Bud looks at me for a moment before continuing. "Now, that being said, we suspected the photographs were staged and we can prove it by little pieces of evidence here and there. First, we know that someone else took these photographs. The only way one of two people in the photograph could have operated the camera is via remote and a tripod. My expert blew up some of the photographs concentrating on the objects on the night stand. The first three pictures were taken from almost the same position and from the clock; we know they were all taken at 1:30 AM. Of interest, your body position Jake is identical in all three photographs. Now in the fourth picture it gets a tad bit more interesting. The time changed to 1:31 AM, and this picture is the only one that shows any movement on your part. In the remaining four pictures, your body position is identical to the fourth one. Unless you count my wife, it's very suspicious that someone would hardly ever move while having sex. There's also one other interesting thing about the fourth picture. The expert I had look at the pictures figures the camera shifted a good foot to the left."
"How did you figure that out?" Bill asks.
"It's the calendar and the clock on the night stand," Bud answers. He pulls out two more pictures from a folder, looks at them for a moment, and then puts them on the table for Bill and me to see. Pointing to the first new picture Bud continues, "This is a blowup of the nightstand from the third picture. From the perspective of the camera, notice the calendar is in front and to the right of the clock. The very left edge of the calendar overlaps the right edge of the clock. Now look at the same view from the fourth picture."
We take a few moments and see what Bud is pointing at right away. In the blowup of the fourth picture, you can actually see a small gap between the calendar and the clock. "I see it," I say. "That gap could only have happen if the clock, calendar or camera moved. And it's a safe bet the clock or calendar didn't move."
"Right," Bud says. "Like I said, my expert was even able to guess that the camera moved about a foot left. I gave him your height and he made some guesses as to the distance between your waist and the top of your head. Using that as a base, he figured the camera was about 9 feet away. Once he knew that, he could just use geometry and figure out how far the camera moved.
"That's good stuff Bud," Bill chimes in. "Now we've proven there was at least one other person in the room."
"Oh, we're just scratching the surface Bill. I had a very good trip down in Houston!" Bud laughs.
"So what else?" I ask anxiously.
Bud laughs again. "Keep your pants on boy! You got a hot date tonight or ..." Bud suddenly stops in mid-sentence. "I'm sorry Jake. That sorta slipped out before I even thought about what I was saying."
I shake my head and motion I was fine and that he should continue.
A bit red in the cheek Bud says, "I spent almost all my time down in Houston just in the hotel you stayed in Jake. I asked around and found out the name of the bellboy who had been there the longest. If you want to know what's going on in a hotel, talk to the bellboys or the cleaning staff. I found one young guy that had been there for several years and all it took was a picture of Grant to make him sing his fool head off."
"First thing I showed him was one of those photographs, and asked him about the calendar. He said they didn't use anything like that in the rooms. The only way a calendar like that could have been put there was if the customer brought it. Then this bellboy starts turning detective on me going all over the photograph. He chirps up that the water bottle wasn't provided by the hotel. I asked him how he knew that. He said the hotel had an exclusive contract with Ice Mountain brand and that the water was Aquafina. So Jake, that's a question for you. Did you bring any water into the room?"
"No ... I don't think so," I puzzle, trying to remember back. "I certainly didn't go out of the hotel and buy any water and bring it back. You know I have a low tolerance for alcohol and often just drink water. While I was there I just drank what was downstairs in the lobby or in the mini-bar in my room."
"You told me Monday that you and a couple of other guys were celebrating Saturday night. What did you drink then?"
"I had an ice tea with dinner. Afterwards I had one beer and then water after that. Wait ... I just remember something. We each bought a couple of rounds. Of course I was a cheap date because I was only drinking water by that time. I remember Schmidt buying the last round. He said he had to use the restroom so he brought the drinks back himself. I didn't even need any more water but he brought me a bottle anyway. And I did drink it. In fact I now remember taking that bottle about half full back to my room. I suddenly started getting very tired and so hung it up and retired to my room. I really can't remember much more than that until the next morning."
I look up at Bud. "What are you smiling about?" I ask him.
"Well, what you just told me jives with what else I found out."
"You have more?" Bill asks.
"Oh yeah! Something big! I told you I made good buddies with that bellboy. Well, I got him to do something for me. This time it took a Franklin, but it was worth it."
"Well ... what was it!" I ask.
"One of the first things I noticed when I walked into the hotel was the security cameras. I asked the bell boy if they only had that in the lobby or did they have them everywhere. He said they only had them on the front desk and the main hallways of each floor near the elevators. I asked if he could find out what room you were staying in and if the tape for that floor was still available for the evening of January 15th. That's when I had to pony up the Franklin. But like I said, it was worth it."
Bud reached into his bad and pulls out a VHS tape. My eyes get big as I watch him get up and walk over to the TV on the side of his room.
"Now I've already viewed this several times and even had some extra work done. So it's already queued up to about the right spot."
Bud presses place on his recorder and an image flickers on the screen. It's a view down a hallway. In the foreground on the far left are two elevator doors. On the far right is a convenience stand and one of those old floor cigarette butt ashtrays that's been converted into a trash can. In the distance is a long hallway with what seems to be an endless parade of hotel room doors in view. The upper right hand corner displayed the date and time, and it was currently set to January 15th at 1:23 AM. In the lower right hand corner it said "#18".
Only a few seconds after the image appears we see the far left elevator in the bottom left hand corner of the screen open. We can't see into the elevator but shortly two figures emerge and begin walking down the hallway away from us. Both are wearing overcoats and the larger of the two is also wearing a hat. By his size and the way he walks he appears to be male. The other is very recognizable by the mid-back level frizzy hair style she has. It's the woman in my photographs.
We watch them walk down the hall. Bud narrates as we watch and said that he went and counted the number of doors between the elevator and my room at the hotel. He said they stop directly in front of my room. As the three of us watch, we see the man in the overcoat produce a key card, open my door and disappear into my room."
"Holy shit!" I exclaim. That proves someone entered my room just before the pictures were taken. You did it Bud!"
"Not so fast," Bill says. "I agree this seems to be the icing on the cake, but the two doubting Thomasina's I heard this morning won't see it the same way."
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"It's pretty obvious it's the woman in the photographs. But the man in the photographs could have been you. He was about your height. They'll argue this is proof you did cheat. After all, no one but you should have had your key card."
"Oh shit, you're right!"
"Not so fast Kimosabie," laughs Bud. "I haven't shown you everything yet! First, this isn't the only tape I got. I managed to get all the tapes for Jake's floor for that evening. I clearly have Jake on tape entering his room a good hour and a half earlier, and he doesn't come out until the next morning. Second, I mentioned I called in a few favors. I called in a few down in Houston. As soon as I saw this footage I rushed off to another video expert I know down there and had him take a crack at it."
"Initially when my expert reviewed the footage several times and said it was doubtful we would get anything on the two individuals as they seem to be aware of the camera and had their faces turned as soon as they neared the camera's visual field."
"But ... then he started concentrating on that old chrome pedestal ashtray. He advanced the tape to the point where the elevator doors just start to open. Then he started blowing up and enhancing the section of the frame near the ashtry. This is what he got on his first blowup."
Bud reached down into his magic bag of tricks and pulled out another folder. This time he pulled out a single photograph. It was a blowup of the ashtray. Right on the corner for the chrome ashtray we could see the elevator doors open and two people standing there.
"Damn," I say. "We can almost make them out."
"Hold your horses," Bud says. "This is a blowup of the blowup."
Bud pulls out another photograph and lays it on his desk. Bill and I both look at it and then at each other.
"Is that Schmidt?" Bill asks?
I look at the blowup again. Although grainy and somewhat distorted in the curvature of the chrome ashtray, we could clearly see the two elevator doors as two parentheses. And framed in the middle of those two curved elevator doors were two faces. One belongs to the woman in my photographs. The other belongs to the VP of sales at my firm, none other than Thomas K Schmidt.
I whistle.
"I'm not done yet!" Bud says with glee.
I had the bell boy access the security logs for your floor for that evening. It seems it shows your room being entered by someone in maintenance at 1:23 AM that morning. I tracked that guy down and he wouldn't admit to anything except he lost his card sometime that night. He didn't find out about it until 4:00 AM or so. I'll bet you a dollar to a doughnut he took a bribe. After all, that's how I was getting all of my information!"
Bud holds up his hand when I try to speak.
"One more thing Jake and then I'm done. The bellboy even recognized the woman in your photographs. She's a high class hooker. He gave her name and I even tracked her down. She wouldn't answer a lot of questions but did say she was hired as part of a practical joke. She simply acted like she was fucking you but never did. She laughed and said they never even bothered to take your pants off. Of course, she refused to let me tape record her or sign a document."
Bud smiled and threw an audio cassette tape on the desk.
"But as luck would have it. My recorder was accidentally turned on. So I screwed up and taped it anyway. There's no way you could enter it as evidence for court, but it may carry a little weight with a certain prosecutor."
Bud throws one last photo on the desk and we look down at my "partner" in bed.
"There she is Jake. There's your mystery fuck."
I sit back and laugh, much more in relief than for any other reason. A deep laugh ... one that I've needed for days.
I look at my watch and see that it's barely 10:30 pm. I quickly give Vicky Gambino a call. She doesn't answer but I leave a message indicating that Bill and I would like to meet up with her and Susie tomorrow. We have one last consideration for Susie and if that doesn't convince her that I was innocent then I wouldn't fight her suit for divorce.
Both Bill and Bud are quiet while I make my call. Bill puts a hand on my shoulder. I grin and the two of us begin talking strategy for the next day. Bud gets up and makes a fresh pot of coffee, and for the next hour we kick around several ideas.
Just as we are about to break up for the evening, my cell phone rings and it is Gambino. Bud's phone rings at the same time so I get up and step outside. Vicky says she got my message and had talked with Susie. They would meet us at Susie's office at 8:30 AM tomorrow.
After hanging up I walk back into the conference room and tell Bill, "The game is on."
Bill and I quietly talk a bit more strategy for the next day while Bud finishes up his phone call with a few grunts. He finally hangs up and sits quietly, a bit too quietly.
"Something wrong Bud?" I ask.
"Not sure yet," he answers gruffly. "I still got a few irons in the fire. I'll let you know when it's the right time."
Bill and I just give each other a puzzled glance. Bud seems a bit sour for someone that just broke this little situation wide open. It almost seems like he's stonewalling a bit, but maybe it has to do with one of the other agency's cases. I can't think of too much that could go wrong with ours that might throw a damper on what was uncovered today.
With Bud's disposition in the crapper Bill and I silently come to the same agreement that it was time to break up our little group. With a few handshakes all around Bill and I head outside, have a few last words and then split up.
I drive back to my hotel and break the seal on the mini-bar. Taking a cold one outside on to the balcony, I take a moment for a very heavy sigh and begin to reflect back on the last few days. Life has been nothing but a rollercoaster and a whirlwind since Friday. For maybe the first time I start to give serious thought to what transpired Friday night. My mind has been in turmoil. I was in such a rage that evening, but I can also see how Schmidt set everything up. In hindsight it's easy to see how Susie jumped to the conclusion she did but couldn't she have talked to me about it instead of humiliating me and literally putting me into the hospital? Her reaction was swift and deadly, but she's always been that way, I knew that before we got married.
I still have a lot of anger against her for not even giving me that chance to talk about it. And then there's the whole issue of fucking that asshole right in front of me, even though I know how ruthless she can be, the level of deceit to lure me into that chair and then the betrayal ... will we be able to work our way through this?
I know in my heart I love her. That's not a question. Strangely it's not even a question of trust. This was a one-off thing she did as revenge. She was reacting to her own rage and that once she discovers the truth she'll be mortified.
I wander back inside the hotel room for a moment to grab a rare second beer before retreating back to the balcony. Settling heavily into the chair I sigh, knowing that I want somehow to fix all of this, but not sure of how to pick up all the pieces.
I stare out at the lights of Dallas as I nurse my beer. I feel like tying one on and getting drunk but know I need all my wits about me for the meeting with Susie tomorrow. Halfway through my beer my cell phone rings. I check it quickly to see that it's Bud.
Bud is nothing but abrupt and tells me to expect a package on the front desk of my hotel no later than 7 AM. He says there will be a few things in the package marked for Benner's eyes only. He makes me promise to deliver it only to Benner and not to look into any of the folders that were marked. I reluctantly give him the promise I wouldn't but not after arguing with him for several minutes. He says little as is his nature while I argue with him. His only response is that there is a time and place for everything. Right now it's not the right time. I grunt in response and Bud forces me to promise not to look into the folders one last time.
After hanging up with Bud, I think back to when he was in his office and try to remember anything I heard that would give me a clue as to why he seems so gruff. I shake my head realizing that Bud said very little even then. A bit of foreboding descends over me while I call Bill to tell him about the package. Bill is just as mystified as I am and suggests we meet at the same little coffee café no later than 7:45 so that he would have some chance to see what Bud was putting into the package.
Wednesday 8:30 AM
To say I slept restlessly last night would be an incredible understatement. The only thing more difficult than last night's sleep was resisting a peek inside the package waiting for me at the hotel's front desk. After seeing all of the contents marked with Bill's name, I was somehow able to resist examining the contents. The only reason I was able to hold off was because I gave my word, to an old friend such as Bud, no less.
Bill has just joined me at the booth I grabbed in the corner. I first slide across the table the coffee I bought him, followed by Bud's package. He lifts the lid on the box and frowns a moment, extracts the two folders inside and then stands up and moves away a few paces. He looks through both folders as I extract the voice recorder from the pocket of my jacket. It is also marked for Bill but I sorta broke my promise to Bud. I did promise to not look into any folders. I didn't say a damn thing about not listening to any audio tape.
I stare down at the recorder, trying desperately to keep the anger bottled up that threatens to boil over. Rage at Susie if not pure malevolence at that asshole Schmidt. It is only the despair in my heart that helps me keep the rage contained..
Bill returns to our table and asks if I'm ready to head up to Susie's office. I ask him to wait a minute and then explain the tape, and what I heard on it. He puts a comforting hand on my shoulder and then we discuss what we might do with the information. Our mood is decidedly different that it was last night. Grimly we pick up our material and begin walking toward my wife's office.
A look of expectation is on both of their faces as we enter. Silently I watch as the look of expectation changes to puzzlement for both of them. I realize they expected us to come out blasting. Instead we have entered as pallbearers ready to bury the dead.
Bill reaches into his portfolio and extracts the affidavit secured yesterday by Janine. He hands both Susie and Vicky a copy.
"What is this?" Susie asks.
"I suggest you read it," Bill says. "It speaks for itself."
"Where's the original?" Susie asks.
"We have it, we plan on turning it back over before we leave today," Bill says.
Both of them quickly scan the document and look at each other. "Did you see Heidi before she signed this?" Susie asks me.
"Yes he did," Bill answers for me as I remain silent. I can feel my anger just burning below the surface. I don't trust myself to speak.
"Then I agree with your counselor. This document does speak for itself." Susie says. "It says that Heidi, when confronted by Jake, will sign anything."
"What!" I yell.
Bill's hand immediately and firmly grips my forearm squelching the next words that were about to come out of my mouth.
"Of course she signed this Jake. She's been your secretary for years. She's been your lover for who knows how long. You're intimidating and basically you coerced her into signing this new affidavit."
"Have you completely lost track of all your senses?" I respond incredulously. "You're completely ignoring everything you know about both Heidi and me for the past eight years!"
"You cheated on me. I don't have a clue as to who you are." Susie replies.
"After last Friday night, I could say the exactly same thing." I hiss, forgetting my promise to let Bill do the speaking. His reminder is to even more tightly squeeze my forearm.
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