Selling The Law

Selling the Law

I wrote her information down on my pad and said, "Well, thank you for your time, ma'am."

The elderly woman standing in her front doorway smiled and said, "I'm sorry I couldn't be more help, detective."

I looked at her from my pad, smiled and said, "It's okay, Ms. Forrester. It seems no one in your neighbor saw or heard anything that day. Thank you for your time."

She closed her door and I walked off her porch and toward the street. I'm a detective in the Burglary Unit of the Jacksonville Police Department, and I have spent the majority of the afternoon conducting a canvass relating to a burglary which occurred at a house on this street. Nothing particular about it, and there's not much follow up information. This case will most likely be suspended until such time more evidence is discovered. Unfortunately, this is how most burglaries end up. This is also why all the new detectives in the agency cut their teeth in burglary.

I've been on the department for a little over five years, and I was assigned to Burglary a little over a month ago. Though the cases are frustratingly difficult to solve, it's still a great place to work. I spend my afternoons going to the neighborhoods of cases I've been assigned and follow up with the victims and neighbors in person. Just in case the patrol officers who wrote the initial reports missed anything. So far, none of my extra canvassing has unearthed anything, but I won't find undiscovered evidence by sitting behind my desk in the police station.

I check the street out one last time and figure the only house I have not visited was the one at the end of the cul-de-sac all by itself. I jump into my unmarked police car and drive to the home that is pretty much sequestered from all the other homes on this block. I get out of my car, with my legal pad in my hand, and I survey the property.

Unlike every other house in this neighborhood, the yard appears uncared for. It's not over grown, but it definitely needs some mowing and trimming. The house itself is older, but nice. It's a pretty large home situated on a fairly large lot. It's a ranch-style with what appears to be an attached three-car garage. The backyard has a six-foot privacy fence that ensures no one from the street can see into the back of the property.

I walk up the steps to the front door and ring the doorbell. When I do not hear any chimes, I knock on the door. After almost two full minutes go by without any noise or action, I turn around and start to descend the steps. That's when the front door opens and a large man steps out onto the porch.

"Can I help you, young man?" he asks.

I turn around and show him my badge and credentials. "Good afternoon, sir, I'm Detective Michael Ryan with the Jacksonville Police Department's Burglary Unit. I was hoping I could ask you a couple questions."

The man looked around somewhat nervously and said in a gruff voice, "I didn't cause any trouble and I didn't call the cops!"

I gave this man my most disarming smile and said, "Sir, you're not in any trouble. I'm investigating a burglary to your neighbor's house a few days ago."

He crossed his hairy arms across his big chest and said, "I didn't steal no one's shit!"

I sighed and shook my head. "Sir, I'm not saying you did. I've interviewed all the people who are home on this street to see if they noticed anything last Monday from 8 am to 6 pm. Someone jumped your neighbor's fence, kicked in the rear door, and stole some electronic and jewelry. I'm just wondering if you happened to notice something out of the ordinary at that time."

He slowly lowered his arms down to his side and blinked several times. Then he smiled and shook his head. "God damn, officer, I'm sorry I'm being such a jerk. I get defensive sometimes and blow things way out of proportion. I'm so sorry."

He stuck his hand out as a peace offering. I shook his hand. "No problem, sir."

I'm not a small man - 5'11" and 180 pounds - but my hand was swallowed up by his big paw. He was a very large man. I'm happy he decided to calm down, considering I was out here all alone.

When I released, he held on for a moment longer before letting go of my hand. Then he asked, "This was this past Monday?"

"Yes, sir."

He nodded. "I didn't see anything but I have a jam up camera system that not only points at my property, but also several of the cameras point to the street. Maybe one of them picked up something."

I checked my watch. It was almost 4 pm, quitting time for me, so I said, "Can you download it and give me a copy?"

He shook his head. "No, the system doesn't allow for downloading, but if you want you can watch it and record any scene with your phone."

"Can I come back tomorrow morning and check out the video?"

He sighed and replied, "You can but my system deletes everything 72 hours after it's recorded, and tomorrow is Thursday...you might be cutting it close."

I checked my watch again and sighed in frustration. I just wanted to complete my supplement report and call it a day, but if this system had some evidence, I definitely did not want to lose the chance to recover some actionable intelligence. And, I figured, if I watched the camera at faster speed, I could be done in an hour or so. Not like I had anything else to do.

"If you don't mind, sir, I'll come in and watch the video," I said. "It shouldn't take too long."

The large man smiled, stepped back and held the front door open for me. "Right this way, detective."

He led me to a back room and I was shocked at the computer system he had set up. It was massive with several large LED screens, at least five towers and a row of servers in the corner.

Noticing me eyeing his system, he said, "I'm a software designer. Video games mostly."

He started setting up the camera display, and when he was done, he stood up and directed me to the chair in front of the screen. "It's all yours. Just use the mouse to control the speed."

"Thank you," I said as I sat in front of the display.

"Can I get you a drink," he asked. "Coke? Water? Something stronger?"

I chuckled. "A water would be great, thanks."

A few minutes later, he returned with an open bottle of cold water. Not realizing how thirsty I was, I took a long pull and placed it on a coaster he had near the terminal.

I did not see anything so far but continued to speed through the saved video, when my eyes suddenly blurred. I froze the video and rubbed my eyes. I had no idea what brought that on, when a wave of dizziness swept over me. I leaned back in the chair and tried to get up, but I stumbled and feel back onto the chair.

"You alright, young detective," the man said from behind me.

I swung my head drunkenly toward his voice, and I saw him smiling at me from the doorway. I glanced back at the open bottle of water that I had drank from and knew that he had drugged me! I slowly rolled my head back toward the man, and he was leaning against the open door, his arms crossed over his chest and sporting a devilish smile.

"Ketamine," he said. "I put ketamine in your water. Practically tasteless but it's pretty damn effective. Don't you think, Detective Ryan?"

I tried to respond but only managed to open my mouth and grunt. The man chuckled and slowly, deliberately, started walking toward me. I knew I was in serious trouble. It took a monumental effort, but I moved my right hand to the handgun on my hip and attempted to pull it out.

The man stopped in front of me and said, "Are you going to pull that out of the holster and use it? If I were you, I'd definitely use the gun because you're not going to like what I'm going to do to you."

I could not make my hand grip the pistol and moaned in frustration. The man chuckled again and reached toward my service weapon. He nonchalantly plucked it from the holster on my hip and placed it in his waistband.

"You won't be needing this, young detective," he said.

He then leaned me forward and pulled my handcuffs from the case in the small of my back. He snapped one of the cuffs tightly around my right wrist, removed my watch from my left wrist and then secured the other cuff tightly. With my hands secured behind my back, he pushed me back into the chair and opened a drawer to the desk I was sitting at. He removed a roll of silver duct tape and knelt in front of me. He placed my feet together and wrapped a liberal amount of the tape around my ankles. When my ankles were bound tight, he pulled a strip off the role and placed it over my mouth. He wrapped the tape around the lower portion of my head effectively gagging me.

He placed the tape on the desk, turned to me and said, "The ketamine will probably wear off in an hour and a half or so. Therefore, I need to ensure you're not going anywhere before I get back."

He grabbed me under my armpits and easily lifted me out of the chair. He placed me on the carpeted floor on my back with my cuffed hands under my body. He pulled my gun from his waistband, bent down and placed it back in the holster on my right hip. Then he stood up, pulled a cellphone from his jeans pocket and took several pictures of me from different angles. Then he rolled me onto my stomach and took several more pictures before he removed the handgun again and shoved it back in his waistband.

"Need the gun in the pictures," he said. "you have your badge on your belt but the gun just makes people know that you're really a cop when they see it."

He squatted down next to me and removed my badge from my belt and took the two spare ammo magazines that were in a pouch on the left side of my waist. The man had now removed all of my equipment. He then searched the pockets in my khakis and took my wallet, cellphone and car keys. My red polo had no pockets, but the man searched there to unsure I did not have anything hidden.

Done with the thorough search, he looked into my watery eyes and said, "I'm going to take your car and leave it in a place very far from here. Then, I'll Uber back. I should be back before the Special K wears off, but if I don't, I want you to stay here as my guest."

He grabbed my bound ankles and dragged me across the room, into the hallway and through an open door. With the apparent high dose of ketamine in my system, I could not offer the slightest bit of resistance. The room was bland from what I could see. Probably a spare bedroom, and there was nothing on the walls.

The man said, "I think you'll be more comfortable in here, Detective Ryan. When I get back, I'll explain what's going to happen to you. I know the suspense is driving you batty but trust me...it's worth the wait."

With that, he turned the lights off and walked out of the room. I heard the door close and then heard a lock engaging. I was bathed in darkness but could hear the man walking down the corridor. In less than a minute, there was nothing but utter silence. There was no light filtering in from under the door and no other ambient light illuminated my surroundings. The only thing I could hear was the air conditioning quietly blowing through the vent on the ceiling directly above me.

I have no idea how long I was lying there but slowly my head began to clear. I began to notice I could control my body a little and was able to roll onto my side. I tried to yell for help but the gag ensured nothing but a weak, feeble mmmpphh.

After a while longer, I felt better and was able to bend my ankles back toward my handcuffed wrists. I tried to tear the tape around my ankles but was unable to make a dent in it. My captor had wrapped so much tape around my ankles that it was like iron. I pulled at the cuffs and tried to squeeze one of my hands free, but they were ratchetted down too tight.

Knowing I was not getting free anytime soon, I looked around the room I was in currently. My eyes were no longer unfocused and my eyes had adjusted to the darkness, but it was still difficult to make out my surroundings.

I laid there in the dark room for what seemed like hours when I heard the sound of someone walking along the hallway outside the door. I heard the lock disengage and the door opened. The lights popped on and I closed my eyes until I could let them adjust to the sudden brightness.

The man walked in and squatted next to my prone figure. He still had my handgun in the front of his waistband and was holding a black gym bag in his left hand. He dropped the bag on the floor next to me.

"Sorry I took so long, Detective Ryan," he said. "I took you police car to the address you had on your driver's license and had to ensure no one was out and saw me. After that I walked out of your neighborhood and called for an Uber. I see that the ketamine has worn off."

I could not reply or comment. I could only look at my captor with a mixture of fear and dread.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I'm doing this," he said. "I'll explain in a few minutes. First, I need to get you ready."

Before I could even begin to think about what he meant, he rolled me onto my back and made me sit up. He removed my shoes and then reached into the black bag and pulled out a pair of heavy-duty scissors. He cut the duct tape around my ankles and pulled it free from my ankles. He forced me to a standing position and turned me to face him.

With a firm grip on my right upper arm, he said, "Don't get cute and don't do anything you'll regret. Remember, I still have your gun and I won't hesitate to use it on you. Do I make myself abundantly clear?"

Knowing I was at a huge disadvantage, I simply nodded.

Without saying anything else, he unfastened my belt, undid the button and fly in my khakis and let them drop to the floor. He then pulled my boxer briefs down as well. He had me step out of the discarded clothing and then removed my socks. He grabbed the scissors again and began cutting away at my polo. With a minute, my shirt was in tatters and I stood before him completely naked.

I looked around the room for the first time. There was a king size bed with a wrought iron frame and black sheets against the wall. The walls were painted black and there were no windows. He guided me to the bed and had me sit on the side. He pulled the bag closer to him and removed several coils of rope. Without saying anything, he began binding my ankles. When complete, he bound the area just below my knees. When that was done, my legs were inescapably secured. There was no give in the ropes and I was certain I would need those scissors or a knife to get free.

He said, "I like rope the best, but I'm going to keep the handcuffs on you. It's just so fucking hot that you're handcuffed with you own cuffs!"

He used the scissors and cut away the tape that was gagging me. Once the sticky band was removed, I flexed by jaw several times before saying, "Listen, mister, you don't want to do this. My co-workers will come looking for me and there's no way you can get away with this. You need to let me go right now."

The man smiled and reached into the bag again. He pulled out a bottle of water, opened it and put it against my lips. "Thirsty?"

I was incredibly thirsty, but I was thinking about the last bottle of water I had from this man. Almost reading my thoughts, he said, "It's not drugged. I don't need to drug you right now. I have you where I want you."

He began to tip the bottle and I drank greedily until it was all gone. Then he grabbed my dick and made me pee in the bottle. When I was done, he put the cap back on the bottle and dropped it in his bag. He grabbed my socks from the floor and held them to my mouth.

"Open up, Detective Ryan."

"What the hell are you doing..."

He shoved the socks into my mouth and crammed them in to where they filled my mouth completely. He then grabbed the duct tape and reapplied the gag. The socks added much to the gag and I could hardly utter a sound other than a muffled grunt. He picked up all his items, placed them in the bag and retrieved my clothes. He stepped out of the room for a minute and then returned.

Standing at the foot of the bed, my gun still visible in his waistband, he said, "Detective Ryan, what you said to me was not true. I will get away with this and your co-workers will not find you. Trust me. This isn't the first time I've done this. They may come over to the neighborhood, knowing this was one of the last places you were seen, but they will not find you."

I pulled at my handcuffs and that only reinforced what I already knew. I was not getting free without a key.

"Your police car is parked in your driveway," he continued. "Your keys, phone and wallet are disposed of in a storm drain in your neighborhood. No one knows you were at my house and if the police come here, they'll only ask if I saw you. To which, I will say no."

My legs were tied so tight my toes were starting to get numb. No way I was going to wiggle free anytime soon.

"This is what is going to happen to you," he said. "Remember those pictures I took of you while you were drugged on the floor in my computer room? Well, I've posted those on a dark website that appeals to a certain type of people. I'm sure you realize that you are a very attractive man. Young - 28 if I remember your driver license - handsome, in great shape with an athletic body. I'm going to offer you to clients on this site. For a substantial fee, they can do whatever they want to you."

My eyes involuntarily flew wide open and I struggled to free myself.

The man chuckled. "Save your strength, Detective Ryan. You're not getting loose. Like I said, I've done this many times before. You will not get out of this room unless I allow you to leave. Now, you might as well rest because you're gonna be real busy real soon. I looked at those pictures and you looked so hot. A young, hot, stud cop, cuffed with his own cuffs and waiting to be used."

I yelled into the gag, but he ignored me as he turned and walked out of the room. He turned the lights off before he closed and locked the door. I continued to struggle but my efforts were wasted. I tried to get the ropes off my legs but the knots were in the front and I couldn't reach them. After a long period of struggling, I must have passed out or fallen asleep.

I woke to the door opening and the lights coming on. The man walked in and smiled down at me.

"I hope you're enjoying yourself, Detective Ryan. You are a hit. I've gotten so many responses to my posts, and someone is coming over soon. Should be here within the hour."

I again pulled frantically at my restraints but to no avail.

He climbed on the bed and pulled a piece of rope from his back pocket. He bent my feet toward my rump, and quickly and expertly put me in a restrictive hogtie. He climbed off the bed and admired his work.

"I was asked to have you hogtied," he said. "It won't be long now."

After he left, I tried to get free but realized quickly that I was not going to get loose. I laid there on the bed for what seemed like an hour at least. Finally, the door opened again and the man walked in with an older gentleman.

"Here he is," the man said. "As advertised."

The older gentleman had my credentials in his hand and kept looking from my police ID to me on the bed. "This is definitely him but how do I know these aren't fake? How do I know he's a real cop?"

The big man chuckled. "Call 911 and ask if he's real, for all I care. I already have half of your money wired into my account. If you want the hour alone with him, wire the other half or get the fuck out. You're choice. I don't care."

The older guy handed my captor my badge and ID without looking at him and said, "It's a deal."

Then he pulled out his cellphone and made a few swipes. The big man pulled out his phone and smiled.

"Transaction complete," he said with a smile. "You have one hour. Remember, no permanent damage. You break him, you buy him."