The Missing Daughter Caper

"Here!" she said.

Mrs. Singer handed me the business card of Cora's agency. I looked at the card. It said, Markham Agency, 7698 Sunset Blvd., fourth floor, Hollywood. Steve Markham, President.

"Thank you, Mrs. Singer," I said. "I'll be in touch."

When I got to the front doors, I turned to see Helen walking up the stairs, wiggling her ass like two wildcats wrestling in a gunny sack. All I could do was close my eyes and try to burn that image into my brain. I left the mansion and drove back to my apartment. After speaking with Helen Singer, I figured my chances of finding Cora after three months on the run would be like trying to track a woodpecker through the petrified forest, following a trail of holes it left in the tree's bark. The next morning, I went to see Steve Markham.

The Alliance Building was on the Sunset Strip and was one of the last remnants of old Hollywood during the days of silent movies. The cornerstone read 1913, the year of construction. A rickety open cage elevator stood in the middle of the lobby, surrounded by an open stairwell. How the fire department had not condemned the building as a fire trap is beyond me. Open stairwells are a natural chimney in a structure fire. I stepped into the elevator and slid the wrought iron gate closed. The elevator control was a simple brass lever with a knob in the middle and a pointed end. The lever moved in an arc over a curved scale that said up on one side and down on the other. It took a couple of tries before making the elevator stop in the correct spot on the 4th floor.

The name Markham Agency was hand-painted on a frosted glass door. The brass doorknob was probably the original one. Turning the knob, I entered the outer office. There, I met the receptionist. The simple sign on her desk said Arlene Wonder.

"May I help you?" she asked.

"I'm looking for Steve Markham," I said. "Is he in?"

"Do you have an appointment?" She asked.

"No," I said.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Markham isn't seeing anyone today," she said.

"When will he be available?" I queried.

Just then, the door to Markham's office opened, and a giant of a man barely fit through the door frame. He is over six feet tall and probably 350 pounds, if not more. This guy was huge and could have easily been one of 'The Fearsome-Foursome' of the old L.A. Rams football team of the mid-1970s.

He said, "Arlene, I'm leaving tomorrow morning from here and won't be back until next week. I'll be at the beach house, and don't call me unless it's extremely important."

"Yes, Mr. Markham," she said.

He asked Arlene, "Who is this?"

She replied, "I don't know."

"What does he want?" Markham asked.

I spoke up. "My name is Briggs. I'm investigating the whereabouts of Cora Lee Singer."

"You a cop?" He asked.

"Private Investigator," I said.

Markham said, "I don't talk to gum-shoes," and left the office.

Handing Arlene my card, I asked, "Mrs. Wonder?"

"It's Miss Wonder," she said.

"Do you happen to know where I can find Cora Lee Singer?" I asked.

"All I know is that she went to San Diego last July."

I continued my questioning, "What's the name of the hotel where she was staying?"

"She wasn't staying in a hotel," Arlene said.

"Have you heard from her since San Diego?" I asked.

"Cora called me on the morning of the 5th crying, saying that she was at a house in Ocean Beach and couldn't take it anymore."

"How did Cora get to the house?" I asked.

For the next five minutes, the phone kept ringing, and Arlene was taking messages for Markham.

In between calls, I asked, "Miss Wonder, I need to ask you more questions. Can we discuss this further, say over drinks when you get off?"

"I leave here at five," she said. "Meet me downstairs, and we can go across the street to Ramsay's."

Ramsay's is an upscale businessman's bar. Dark oak paneling, subdued lighting, and red leather booths with autographed pictures of movie stars on the walls. Sitting behind her desk, Arelene was mainly hidden from my view. But, when she appeared walking through the lobby of the Alliance building, I nearly bit my tongue while chewing gum. Stunning was the word that came to mind. She had a white scoop neck shirt, a black pencil skirt with a matching blazer, suntan nylons, and red heels that matched her lipstick. Arlene's hair was tied up in a bun at the office, and she was wearing black horn-rimmed glasses. But now, the glasses were gone, and Arlene's beautiful, long, auburn hair was down about her shoulders. Across the street, in the bar, I asked Arlene to tell me more about Cora and her family.

"How long have you known Cora?" I asked.

"I knew Cora when she was in high school," She said.

"Have you met her stepmom?" Arlene asked.

"Yes," I said sheepishly. I flashed back to the nude woman walking up the stairs of the mansion.

What happened to her biological mother?" I asked.

"Mrs. Singer, Ruth, was killed in a freak accident at the Singer aerospace plant. She was Stanley's secretary, and one day, Ruth was walking through the plant to get some figures for a report when a large aluminum airplane part fell off of the overhead crane and crushed her to death."

"Did the police investigate the accident?" I asked.

"Cora said the cops told her there was no evidence of wrong-doing, and the coroner ruled the death accidental," Arelene offered.

"When did the accident happen?" I asked.

"It happened six years ago. I had graduated with my Bachelor's degree and thought I wanted to become a teacher. I was student teaching at Cora's high school. She was a senior when her mother was killed in that freak accident. She took her mother's death hard. They were as close as a mother and daughter could be. For the rest of the year after the accident, Cora was a ghost. She never talked to anyone except me. I took Cora under my wing because I had lost both my parents while I was in college. They were kidnapped and murdered while visiting my Mother's hometown in Columbia. Cora's grades crashed, and only because Stanley was on the school board did Cora receive her diploma. Finally, she decided to go to a college back east, Brown University, I think it was. Stanley is stupid-money rich and donated enough to fund renovating the arts, media, and entertainment building. I think he donated about 20 million dollars. You can look it up online if you need to know the exact amount."

Arlene continued, "Did you know Helen Singer is a dominatrix, and her husband Stanley is her submissive?"

I said, "I gathered he was submissive from the way she spoke to him rather dismissively."

Arlene told me more about the Singers. "They make porno videos together. She treats him like a baby, and she punishes him when he dirties his diaper. Cora was away at college when her dad married Helen. When she came home during spring break of her freshman year, Cora heard screaming coming from the basement and went to investigate. Cora told me she called 911 to report the screaming in her home. When the cops arrived, they, too, heard the screaming. Cora led them to the cellar, where the cops found her father bound with ropes suspended from the ceiling with a ball gag in his mouth. Cora's stepmother was dressed in a shiny black leather Nazi outfit and was using a bamboo cane across Stanley's bottom. Bright lights and video cameras were recording every angle of the beating Stanley took. Cora said there were purple welts and bleeding streaks on his buttocks."

"The cops ordered Helen at gunpoint to put down the cane and raise her hands. One of the cops took off the ball gag, and Stanley began to tell them that he was okay, that Helen was his mistress, and that he was her slave. Stanley explained that they were making a movie. Cora ran away crying. When the cops left, Stanley and Helen tried to talk with Cora, but she was too traumatized to speak."

"Then what happened?" I asked.

Arlene continued, "Cora said she sat in her room crying and then packed her bags and called an Uber to take her back to LAX. She bought a ticket for the Redeye flight back east."

"How did Cora get involved with Markham?" I asked.

"Cora majored in fine arts and had some professional pictures taken of her artwork for a portfolio while at Brown," Arlene said. "Cora's is an artist. The photographer told Cora that her work was excellent but that she could make a ton of money if she became a model. But Cora declined. She's not been the same since seeing her stepmother and father making that porno."

"When Cora came home after graduating, she used what was left of her expense account to stay at hotels while she looked for a job. She couldn't find work and didn't know anyone who she could room with at the time, so she had to move back home to live with her father and stepmother. Cora had started drinking to hide her shame. I didn't know Cora had come home from college, and when I heard through some of her common high school friends who knew me on social media, they told me they had seen Cora at a liquor store. I called her, and we got together for lunch. I had not seen Cora since she left for college. She was sober when we met for lunch, or at least, I thought she was then. Cora brought her portfolio photographs and showed me the pictures of her drawings. You should see her drawings, Mr. Briggs. They are so life-like."

"Cora sent me digital copies of her portfolio because I had started at the agency only a few months before our lunch date. I talked to Mr. Markham about Cora and showed him the portfolio. When he saw the few pictures of Cora I had on my phone, he wanted to meet Cora to see about representing her. I called Cora's home, spoke with her stepmother, and explained that Mr. Markham was a talent agent and wanted to speak with Cora about a modeling job. Mrs. Singer arranged to meet Mr. Markham the following Monday."

"That still doesn't explain why she's missing," I said.

"As I said, the Singers have an alternative lifestyle," Arlene continued. "On the phone from San Diego, Cora told me that Helen had spiked her wine one night and plied her with cocaine. Helen wanted Cora to become part of the team and make pornos with Helen and her father. Helen came on to Cora, seduced her while she was high, and then took Cora to the cellar to shoot a movie. Helen made Stanley have sex with Cora. But she was too out of it to know what was happening. The next day, Helen acted shocked and verbally attacked Cora. Helen showed Cora the movie they made. When she saw it was Stanley who had sex with her, Helen told Cora she found the video hidden in Stanley's home office desk and would tell the police of the incestuous affair with her father if Cora didn't do what Helen said."

"What happened next?" I asked.

Arlene continued the story. "Cora was forced to perform multiple different sex acts on camera with many different people. It was mostly men, but women were involved, too. Cora was treated like a slave and forced to do unspeakable things on camera. Helen videoed every encounter and has a website where the videos are available as a pay-per-view or for purchase. Cora told me her mother forced Cora to meet with Mr. Markham and that he would promote her as an upcoming model. Cora is beautiful, Mr. Briggs. In any other situation, she would be a supermodel. Cora said her mother took her to San Diego to meet with some of Mr. Markham's associates."

"Do you have any idea why Cora hasn't come back to Los Angeles?" I asked.

"I don't know," Arlene said. "But, I wouldn't put it past Helen Singer that Cora is down there making more porno movies against her will. Mr. Markham has been secretive about Cora. I've tried to find something to help Cora in Mr. Markham's files, but there is nothing there. I only have limited access, but I suspect Mr. Markham has his fingers in the porno business, too."

"Arlene," I said, "is there any way you can get me access to Markham's computer without his knowing about it?"

"I don't know, Mr. Briggs," Arlene said. "Isn't that against the law? Wouldn't I be an accessory after the fact?"

"Arlene, I can keep you out of this mess," I offered. "All I need is about an hour with his computer, and I can hopefully find where Cora is at. Then, I can put a plan together to rescue her and bring her home. Whataya, say, Arlene, will you help me find Cora?"

"Mr. Markham leaves for a week tomorrow morning," Arlene said. "Did you hear him tell me that he was heading to his beach house, which is in San Diego?"

I nodded yes, and Arlene continued. "Do you really think you can find Cora, Mr. Briggs?"

"I'll do my best, Arlene," I promised.

"I have your card at my desk, and I'll call you when he leaves tomorrow. You can come by then. Please, Mr. Briggs, find my friend Cora."

Arlene hugged me when she said goodbye. I called Simmons and let him know what I had found so far. He reminded me to take my time as he was charging Mrs. Singer for every minute of my time. I think the fat man was starting to get excited about finally buying the 28-foot Ericson sailboat he's had his eyes on down at the Marina Del Rey yacht club.

After talking with Simmons, I called one of my contacts at the Los Angeles FBI offices. Charlie Watters and I were Marines together during our stints in the sandbox. Charlie was an Intelligence specialist working on hacking into the ISIS computers I had confiscated during our special operations in the Kandahar region. If anyone could get into Markham's computer, Charlie could.

I briefed Charlie on the Singer case, and he immediately called his supervisor at home. An hour later, Charlie told me that he was able to convince his boss that the FBI should get involved and that there would be a search warrant waiting for him at his office first thing in the morning. Charlie told me that the FBI's human trafficking section was already looking into the Singer case, but they didn't have a connection between Markham and the Singers. My investigation made that connection, and Charlie was going to meet me for breakfast while we waited for Arlene to call.

My phone rang, and Arlene gave the all-clear for me to come to Markham's office. Charlie and I arrived at 9:22 AM. I introduced Charlie to Arlene and explained that with her help, the FBI could help me find out more about Markham's involvement with Cora and the Singers. Charlie showed Arlene the search warrant, and she led Charlie to Markham's desktop computer. He put his USB drive in and started Markham's computer.

Arlene asked if we wanted any coffee, and before I could answer yes, Charlie said, "I'm in. Jesus, Briggs, at least you could have given me a challenge. This thing isn't even password-protected. What an idiot this Markham character must be. Look here, this dumbshit, oh excuse me miss, I'm sorry, Markham doesn't even encrypt any of his files. The reason you couldn't see anything, Miss Wonder, is that this computer is divided into separate halves. You only see the business half. "

"Charlie," I said. "Can you do a quick search to see if there is any indication where Cora Singer might be held in San Diego?"

Charlie smirked, clicked an icon on the desktop, and Markham's journal appeared in an MS Word file. Every detail of Markham's dealing with the Singers and others was displayed on the screen. There was an Excel spreadsheet detailing the money Markham was getting from the Singers for pimping out Cora as a high-class escort. Charlie could not let me print out the documents, but he did get up to use the bathroom while leaving the files open on Markham's computer. I used my phone to take pictures of the screens involving the Singers. The address where Cora was staying was located in Ocean Beach, a suburb of San Diego.

When Charlie returned, I nodded thanks to him. He spent the next 15 minutes taking pictures of Markham's office computer setup, disassembling, and confiscating Markham's computer for use as evidence against Markham, the Singers, and others who were involved. Markham would be going down before the Sun could set on his ass.

While Charlie was doing his magic, I spoke with Arlene, "I guess you realize that after what Charlie found in there, you are unemployed now."

Arlene realized that fact when she saw what Markham was up to. I asked her if there were any other agencies she could solicit for a job, and she told me she was considering accepting an offer with the John Mann agency. Their human resources department was headhunting Arlene, but she stayed with Markham, hoping she could somehow help Cora.

"John Mann is a friend of mine, Arlene," I said. "Would you like for me to give him a call? I helped out of a jam once, and he's told me often that if I ever needed anything, I should call him."

Arlene rushed toward me and damn near tackled me to the floor, hugging and kissing my face. She had her arms wrapped around my body so tight I was having difficulty standing. I gently pushed Arlene toward her desk and used my cell phone to call John Mann.

"John Mann, please," I said.

"I'm sorry, Mr.Mann doesn't accept unsolicited phone calls," the receptionist said.

Before she could hang up, I said, "This is Briggs."

The receptionist apologized and put me through to John's office.

"BRIGGS!" John said. "You old reprobate, how in the hell are you?"

"I need your help, John," I said into the phone.

"What can I do for you, my brother from another mother?" John said.

I began, "Well, there's a young woman I know who is losing her job. She works for a shithead named Steve Markham."

"Oh, so the feds finally caught up with him, eh?" John said.

"Not yet, but soon," I said. "Anyway, this young lady, she's his future ex-receptionist, and she'll be needing a job. I was thinking that since you are in the same line of work as Markham, you might have a spot for her in your organization."

"Do you mean Arlene Wonder?" John asked.

"Yeah," I said. "You know, Arlene?"

"Not personally, no," John said. "I know of her, and I've been trying to poach her from Markham for quite a while now. Is she available? When can I speak with her?"

"She's here with me now," I said as I handed her the phone. "It's John Mann. He wants to speak with you."

Arlene gasped, and her body shook as she took the phone from my hand. John and Arlene chatted for 15 minutes while I sat and waited. All I heard was a few yes sirs and no sirs, and finally, a thank sir. I'll see you Monday morning. Arlene ended the call and kissed me on the lips.

"Oh, Mr. Briggs," Arlene said. "I can't thank you enough."

"What did he say," I asked.

Arlene went on to tell about her new job responsibilities and the tremendous pay raise she was going to get from John. She gushed about how happy she is about being out from under Markham but that she is going to work for the number one talent agent in the country. Arlene will be Mr. Mann's executive assistant. Arlene told me that Susan, his current assistant, is pregnant and resigning in two weeks to be a stay-at-home mother to her first child.

I told her of my work relationship with John and that she had nothing to fear working for him. John is gay, so she won't have to fend him off. The other guys in the office, I wasn't so sure about their intentions toward Arlene. But knowing John, if anyone tries anything untoward to Arlene, they'll be on the street jobless before you can say Jack Armstrong, the all-American boy.

Chapter 3: The Feds

While I was chatting with Arlene about her new job, the door to the Markham Agency opened, and three men in suits announced their presence as FBI agents. They had a search warrant and asked for Steve Markham. Charlie was walking out of Markham's office carrying his computer tower, keyboard, mouse, and cables.

"Watters, what are you doing here?" the Special Agent in Charge (SAIC) said.

"Same thing you are, Agent Helms," Charlie said. "I'm collecting evidence on Markham's trafficking ring."