I slid into a parking space and scurried to the door. The hours listed on the sign in the window indicated the place was open until six, which at least alleviated the time constraint. I went in and waited for the nearest clerk to finish his business with another customer, after which he turned his attention to me.
“What can I do for you?”
He was in his midtwenties, tall and thin, with his hair in a ponytail, a scanty goatee, and his left earlobe punctured with a nut and bolt. His complexion was spotty and his bow tie and red suspenders seemed incongruous. What homely truth was he hoping to convey about himself?
I held up the tape. “I’m wondering if you can tell me how to duplicate a video cassette.”
“That one?”
“Not this. I’m asking in general.”
“When do you need it?”
“The time frame isn’t relevant. The question is hypothetical.”
“Explain.”
“The contents are personal and I wouldn’t feel comfortable turning the tape over to a photo shop for reproduction.”
“Why not?”
“Uh, let’s say, for instance, I recorded nude footage of myself.”
“To what end?”
“Maybe I’m an exhibitionist, hoping to titillate my boyfriend.”
“You’d be better off showing him the real thing. That’s what I’d go for in his shoes,” he said.
“The problem is theoretical.”
“So you say.”
“Actually, the tape shows actions of a questionable sort. The contents drift toward the criminal.”
“Why would a nice girl like you get into something like that?”
I ignored the question, which I thought was impertinent. “If a camera store couldn’t or wouldn’t reproduce the tape, how could I get it done?”
He leaned on the counter, resting his chin on his fist. “I guess you could project the contents on a screen and make a tape of the tape.”
I thought about it. “Nice. I like that. You’re saying I could make as many tapes as I had blank cassettes.”
“True.”
He held up an index finger. “Or. Somebody like me might be willing to do the job for you if the payoff was sweet enough.”
“Don’t think so,” I said. “You might feel obliged to contact law enforcement.”
“Is this a snuff film? Because I’m willing to contact law enforcement right now, if that’s the case.”
“No, it’s not a snuff tape! What kind of person do you think I am?”
“Someone in possession of a smutty homemade video ‘drifting toward the criminal,’ to quote you.”
I had to exercise patience, the Zen of not gnawing his ear off for being such an ass. “Let’s try this. Suppose I want to rent a video camera, can I get one here?”
“Nope. Don’t think so. Ordinarily, yes, but given what you’ve said, I’d be fired.”
I returned the tape to my bag, saying, “Thanks, anyway.”
“Here to serve,” he said.
So much for that idea. At least I had a notion now of how the extortionist managed to duplicate the tape, which I intended to return to Lauren as soon as possible. The damn thing felt like a time bomb. Tick tick tick. I wondered how many copies might be out there and whether anyone else had been slapped with financial demands. I drove home trying to map out an overall strategy, with no particular luck. At that point, I was long on questions and short on replies.
I found an amazing parking spot one door down from my studio apartment, which cheered me no end. I let myself in through the squeaking gate, feeling a rare optimism. I stopped in my tracks. The sidewalk just inside the gate was piled high with junk: a backpack, a sleeping bag, a waterproof ground pad, a duffel, a pup tent, and a portable wheelchair, plus two brown bags stuffed with clothing that smelled sooty even from where I stood. Mystified, I rounded the corner of the building and saw Pearl White on my doorstep, pounding on my door. She was leaning on a pair of crutches that looked like they might buckle under her prodigious weight.
“Pearl?”
“Hey, Kinsey. Long time no see.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Looking for Henry. I’ve been banging and banging and he’s not answering.”
I’d met Pearl many months before when I was investigating the death of a homeless fellow found on the beach. She was still big; probably size 22 blue jeans and an XXXL sweatshirt that said UCST, like she was a recent college graduate. Not that I have anything against big, but a shower would have helped. The pile of stuff on the sidewalk was doubtless hers, but what was she doing here? She was probably in her forties, though life had treated her so badly, she might be younger. Her wide face was pink, with cheeks tinted with broken capillaries. Her hair was chopped short. Her lower teeth were dark and every other one seemed to be missing.
I asked her the obvious. “What do you want with Henry?”
“Isn’t this where he lives?”
I pointed to his back door. “That’s his place. This is mine.”
“Oh yeah. I remember now. You rent this studio from him. Nice. I don’t suppose you’re in the market for a roomie? Because I’m looking for a place to stay.”
I indicated the crutches, saying, “What happened?”
“I got hit by a car. In the crosswalk and everything. Maybe crossing against the light, but that’s not a felony in this state. Broke my hip. I’m gonna sue the bastard if I can find an attorney who’ll take my case pro boner. You know someone good?”
“I don’t,” I said. “You were in rehab?”
“I was, but I’m done with that now. Problem is the doctors wouldn’t let me out unless I had a place to go. I remembered Henry because he was so nice when Terrence and Felix died. I had the woman at rehab call and she had a good long chat with him. He said I was welcome here for as long as I wanted.”
“Seriously. Henry said that?”
“You don’t believe me, ask him,” she said.
“What about Harbor House? Why not stay there?”
“A homeless shelter’s not equipped. The director said no right off the bat, which was damn rude of him. I’m practically a full-time resident and you’d think he’d have took me in. I threatened to punch his lights out, but he wouldn’t relent.”
Just then Henry came around the corner in his usual shorts, T-shirt, and flip-flops. He was toting Pearl’s backpack in one hand and the two brown paper bags in the other. He seemed to take her presence for granted, which I considered an indication that what she’d told me was correct. He said, “Oh! You’re here. I wasn’t expecting you until after supper.”
“I figured the earlier the better. Give me time to get settled,” she said. “I’m hypoglycemic, so I can’t go too long between meals or I’ll get all shaky and sweaty.”
Henry said, “Don’t worry about it. I have supper all set up. Kinsey, why don’t you grab that wheelchair out front while I let her in?”