“Don’t be silly,” she said.

“Just asking,” Jesse said.

Jenn leaned very close to the mirror as she worked on her face.

“When I get through,” she said, “I have something really interesting to show you. You know what B roll is?”

“Sure, second unit. No stars or anything, just the director and a camera guy getting background stuff.”

“Second unit,” Jenn said. “I forget you worked all those years in L.A.”

“Everybody in L.A. knows second unit,” Jesse said. “Hell I can even say mise-en-scène.”

“But can you define it?” Jenn said.

“Nope. I left L.A. before I learned that part.”

Jenn put her lip gloss on and leaned back a little and looked at herself in the mirror. Then she leaned very close and looked. Then back for one more medium-range look and turned toward him.

“Check this out,” Jenn said.

She put a cassette in the built-in VCR and pressed play. It was raw film, taken on board several yachts in Paradise Harbor. Jesse watched silently. There was no dialogue.

“I was looking at some of the B roll,” Jenn said. “Marty’s 1 8 7

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great. She wants my input on everything. And I saw something that I thought would interest you.”

“You want to say what?”

“You’ll see,” Jenn said.

Jesse watched silently. The scenes jerked from one to another without transition.

“Yo!” Jesse said.

Jenn stopped the tape and rewound it, and played it again.

“Yo,” Jesse said.

“See him?” Jenn said.

“From the Florence Horvath sex tape,” Jesse said.

“Part of the fuck sandwich,” Jenn said. “The one on top, I think.”

“And you recognized him,” Jesse said.

“I did.”

“You must have been paying closer attention to that tape than I thought,” Jesse said.

“I’m naturally observant,” Jenn said. “You recognized him, too.”

“I’m supposed to,” Jesse said. “Was this a test?”

Jenn smiled. “I guess it was. I guess I would have kind of liked it if you’d missed him and I had to point him out.”

“Glad I passed,” Jesse said.

“Well,” Jenn said after a pause, “I guess I am, too.”

“Sign of love,” Jesse said.

“Yes.”

“You know where the tape was made?” Jesse said.

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S E A C H A N G E

“Everything’s labeled,” Jenn said. “So when we get in the editing room, we have some idea of what we’re doing.”

“Clever,” Jesse said. “And the location is?”

“Sea Cloud,” Jenn said. “Yesterday. Contact Thomas Ralston.”

“Yesterday,” Jesse said.

Jenn nodded.

“We always date everything,” Jenn said.

“The sonovabitch is still here,” Jesse said.

Jenn shrugged.

“I need a copy of that tape,” Jesse said.

“Take it,” Jenn said. “I had them dupe it for you.”

“Christ,” Jesse said. “Maybe you should be chief of police.”

“What,” Jenn said. “And give up show business?”

1 8 9

40

H is name was Eric Jurgen. Suitcase Simpson and Arthur Angstrom went out to the Sea Cloud and got him.

“Thanks for coming in, Mr. Jurgen,” Jesse said.

“I try to obey the police,” Jurgen answered.

He spoke with a faint accent.

“Are you foreign born, Mr. Jurgen?” Jesse said.

“I am Austrian,” Jurgen said. “Is there a problem?”

“You are a crewman on the Sea Cloud, ” Jesse said.

“Yes sir.”

“Do you know Florence Horvath?”

S E A C H A N G E

Jurgen smiled. “Florence,” he said. “Yes. I am very sorry to hear that she died.”

“How did you know her?”

“She was with Mr. Darnell when I worked on the Lady Jane. ”

“With Mr. Darnell?”

“You know, like his girlfriend.”

“Didn’t Mr. Darnell have several girlfriends?” Jesse said.

Again Jurgen smiled.

“Yes sir,” Jurgen said. “Many. But Florence was . . . she was like the head girlfriend.”

“I have a copy of a videotape,” Jesse said, “which shows you and another man having simultaneous sex with Florence Horvath.”

“Oh,” Jurgen said. “Oh my. You have that tape.”

“I do,” Jesse said.

“Have I broken the law?” Jurgen said.

“No,” Jesse said. “I’d just like you to tell me a little about the tape, if you would.”

“I . . . I do not know what to tell you,” Jurgen said. “I have done that never before.”

“Had sex for the camera?”

“No, that either,” Jurgen said. “But I have never shared a woman. It is very embarrassing.”

“Who’s the other guy?”

“My brother.”

“His name is Jurgen, too?”

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“Yes. Konrad.”

“How’d the tape come about?”

“Florence wanted to make it.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. She was living on the boat. We were crew.

Everyone else was ashore.”

“Darnell there?”

“God, no. I could not do that in front of another man.”

“Except your brother.”

“That is different,” Jurgen said.

“Where were you moored?”

“Fort Lauderdale.”

“Who took the pictures,” Jesse said.

“Her sisters.”

“Florence Horvath’s sisters,” Jesse said.

“Yes.”

“Corliss and Claudia Plum.”

“I think so, I don’t really remember the names very well but that sounds as if it is correct.”

“And this was Florence’s idea.”

“The whole thing,” Jurgen said.

“She approached my brother and myself,” Jurgen said.

“We were embarrassed. But we are brothers. I could not do such a thing with a stranger.”

“How about the Plum sisters?”

“Oh, yes. We didn’t know them. But they were not, ah, actively involved, if you see what I mean. And besides, they were girls. I wouldn’t want another man watching.”

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S E A C H A N G E

They were quiet. Jurgen sat obediently, waiting for another question.

“Anyone enjoy this pig pile?” Jesse said.

“Well, it was . . . different,” Jurgen said. “If a man crews on this yacht circuit, he gets a lot of sex. It’s pretty routine after a while. This was . . .”

He rolled his right hand as he tried to think of the right word.

“It was unusual,” he said.

“How about Florence?”

“I guess she liked it,” Jurgen said. “She was quite interested in the filming, though.”

“And you did this because she asked you.”

“Yes. I liked Florence. Kon, my brother, and I both liked her.”

“She pay you?”

“No sir, absolutely not, sir. She did not pay us anything.”

“No offense,” Jesse said. “You have any idea how she died?”

“No sir.”

“Where’s your brother?”

“In the Caribbean, sir. On Mr. Damon’s boat.”

“Where’s Mr. Damon from?”

“Boat’s out of Miami, sir. I don’t know if Mr. Damon lives there.”

“First name?”

“Mr. Damon? I don’t know, sir.”

“And where do you live when you’re not on a boat?”

“Miami, sir. Kon and I have a condo.”

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Jesse pushed a pad of paper toward Jurgen.

“Write down the address,” Jesse said.

Jurgen did. Jesse took the pad back and looked at it.

“Gimme your driver’s license,” Jesse said.

Jurgen produced it and Jesse compared addresses. They were the same. Jesse gave the license back and grinned at Jurgen.

“Suspicious by nature,” Jesse said.

“That is fine, sir. I know you have a job to do.”

Jesse nodded.

“I’d like it if you didn’t talk about this conversation.”

“They will ask me, sir.”

“Tell them it was routine. I simply asked you if you’d observed anything unusual on board.”

“My God, sir . . .”

Jesse put up his hand.

“Just say you told me no.”

Jurgen smiled.