Special Victims Unit/Chapter 6
Chapter 6: Funny how I missed that
Carola was, once more, alone in her office. As always when working on a case, she regularly sent Stephen and Indra away to be alone. They were in the spare office, discussing the case.
Carola needed her assistants, but she also needed her alone time. Stephen and Indra respected that, as did her superiors. With her success rate, there was very little she could ask for and not get immediately.
She sighed, as she kept pouring over the victims and the clues. Was she really going to fail this case? This so very personal case?
Two days had passed since Bernd Staufenbacher had been arrested as he returned home, stupid drunk after spending two days and nights non-stop in a local bar. Three days since the last victim. Was Bernd the rapist? Or Jolene Huffing, who also was still in custody?
Carola sighed again. After extensive interviews with both, she was not convinced they had anything to do with the case. And yet, there had been no new cases since. But it still didn't add up.
A buzzing sound, and the holo display lit up, showing the switchroom logo.
“Miss Anser? Incoming call from mister Clemens Anser. Will you take it?”
Carola nodded, and Clemens' face appeared in the holo display.
“Good morning, love! Are you doing okay? And the children?”
“Yes, they are fine. Everyone in the neighborhood helps. They're doing great.”
“They? Only they? How about you?”
“I miss you, sweetheart. I miss you very much.”
“You do still have enough sex friends, right?”
“Yes. No shortage of sex. That's not it. It's you I miss.”
Carola sighed.
“I understand. I'm sorry. But you know …”
“Yes, I know. Work comes first. You made that clear when we met.”
“You know what, love? Once this case is closed, I'll take some time off. Two whole weeks, all to spend with you.”
“Sounds great. But I doubt it will happen.”
“Yes, it will. I'll leave my pager at the precinct. After this case, they can't refuse me to give me some time totally off.”
“It would be nice, Carola, thanks. Do you think …”
Their conversation was interrupted by an urgent knock on the door.
“Carola?” she heard Stephen's voice, “we need you now. A new case was just reported.”
“Damn! Okay, one sec, Stephen! Clemens, you heard it, right? I need to go!”
“Yes, go my love. Go catch the baddies. I love you!”
Carola barely heard the last words, as she already stormed out of her office.
“I'm almost glad we have another victim,” Carola admitted to her assistants, as they got in the car.
“Glad?”
“Yeah, neither Jolene Huffing nor Bernd Staufenbacher were it. I knew they weren't. Now we can officially scratch them off the list.”
“Or this is an unrelated case?”
“Trust me. My spider senses are tingling. This is the same limpdick again.”
“But then we're back at zero suspects again.”
Carola sighed.
“Yes. Yes, we're back at square one. That's true.”
The three jumped out of the police car as it stopped, and found themselves in front of a shabby looking motel. A police officer awaited them. She opened her mouth, but Carola didn't wait for her to say anything.
“Walk us there. Any ID on the victim already?”
“Yes, miss Anser,” the officer replied, after a short silence to change from whatever she had planned to say, “but I am not sure if you …”
“You[/i] are not sure? Well, [i]I sure am! Give me the name, dammit! And start walking already!”
“It's … it's Iris White, miss Anser. The Fucks News reporter.”
The medical examiner left the room as Carola and her team entered. Carola was not surprised to be handed an evidence bag with a crumpled note.
“You are missing my hints, CA”.
The hotel room was as scarcely decorated as expected. Carola barely took the time to look at the broken window and the glass on the floor. She knew what she would find. Instead, she focused Iris White. Her swollen eyes and washed out eyeliner running across her cheeks showed she had been crying, but she looked contained now.
“So, we meet again, miss Anser. Quite unexpected.”
Her tone betrayed her attempt at humor to be forced.
“Tell me, miss White. Were you pursuing the rapist case?”
“What? Me? Oh, no. Not at all. I'm working on …”
“Irrelevant. All that matters is that you didn't find him, he found you. You do realize this is not a coincidence, right?”
Iris nodded. Then looked down, between her legs, as she mumbled.
“So that's where he leaves his notes. I knew he left notes. But not where. Funny how I missed that.”
Carola ignored Iris' words.
“Okay, tell me the whole story. All you can remember.”
“I'm here because I'm doing undercover research for … well, irrelevant indeed. I often pick random motels when doing undercover work. I think I went to bed at eleven, with my alarm set for eight. But the alarm didn't wake me. I woke up at … I think after noon, with a terrible headache. I saw the broken window and noticed I felt sore as if I had been fucking all night. That's when I realized I should make a call and not do anything.”
“Smart choice, thanks.”
“The doctor says I was probably raped between six and nine. The sedative then kept me down for a few more hours.”
“Nobody noticed you were missing?”
“I had no appointments. The network knows I often go off grid for a few days during research. They don't even know yet, guess I should call them.”
“Please, can you keep it off the broadcast?”
“You know I can't, right?”
Carola sighed and cursed under her breath.
“Okay, get her out. We need to search the room.”
“Search the room?” Stephen scoffed, once they were alone, as he exaggeratedly looked around.
“Idiot! There's nothing here, we know that. But there has to be something. Check the bathroom.”
Indra opened the bathroom door.
“He's getting sloppy. He's not even hiding it. Here, on the floor.”
They all saw it. A messy stack of what appeared to be standard restroom signs as found in public buildings appeared to be thrown on the floor in a hurry.
“It may look like he had to rush, I'm still confident there won't be prints. We will check, of course. Get forensics in. Nothing left for us here. Let's return to the precinct.”
“You are missing my hints,” Carola repeated, as they were once more back in her office, looking at the evidence wall.
“You should take a break … with tickets to Orlando.”
“Don't get tied up in my clues … handcuffs.”
“My notes are not the clues … written in old-fashioned ink, on parchment.”
“You should not skip breakfast … with a fully set breakfast table.”
“And now … you are missing my hints, with restroom signs, aptly in the bathroom.”
A long silence. Finally, Stephen spoke.
“Clearly, despite saying the notes are not the clues, they are.”
“No, they aren't. They're directed to me. They point to the clues, but they are not the clues. The clues are obvious even without the notes. But he left them anyway, just to insult me.”
“Except the last one. Unless I am missing something, 'you are missing my hints' doesn't have anything to do with restroom signs, right?”
Carola sighed again.
“If only we knew, Indra. If only we knew.”
A knock on the door. A junior officer entered.
“Forensics reports that there are indeed no prints on the restroom signs. All wiped perfectly clean.”
“They did inventory the signs, right?”
“Of course. The entire stack. Top to bottom, the first three were all the generic “WC” restroom sign. Then there was one for the ladies room. One more generic, then a sign for a disabled toilet, one more ladies room, two generic WC signs, a sign for a gender-neutral toilet, one more disabled, and finally a last generic WC sign.”
“Seems like just a random collection.”
“Nothing is random with this rapist, Indra! Even though this looked more like a rush job, let's not assume anything.”
She turned back to the officer.
“Do we know where the signs come from?”
“All stolen from public buildings near the crime scene. Dismounted from the walls using subtle screwdrivers or brute force, whatever worked. All except one WC sign are already accounted for.”
“Let me guess. All in areas without video surveillance?”
“Either that or the cameras were out of order. Nothing to help you further. That's all I have for now, miss Anser. Can I go?”
“Dismissed. Thanks!”
Once more the room fell silent as each of the team members pursued their own thoughts. Until suddenly the sound of silence was brusquely interrupted by a hand slapping a forehead.
“DAMMIT! THAT'S IT!!!!!”
Indra and Stephen immediately turned to watch their superior, but she didn't say anything. Not at first.
“How the hell did I miss that,” she finally continued, almost whispering, “how did I … did we …?”
“What?”
“We did what?”
“We kept missing the hints. Because the hints were missing.”
Impressions of a new world
Mary Forrester sits outside the principal's office, twitching her fingers. She checks the wall clock for the fourth time in the last minute. When the door opens and she hears her name, she nearly falls from jumping up too fast.
“Thanks for coming on such a short notice,” the principal says, as they each sit down on one of the two sofas in his office, “would you like some coffee or tea, or perhaps some sex with a student while we talk?”
“Coffee is fine. No sex, please, I want to fully focus on the conversation.”
“No problem.”
The principal presses a button.
“Melinda, one coffee please.”
He then returns his attention to Mary.
“Do you mind if I fuck Melinda while we talk? She needs extra attention because her father is traveling this week, and I'm on a tight schedule today.”
“Of course not! The interest of children always comes first.”
A blonde 6-year-old girl comes in, carrying a cup of coffee.
“Careful, Melinda, that's hot. Good, well done! Now come here in my lap, please.”
“Oh thanks, mister principal!”
The principal presses his finger against her lips, as she climbs in his lap and lowers her small body over his already erect dick.
“Shush! No talking while I am working.”
“Yes, mister principal. Sorry, mister principal!”
“So, miss Forrester, …”
“Mary, please.”
“Mary. I called you because we are concerned over your daughter, Stella. We have observed that she is drawn too much to adults for her sexual activities.”
Mary frowns.
“So? We all know, since the 2027 'New View On Sex' report, that it's healthy for children to have sex with adults.”
“Sex with all[/i] [i]ages, is what the report says. And that's our concern. Stella seems to be excluding children.”
“Oh? Oh no! Do you mean there's a problem with her social behavior?”
“No, no, not at all. With non-sexual games and other social activities, we see nothing special. But when children ask her for sex, she often declines. And when she is horny, she always asks the adult staff. We don't mind, of course, she's an incredible good fuck, but we're concerned about Stella's lack of interest in sex with children.”
The conversation halts briefly as Melinda frantically rubs her clit to bring herself to a mini orgasm, while pressing hard down to take the principal as deep as possible. The principal closes his eyes, fighting to postpone his orgasm. Mary uses the moment to put a sugar cube in her coffee, stir, and empty the cup in one large gulp.
“So, what can I do to help?” Mary informs, after Melinda's little body stops shuddering and she resumes her happy bouncing on the principal's hard dick.
“Well, for starters, your personal situation. I am sorry to bring this up, but you are single, right?”
All of a sudden, Mary Forrester sits up straight, eyes spewing fire.
“Yes, I am single. But don't you dare accuse me of being a bad mother. I may be a single parent, but Stella gets everything she needs. I make sure to have a sex friend, or if need be a prostitute, at least five times per week. And of course Stella can have sex with them too, if she wants to. Which she often does. So don't make this about me, or about my single status, my Stella probably has more and better sex than many other kids here in school!”
“I'm sorry, Mary, I didn't mean to accuse you. I'm sure you're a fantastic mother for Stella, my apologies if it came across wrong. But I had to verify.”
“Okay, apologies accepted.”
“Thanks. Wait, one moment. A little faster please, Melinda, I'm nearly there. Yes, just like that. Yes, oh, yeah. Yyyeeesssss.......”
Mary smiles as she sees the principal's cock twitch. Shortly after, some excess sperm leaks out of Melinda's tight, hairless pussy.
“Thanks, mister principal,” the girl cheers as she hops off.
“Sorry, no time to make you cum, Melinda. Tomorrow I'll have extra time for you.”
“That's okay, mister principal. Fatima has a new sex toy that she says is amazing, and she promised I could try it during recess.”
With that, she races out of the office.
“Wait,” the principal starts, “you still need …”
The door bangs shut.
“… to clean this,” he finishes his sentence half-heartedly.
“No problem, I'll take care of that,” Mary offers, as she gets on her knees in front of the principal and sucks his now limp dick into her mouth.
“Anyway,” the principal continues, “your response actually confirms our suspicion. Stella gets so much adult sex, probably from very good lovers, that children with their lesser experience lose their appeal to her.”
“Oh no,” Mary responds, as she returns to her seat and wipes the back of her hand across her lips, “that would be terrible indeed. So, what should I do? Should I not allow Stella to have sex with my sex friends?”
Now it's the principal's turn to get visibly upset.
“Miss Forrester, how dare you imply that I would ever suggest withholding sex from a minor. You know as well as I do that that would be a gross violation of the updated United Nations Declaration of the Rights of the Child.”
“Oh, no, of course not! My apologies. I got carried away.”
“I understand, Mary. Accepted. I understand that you get emotional when hearing about possible abnormal sexual development in your child.”
“So what should I do, then?”
“You? Nothing special. Your conformation of our theory is all we need. There are special programs we can enroll Stella in. She'll be fine. We'll send some papers tomorrow for you to sign for approval, all the details are in there. We'll use completely respecting and playful ways to re-awaken Stella's interest in her peers.”
“Thanks, principal.”
“Are you okay, Mary? You look shook up. Should I get you a glass of water or a stiff drink to calm you before you head out?”
“No, I actually think I need to get back on your earlier offer. I think I need sex now to relax.”
“Sure, I'll ask some students. Girls, boys, what age and how many?”
“Could I just do a sixty-nine with you? I was surprised just now how excellent you taste.”
Continue to: >> Chapter 7: Look at what isn't there | Return to: << Chapter 5: Too early for this << Table Of Contents << P.D. Vile's stories
Chapter 7: Look at what isn't there
Carola looked at her aides triumphantly, but their questioning faces told her they needed more explanation.
“What do you mean, the hints were missing? They were there! We have them all here!”
“Come on, do I really need to explain? It's obvi …”
But then Carola interrupted herself.
“Oh, no. Wait. I'm sorry. It's obvious now, now that I see it. It wasn't at first.”
“So, what is obvious, Carola. Help us out!”
“All the time we were looking at what the rapist left for us. That was our mistake. We were looking at the wrong thing. The hint was not what the rapist left. It was what he didn't leave. We have to look at what isn't there.”
“Look at what isn't there?”
“Yes. Here, take the first victim. What did the rapist leave?”
“Tickets for a trip to Orlando.”
“Yes, indeed. Fully arranged. Here's the envelope with all he left. Look carefully. Spot what's missing.”
Stephen mumbled as he leafed through the vouchers.
“Restaurant vouchers. Entrance to the Universal Orgies Theme Park. Hotel room. Entrance to Disneyworld All Ages Magic World of Sex. Seems compl …”
But Indra interrupted him.
“And how should they get there?”
“Why? By plane, of course … oh shit, that's it! There are no plane tickets included!”
“Exactly!” Carola praised, “and that is the hint we were missing all the time. It's not about the trip. It's about the missing flight.”
“So, the second rape … the handcuffs. What's missing there?”
Stephen looked as enthusiastic as a school boy learning a new sex variation.
“The keys,” Indra immediately responded, “obviously. The cuffs were PlayDom X38. Those have the keys attached with an unbreakable cord. It must have taken effort to get them removed.”
“Yes, makes sense.”
“How about the third?” Carola asked, her lips curled in a way that betrayed she knew the answer already.
“Hmmm, what did we find. Parchment. And ink. But … aha, no pen!”
“Pen? Nobody writes with pen on parchment. I'm sure the rapist wrote in style, using a real quill.”
“Exactly!”
“How about your missed breakfast?” Indra asked Carola, who cringed a bit at the memory.
“Good question. Let's check the photographs.”
“It really didn't help that you …” Stephen started, but Indra hushed him. There were more important things now.
“So there was coffee and orange juice. Toast. Jam. Plastic plates and cups, cheap hotel style. Toast. And bacon strips.”
“And some sausages, look here!”
“Anything more?”
“No, I don't think so. So, what's missing?”
“Eggs? That must be it! Every hotel serves scrambled eggs with their bacon and toast.”
“Ah, yes. So scrambled eggs are missing here.”
“And that leaves us with the restroom signs. What's missing there?”
“Order,” Stephen mumbled, “it was a chaotic mess, not neatly stacked up as I would have expected based on the other crime scenes.”
“Ha, ha, funny,” Indra sneered, then proceeded to proclaim, “but what's actually missing is the men's room sign. We have ladies room signs, disabled toilet, a gender-neutral sign, and a whole stack of generic WC signs, but not a single men's room.”
“Bingo! That must be it.”
And then the room fell silent again. After about a minute, Indra gave a hesitant recap.
“So then the actual hints are … plane tickets; keys; quill; scrambled eggs; and a men's room sign?”
“Looks like it. And that last note quite literally told us so.”
“As if he wants to get caught.”
“Yes. In fact, I think he expected me to catch him after miss Hepburn already.”
“Why?”
“The two-day break. The hasty way in which the bathroom signs were collected. And of course the simple fact that the note almost literally tells us where to look, instead of just vaguely pointing at the hints as previous notes did.”
“And yet,” Indra mumbled, as she reviewed the list of hints that she had scribbled on the wall, “yet I don't see how this helps.”
The three fell silent for a long time as they stared at the wall, trying to connect the new clues in their heads, trying to find a pattern in the clues.
“Wait,” Stephen suddenly mumbled, “I think I see a pattern between the clues. Well, some of them.”
“What?” Indra prodded.
“The quill. Quills are always bird's feathers, right?”
“Yes.”
“And the eggs. Birds lay eggs.”
“So … two of the hints refer to birds?”
“Three,” Carola intervened, as she nodded approvingly in Stephen's direction, “the tickets too. We phrased it as missing plane tickets, but many would say that there was no flight booked. Flight refers to birds too.”
“So … birds? And how are the men's room and a key related to birds?”
“Perhaps they aren't? The first clue refers to birds. The second clue … well, a key, no idea what. And then when we got nowhere, the rapist left more bird-related clues?”
“Because he had expected us to get it after one clue?”
“No. I'm sure the first four rapes – and clues! – were planned in advance. It's only the last one, the rape of Iris White, that feels like a hasty afterthought.”
“Agreed.”
Indra had been remarkably silent during the last exchange. Once Carola and Stephen fell silent, she slowly, carefully, as if afraid to hurt someone, opened her mouth.
“Carola, I'm afraid we're wrong. These are not clues. These are just further insults to you.”
“Not clues? Well, I am fairly sure … No, let's hear your theory first. Why do you think these are not clues?”
“Because the bird literally is you.”
“Huh?”
“What was the most commonly used bird for quills?”
“Uhm? A goose, I think?”
“Yes. Indeed. A goose. And the Latin word for goose is anser. Literally your name. We're treating these as hints. But they are just …”
She could not finish her sentence. Suddenly, Carola froze all over. She interrupted Indra, whispering hoarsely: “Get out. Both of you.”
“What?”
“I said get out! NOW!!!!”
Two seconds of silence. Then Indra and Stephen got up, left the office, and closed the door behind them. As soon as the door was shut, they heard the smashing sounds of stuff being thrown against the wall, banging sounds as if someone was hitting a fist or even a head against the wall, and what could only be described as a primal cry, filled with anger and frustration.
Indra and Stephen looked at each other. They had witnessed outbursts of their boss before. But never like this. Never this loud. And never this long. It lasted a full three minutes before finally the sounds behind the door faded.
Silence followed.
Then they heard Carola's voice, seemingly calm and collected.
“Sorry about that. You can come in again.”
The office was totally wrecked. All clues were torn from the wall and thrown around, nothing that had been standing on a desk was still there, the floor was littered with clues, smashed down computers, and shattered photo frames that had been on Stephen's and Indra's desk, showing their partners and children. But neither said anything. They had just one question on their mind.
“So … what was that about, Carola? Related to the case, I guess?”
“I know who did it.”
Carola's voice sounded bland, carefully controlled. She still fought to control her emotions, and only barely succeeded.
“He even signed his notes, yet I missed it. Heck, it's all my fault!”
She sobbed, then regained control as she pushed the intercom button.
“Dispatch? Please send an arrest team to my house. You will find my husband there, waiting for you. He will not resist. Please bring him to me first, before doing the paperwork.”
“What? Your husband? Clemens?”
“Yes. That's what CA in the notes actually stands for. Clemens Anser. He signed them, and we were too fixated on my so-called fame to even see!”
“But … why him?”
“The remaining clues. The key. Key in French is clé. A reference to his first name, just as clear as the Latin reference to his last name that you decoded, Indra. And the other references. And then, when we didn't get it, even when he expected us, he added the rest of his name: men's room. Clé … men's. Clemens.”
“Okay. Now that you say it, it's obvious indeed. But still … why him? What's his motive?”
“I am,” Carola said, sounding depressed, “I am the motive. He told me so. He dry-humping told me so, and I was too dumb to see. I left him no choice.”
Her voice trailed off and she started to sob. Stephen and Indra exchanged a quick glance, then Stephen left the office and closed the door. They both knew that Indra would have more chance to help Carola regain her balance.
Impressions of a new world
Evgeni Vorobyov sits himself down on the first available bench near the Uber pickup stand. He checks his phone to confirm that his driver is still ten minutes away. Time to open …
His thoughts are interrupted by a cheerful “Hey, Evgeni!”. He looks up to see the twin boy and girl that he encountered on the flight, and that made this flight one to remember for him. They have fallen behind at the airport when their parents ushered them into a public restroom/shower to wash off his sperm, that was still running down their little legs. But apparently they have now caught up with him again.
“Do you want a ride? We have our car parked here. It will be a tight squeeze to fit you between our little brats, but if you want …”
“Thanks for the offer, but I think you're heading for Seattle, right? My hotel is in Tacoma.”
“Ah, okay. Well, then enjoy your stay here. And thanks once more for keeping our children busy.”
“No problem at all, the pleasure was entirely mine.”
Evgeni waves and looks as the family disappears behind a corner. Then he takes out his phone to check the Uber app. Still eight minutes. Time to open FindR. He adjusts his location from the airport to Tacoma, sets the time for the evening, and starts the search.
The first profile comes up. Kevin, aged 12. His deep blue eyes truly stand out in his portrait photo. He has short dark blond hair, and his ears stand somewhat off of his head. The full body photo shows an average looking boy, slightly chubby. The last picture is a close up of a hard boy dick, standing straight up from a bed of early pubic hair.
Evgeni smiles at the gorgeous pictures. But then, after some hesitation, swipes right. He returns to the preferences and switches from bi to straight. The boy on the plane was fun, but for tonight he wants to have straight sex.
Next profile. Lily, aged 46. Her portrait photo reveals a warm smiling face, with curly hair, dyed orange. The little wrinkles in the corners of her head make her look sympathetic rather than old, and the broad smile of her fleshy lips completes the picture of a warm and loving motherly woman. Evgeni looks at the full body picture, surprised to see a very slender woman, with firm C-cup size tits that despite her age still stand proud without support. A quick look at the profile reveals that she does indeed love to work out. He quickly scrolls to her preferences. A strong preference for one on one sex, no gender preference, loves spending a full night with the same partner but likes a quick fuck too. Prefers her partner to take the lead and be dominant, but no bondage or SM.
He flicks back to the last picture to see a beautiful shaved pussy with thick outer lips. Nodding approvingly, Evgeni swipes left.
Next. Dolores, aged 13. No portrait photo, but a picture of her upper body from the chest up, taken from the side to make her eye-catching long blonde hair stand out. The photo also reveals two very delicious looking budding breasts on her chest, that Evgeni just knows to be insanely suckable. The next picture is a close up of her ass, as she bends over and parts her cheeks to reveal her tight asshole. Beneath that, between her closed legs, are her labia, visibly wet. The last picture is a full body picture of Dolores sitting down, her legs spread, a dildo shoved deep inside her cunt. Evgeni zooms in to confirm that she is still completely hairless down there.
Excited, he looks at her profile. Loves to be used endlessly, by men and boys of all ages. Loves gangbangs. Loves to be filled in all holes. The badges next to her name reveal that her profile is six years old, so she must have made her account when she turned seven, the minimum age for a personal FindR profile. She has already found over 400 partners through FindR, and has an average rating of 4.8 stars.
Evgeni sighs and swipes right.
“What? Why?” a woman says. Evgeni was too engrossed in the FindR app to notice her sitting down next to him. But apparently she is watching his screen.
“She looks awesome to me. I am sure she would give you a very good time!”
Evgeni smiles at the woman.
“Yes, I am sure she would. But after reading her profile … You know, I just came off a flight where two children took turns riding my cock. And I am jet-lagged. I just need a nice fuck after dinner, and then sleep in each other's arms. This girl needs more. If I had my friends here, I would've swiped left in an instance, and we would have partied all night, as this girl deserves. But I'm on a business trip.”
“Oh, I understand. Great to see that you put her needs before yours. Yes, you are right, I don't think a single man would be enough for her. But I am very much in the same spot as you. Perhaps we can share dinner, fuck each other to sleep, and be a warm pillow for each other?”
“Are you heading to Tacoma?”
The woman nods.
“Done. My name is Evgeni, by the way.”
“Claire. Nice to meet you.”
Continue to: >> Epilogue | Return to: << Chapter 6: Funny how I missed that << Table Of Contents << P.D. Vile's stories