Memories Ch 05 3

This is part of a multi-chapter story and not a stand alone story; you are recommended to start reading from the first chapter.

Author's notes.

This story is quite light on the sex part and definitely not meant as stroker/written porn. Don't expect many explicit sex scenes. It is about recollections of sexual activity rather than about having sex directly.

Synopsis

A young, pretty woman is found lying unconscious on the road, naked. She is taken to hospital, where a check-up reveals she's had sex with no less than five different men.

Oswald Jones, detective, is in charge of the investigation in this strange case. Together with his colleague Julia, a police counsellor, and his friend Thelma, a news paper journalist, he tries to figure out what has happened to this lady.

During the investigation they find out that this lady is not alone in her ordeal. Oswald and his friends dig in deeper and deeper, to uncover it all.

* * * * * *

Chapter 5. An indecent proposal and a photo shoot.

That Monday, the start of the second week into the investigation of what happened to Ms Locatelli, I had my work cut out for me. Two burglary reports and one drunken fight had taken place over the weekend. And I was the one to investigate those events.

It was good to have something to do, even though I would have rather been sitting idle as that would have meant that no crime had taken place in our area. Thanks to those incidents I was out on the streets for most of the day, and it mostly kept my mind off the Locatelli case, a case which I'd love to solve, but in which I'd run out of clues to follow up on.

When I arrived back at my office in the late afternoon, I found a note on my desk that I had to call back Dr Whitewater, which I did immediately. The phone was answered quickly.

"Hello, this is detective Jones speaking, I got your message to call you back," I said.

"Ah, Mr Jones. Good that you called me. Today I received news from the toxicology lab regarding Ms Locatelli."

"Great, go ahead."

"In her blood and urine samples, they found traces of a benzodiazepine. This is a family of drugs, many of which have amnesic properties. However, this is not one of the known benzodiazepines. We don't know exactly what we're looking at, and as it is a blood sample rather than a pure sample of the drug we can not figure that out. It was hard enough to detect its presence."

"Any better known varieties of that drug? This name doesn't ring a bell to me."

"A common one is Rohypnol. And there are several more varieties to this drug."

"That's indeed a well known date rape drug. Causes amnesia, lowered inhibitions, and occasionally deep sleep. That sounds pretty much like what we found in Ms Locatelli. Anything else you found?"

"Only this drug and alcohol. We suspect the lady got it with her drink or maybe in a snack, and that this is a rather more powerful amnesic drug than we know now. It appears to be so powerful it prevents memories from before the drug was ingested to be stored in long term memory, considering she can not remember much of the whole afternoon, not even arriving at the party. And that is rather interesting as usually it only starts working when ingested."

He paused and I rushed to add, "It sure is powerful stuff. And even when the memories do come back, the victims think it is just the memory of a very realistic dream."

Dr Whitewater continued, "Indeed, this is something new to us. We have never heard of any drug having such properties. Normally memories do not come back at all."

"Is this a banned drug?" I asked.

"As long as we don't know what it is exactly, we don't know whether it is banned or not. However if it's indeed a new compound, it's usually not on the prohibited substances list, and as such not banned."

I closed out the conversation, "Thanks. This confirms many things we thought already. I'm looking forward to receiving your official report."

The following morning, the files from Facebook arrived. There was a lot of data they had collected from Sonar, including chat logs with hundreds of different people. There were over three hundred friends in his friends list, more than listed on his profile page. Possibly some had unfriended him, yet were still included in the data dump we got.

With the help of Cart and two other officers we checked all the profiles of these friends. All women, all single, and all at least 18 years of age. Most were in their 20s, some early 30s. Most were from our town, others from nearby places. At least no under age issues here, I was glad to see that. It appeared these people had at least some morals.

Again I ended up having lunch alone. All officers were out on duty, even Cart had been called out for an investigation and Julia, well I had no idea where she went. Only two uniformed officers were at the station, and they had to man the reception desk. I relaxed, sat down, contemplating my next move in the Locatelli case.

Before I was halfway through my lunch, Julia arrived, carrying a takeaway lunch.

"Ah, there you are," she said excitedly, and sat down at my table. "I was looking for you."

She bent over the table a bit towards me, and looked straight at me. I wonder what made her so excited. She hadn't even unpacked her lunch yet. She talked fast. "Well, I'm just back from another visit to Ms Locatelli. She remembers more. This morning she told me she recalls a blow job contest."

I stopped eating for a moment, and looked back at her. "OK, this is crazy," I said after a short pause.

It was crazy, in more ways than one. First of all, was the fact that Julia wanted to talk about it over lunch in the canteen. Even though there was no-one else around this time, just her, me, and the coffee and soup machines, it's still not like her. Secondly was her excitement. It was as if Ms Locatelli's story had struck a chord with her, and got her all worked up.

"It is. And she told it to all me totally matter-of-factly, as if it didn't involve her."

"That's what the mystery drug did to her then. It was her body, but it wasn't her. I'm still waiting for final results on that one, it takes the lab a long time. But anyway, back to the subject. What'd she tell you?"

Julia sat back, relaxing a bit, "A blow job contest. She didn't join she said, she just watched that one. Five girls in a row, on their knees, sucking off a guy. No hands, just using their mouth. When the guy came, the girl would show his cum on her tongue as proof and another guy would come forward. First to suck off two, won." She moved forward again, and added, "Can you believe it?"

"Well, obviously you can,"

I thought,

"and it sounds like you'd have loved to be there for whatever twisted reason you have for it. You're usually far more professional when it comes to talking about your victim interviews."

Then I said aloud, "Mmm. Any idea whether this blow job contest was before or after the sex contest she was involved in?"

She set straight up, and confidently continued, "Before, positively. But she can not tell me the actual order of events. To me it sounds like they were slowly turning up the heat to in the end get everyone involved. She said she felt embarrassed, curious, excited, everything at once."

"The memories excited her? You just said she told the whole thing matter-of-factly."

"It is odd indeed. And she's positive it actually happened. Again she doesn't remember any lead-in to this contest, any kind of prize or reward for the winner, nothing. Just that it happened."

"It sounds like she's just making it up."

"Agreed, though I think she's telling the truth. She's quite consistent. Though it should embarrass her far more than it does."

"She's not the only one who's supposed to be more embarrassed,"

I thought.

"I clearly recall from watching your first interview with her that she almost had an orgasm just reliving her memories."

"Now you're exaggerating, though yes she showed signs of physical arousal."

Nicely said.

"And your second interview, about well let's just call it the speed fucking contest for lack of a better name, she looked like she'd do it again in an instant."

"True, that was my impression too. Even though she said she didn't like the idea, her body showed something different, very different."

"Is she hiding something?"

"I'm not sure. I don't think so. I think it's more like a battle between her mind, that says it's morally wrong and the police should stop it from happening again, and her body which enjoyed it tremendously and wants to go for an encore. When I ask her whether she feels good or bad about the memories, she always says she feels bad, but her body is giving me completely opposite signals, as do her words when she's telling me about it."

"Does she want to file a complaint?"

"No."

"Troublesome. Without her complaint, we can't do much. If she's not willing to press charges, from a legal perspective there has been no rape, sexual assault, or anything else. She's not under age so we can only conclude that it was consensual. Which leaves us with the potentially illegal drug use."

"Of which we also still know nothing."

"Yesterday late afternoon I had the doctor on the phone about this."

"Really."

"He told me it is probably a variety of a known drug, like the date rape drug Rohypnol. But then one with improved working, so to say. It turns the girls into willing sex machines, acting purely on their desires, and in the process forgetting most about it."

"Not entirely, the memories do come back, albeit dream-like."

"That seems to be a design flaw in the drug. Also wondering why we don't see it out on the streets yet. If it really works this well, there must be a lot of money to be made."

"Next thing you know is everyone having sex with everyone else."

"And that may not be an entirely bad thing. Make love, not war. However it may just mean that we're out of business. No crimes, no investigations to do. And as everyone enjoys what they're doing, no victims for you to counsel."

Julia laughed. "Well, those prudish politicians will make such a drug illegal before you learn how to spell it's name, and you'll be overworked soon after, chasing the dealers."

That afternoon we continued to work on the Facebook data. We contacted all of Sonar's friends, however got very limited replies. Just five women replied within that afternoon, only one of whom had actually been to a party. And she said no memories at all, though she gave me the feeling maybe she didn't want to remember anything. Her replies were pure politeness, as if she was not able to ignore messages from unknown people.

From a preliminary assessment of the chat logs we found about forty women that said they would join a party. Looking at the dates of the invitations it appeared there had been three such parties so far, and in about two weeks from now there should be another one, based on what Sonar told Julia.

Late that afternoon I walked over to Julia's office for some discussion of the case.

She told me, "I tried to talk to Sonar again, but it seems he's got wet feet or so, and doesn't want to talk to me any more. Even suggesting to him that I'd want to join another party doesn't work. He doesn't like to be questioned, that's for sure."

"Probably part of his self-protection measures. Only target the gullible, women that don't ask questions. And drop those that do."

"Did you get any further with that creepy hotel ruin?"

"No, other than having more telephone numbers trace back to that location, not at all. I don't understand what they've done to make it look like that is where they are located. I want to spend another afternoon there, but haven't had the time yet."

"You'll have to find yourself another date, I'm not available."

"I know, I wouldn't dare ask you again. And for now I'm focussed on those Facebook chat logs."

"Yes..." she demurred, "It's going to be boring, but I'll read all these logs and see what I can make of it. People tend to show their character, if only you know what to look for. You have to read between the lines."

"Good luck," I said aloud while thinking,

"Boring? Don't get your fantasies going too much, girl. The bits that I've read so far contain quite some explicit sexual fantasies. Not what I'd call exactly boring."

It was Thursday, shortly after lunch, when Julia finally came back to me with the report on Sonar's chat logs. A few more of Sonar's Facebook friends had replied to our enquiry in the meantime, however they had no further clues for us, and only two of those that replied remembered going to a party in the first place.

"Done," she said. "All read, and lots of information found. That's quite a colourful character, that Sonar."

"Well done. If you were my girlfriend I'd give you a kiss."

She laughed. "First listen to what I have to say, then you may reconsider the offer. Note that my profile description is not based on hard science, it is a profile, my impression of this man."

"OK, go ahead."

"This Sonar is a very careful man. That we knew already. These parties he organises by himself, alone, no other people involved. I think he is in his mid to late 30s, could be early 40s, not older. Single. Probably working in pharmaceuticals or at least he has access to pharma research facilities, and he has a solid background in chemistry. He designed this drug by himself and created it probably on his own, with the express purpose of running these sex parties. A very dominant man he is, manipulative, used to getting what he wants."

"Any idea where he lives or so?"

"He likes his privacy, and therefore likely lives in a somewhat isolated home out of town. Driving around in a large dark coloured SUV, he thinks he owns the world. Or at least, that he is above most of the rest of the world."

"He must be well off, then."

"Sure, he sounds like he is well off. As I said he's used to getting his way, plus the necessary access to lab equipment for the development of this drug means he's in a pretty high position within a medium or large sized company. Not a small fry."

"Wow, he dropped a lot of information in these chats. And especially the last part is something we really can work with. There are not that many pharmaceutical companies around, and his high position narrows it down as well."

"Indeed. And for position, he is likely not at the top. He still has to work hard to get what he wants, and to prove himself. However for him it is just the end results that count, not the way he gets there."

"Are those sex parties part of some kind of master plan?"

"I am not sure, really. It could be a testing ground for his drug, trying to improve on it."

"He really doesn't care about those poor girls, does he."

"Not at all. As I said, it's the result that counts, not how he gets there. That he arranged for a bunch of young women to be drugged and violated, that's just collateral damage to him. If he sees it as damage already, considering that the drug makes the girls engage in the sex wantonly, and it makes them forget about it afterwards. He may simply consider that as no damage done."

I suggested, "His secretive behaviour means to me he knows what he does is wrong."

"Sure, he knows, but he doesn't care. As long as he gets what he wants, and gets away with it, he's fine. And I think he gets a kick out of it, the feeling of having power. Power over the women whom he turns into sluts, power over the men who have to pull the right strings to get into those parties. I'm not even sure whether he personally participates in the sex."

"He said all that?"

"Well, no, he didn't, this is mostly my profiling based on the overall character I glean from his way of talking."

"I'm really impressed. It makes total sense to me, a character like that fits nicely in the whole picture."

She turned her cheek to me, and pointed a finger at it, "So how about that kiss, have I deserved it?"

"Sure you have," I replied, grabbing her shoulders and planting a firm kiss on her cheek. "Great job." She blushed and smiled shyly, as if she didn't expect me to actually give her that kiss. She should have known better than that.

"And I have another surprise for you," I continued, "Just today I found another account on Facebook, that seems to be related. Called Radar, this is someone who claims to be hosting sex parties of the kind Ms Locatelli and the other ladies have been to. One offer is the night of your life, with a plethora of hot, willing girls, where your wildest fantasies come true."

"Sounds like our guy. But are you sure it's the same?"

"Quite sure, mostly as I can hardly imagine more of such things going on, and the words Radar and Sonar are related. I contacted this person, asking for more information, and the offer appears to be genuine. I actually received a bunch of photos of just the kind of things Ms Locatelli has described to us."

"That's crazy. So they even took photos and are now spreading them."

"To his credit, faces are blacked out, so the images are anonymous. And it seems our Ms Locatelli is not in them. However we may find clues as to the location, where these photos were taken."

"So what does it take to get invited?"

"Well, not too much. Other than a wad of cash, you need to give a doctor's declaration of a clean bill of health, and a referral from another guest. The latter is the hardest, as it means you have to know them. Alternatively you pay double and allow them to do a background check."

"Well, he knows it's immoral at best, he just doesn't care," Julia concluded.

It is always good to know your adversary. And over the last two days I learned a lot about what kind of person we were looking for. Unfortunately still not a single lead to an actual person. The IP addresses Facebook logged were all from the TOR anonymity network, which meant we had no means of figuring out the actual IP address used. This didn't come as a great surprise to me, actually I expected something like this.

"And something else," Julia said, handing me a USB drive. "This morning I had yet another interview with Ms Locatelli. This is what seems to be the start of the party. I don't think there are any useful clues in it, it just completes the picture of the night."

It seems the first memories of the night were the last to return. I popped the USB drive in my laptop, plugged in my headphones, and opened the file that was on it.

This was indeed a description of the start of the party. How she got there was still a complete blank, and intermediate sections were missing. The latter is not too surprising, as it is always the main events that register in our minds, while the intermediate chatter is quickly forgotten about.

"I still have no idea how I got there, but I've started to remember more of the party. It's increasingly vague and misty though. I remember being at what looks like a quite normal party. A bunch of people drinking, chatting, mingling. There were snacks available, too. I was having a good time, it seems most people didn't know each other, it was a bit slow at the beginning. I ended up talking to some people, really don't remember any details of what we're talking about.

"After a while, when the whole thing had warmed up well, a few men climbed up on a small stage and started to dance. They were dancing pretty well, and quickly got the attention of the other people. They took off their jackets, and continued to take off the rest of their clothes. It was quite a show. Looked inspired by the Chippendales or so."

"They took off all of it?"

"Yes, all of it. The full Monty."

"And then?"

"They were just the starter, getting it going. Standing on the stage, naked, these guys invited others to come and do the same. Soon after a few more guys were on stage, dancing and stripping as well. And more followed."