Beer Money (A Burr Ashland Mystery) Read Free Page A

Half the time, the librarians asked Tim for help."
    Fred nodded and I asked, "Did he say where the film came from?"
    Fred shook his head. "No, he mailed them to me. The only message was that I should hold onto it."
    We both focused again on the screen where the man was jackhammering, a highly lubricated piston, firing over and over again. His body was shiny beneath the hair as he worked up a sweat.
    A few minutes later, he began to climax, and the girl's entire body was like a trampoline, bouncing with every thrust, her feet flopping, her head pinned against the headboard.
    At last, the man finished and he lay on top of her. Her hands dropped to the side of the bed.
    And then the screen went black.
    Fred wheeled his chair over to the monitor's control panels and he hit a button to make the film pause.
    "There were four reels, each one about ten minutes,” Fred said. “I put them all on one tape, a few seconds gap between them."
    He hit another button and the film began again.
    For the next forty minutes, we watched the screen with growing revulsion. The young girl was placed in every position, on her hands and knees, her small white ass raised into the air, the man standing behind her, looking like a savage, nothing on his face but a dark intensity. Had the camera come equipped for sound, I would have been able to hear the girl’s teeth rattle.
    The last reel was a close-up of the young girl clearly being coached how to give oral pleasure. The man grabbed her hair and pulled her head up and down, as if to demonstrate. Her head moved woodenly, the man's hand clenched her hair. A hands-on manager, apparently.
    At last, his body convulsed and the girl looked directly at the camera.
    It was the final shot of the last scene.
    The film ended and went to black. Fred clicked a couple of buttons and swiveled in his chair to face me. He let out a long breath and took a drink of water. I rubbed my face, some unconscious effort to wipe away the filth of what I'd just seen.
    "The world's oldest porno video?" Fred asked. "That's what Tim was working on?"
    "Nuh-uh,” I said.
    "Then what was he doing with this?" he asked, waving his hand at the now blank monitors.
    "He's a historian Fred, what do you think he was doing with it?"
    Fred pondered that briefly.
    "Back up to that last shot of her," I said. " Sans the dick.”
    Fred punched some buttons until the close-up of the girl filled the screen.
    "Can you rip me a still photo of this frame?" I asked. A plan was forming in my head and the nausea was replaced with hope. There was a chance I could help Gabby. Whether she liked it or not.
    "Sure," Fred said. He punched a couple of buttons while the final shot stayed on screen. In the tape room, I heard a machine start up.
    We went back through the rest of the film. Looked for a good shot of the Hairy Man. We found one, where he briefly looked at the camera. Fred made a still photo of that frame, too.
    Fred went into the tape room and a few minutes later came back with the photos.
    "What are we going to do now?" Fred asked me.
    "You've got a safe in the office, right?" I asked.
    Fred nodded yes.
    "You're going to put the film in there for safe keeping. Don't tell anyone about this, okay?"
    "But the cops-"
    "We’ll give it to them soon enough," I said. "I just want to nose around a little bit first, okay? It’s my job, right?”
    Fred shook his head. “We have to give it to them right away, Burr. We’re just going to create more trouble. Isn't that withholding evidence or something?”
    “Soon enough, Fred. In the end, they’ll thank us for helping.” I stood to go.
    "Where are you going?" Fred asked.
    "I'm going to break into an apartment," I said.

Six
     
    Greenfield was the heart and soul of the Milwaukee cliché: a tavern on every corner and Packer paraphernalia in every window. The area was home to pick-up trucks, rusted out Pontiac Bonnevilles and small houses with cramped yards featuring rusted swingsets.
    After his divorce, Tim