Alternate Reality

"So, you admit that you raped at least one of the girls? The one called Melody?"

"Melody? You mean Mel? No, I didn't. I was... "

"According to your own account, you raped and sodomised the girl three times! Or are you saying that you were lying?"

"No, I... you see, she was not lucid and I... we decided to..."

"So, according to you, on all three occasions, she wasn't lucid? Is that right?"

"Yes, you see, that's why I..."

"You do know, of course, that when you fuck a girl who's unable to say 'no', that's still considered rape over here?"

"Yes. Well, look, I had to because..."

"You HAD to? OK, let's go along with this... so you HAD to rape and sodomise her to get her to 'wake up' eh?"

"Yes, but that's why Venus and Angie... they..."

"Oh yes, I forgot. You DIDN'T want to do it, but they encouraged you to do it. And according to you, they HELPED you along, did they?"

"Will you let me finish? Yes, that's what they did..."

"Mikhail, are you telling me that not only did you not rape the girl Melody, the other two girls -- let's see -- Vanessa and Andie, they were in on it too? What was in it for them?"

"Mike! My name is Mike! And the girls' names were..."

"OK... Mike... let's focus on the question here. So tell me, what was it you did to them to make them so compliant?"

"Make them compliant?"

"Yes. You're a lecturer, not a gardener, right? So you know what compliant means, don't you?"

"Of course I do. I did nothing to Venus and Angie. Venus and Angie, that's their names. Not what you're calling them."

"So the girls went along with your scheme to sexually assault the girl Melody then?"

"Melanie. We called her Mel for short. Yes. No. I mean, they..."

"Listen to me PROFESSOR. Given me a logical explanation for why two university students would assist or participate in a plot to rape and sodomise their classmate? Especially when one of them is supposedly the best friend of the victim?"

"That's just it. You're not listening. No, you're not. I told you what happened. I told you about the alternate plane..."

"Blah blah de blah. You listen to yourself PROFESSOR, and you tell me right now that what you've said makes sense."

"I know it... but it's true. I swear..."

"I'm just about ready to swear too, Mikhail. Yes, that's your name. You've never been known as Mike to any one of your colleagues or friends. You wanna know what I think, fella? I think you're just playing this up so you can cop an insanity plea to get off the charges we're gonna press on you. Well, I'm not buying that!"

A fist thumped on the heavy wooden table.

"Look, I know it sounds crazy but it's the truth. Test me!"

"Hahahaha! That's rich, that! Hey, I know that polygraphs can be manipulated. I'm no dumb beat cop, so don't try that on me."

"Fuck, if you won't listen..."

"FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! I don't know what you've done to the girls' bodies, but I have your recorded statement right here where you admit fucking them on several occasions! And the judge and jury are gonna have a hard time believing that you're such a hot lover they each willingly had sex with you! You're just a gardener, you fuck! And you're gonna tell me just what it was you did with their bodies!"

"No point me talking, right? You seem to have all the answers, you tell me!"

There was a sound of a loud slap, followed by something heavy falling and bumping against the table.

"You fucking smart mouth. I'm gonna get you, you hear? You think you're smart enough to beat this rap? You think that crazy story's enough to get you off? You just wait and see!"

--------------------------------------------------

"So what do you think, doc?" the detective asked her as she looked at the ongoing interrogation. She tapped her pen against her lips as she assessed the situation.

"I'm not sure violence will help at all," Christina said as she watched the detective hit the man again. "Why don't you just stop that and let me work on him?"

"Sure thing," the detective smirked. "You're the doc after all."

Christina smiled. She was used to being called "Doc" or "Dr C" by the detectives who worked with her. As the youngest ever forensic psychologist assigned to the police department, she had faced much resistance to her appointment, but with time and an impressive number of highly accurate assessments of criminal behaviour, her status had risen in the detectives' eyes. Because many of the detectives were older than her, they had finally settled on the honorific title "Doctor" to show their respect.

Of course, her looks worked against her as well. Christina was of average height, fit from regular visits to the gym, and had a "figure to die for", according to all her ex-boyfriends (and some of her less-envious girlfriends). She wasn't inordinately proud of her creamy white complexion or her rather large breasts that had the men drooling all over her whenever she wore any off-shoulder or more revealing blouses, nor was she too concerned that more than equal attention was often paid to her small waist and her shapely buttocks and well-defined legs.

"Drop-dead gorgeous" and "visual masterpiece" were phrases often heard in reference to Dr C, in equal measure with less complimentary phrases like "cock tease" and "frigid lesbian". She knew that her looks worked against her more than they did for her -- most guys expected women like her to be bimbos, or to put out the moment they asked her for dinner.

Which was why she hadn't been inclined to engage in anything other than professional relationships since she broke up with her last boyfriend 4 years ago. Being considered "hot" by many was no guarantee her boyfriend would be faithful, she had found out when she bumped into him and his new paramour in a fancy restaurant. To make things worse, the woman he was with was, well... plain.

That was when she concluded that the sole motivation for men wasn't beauty but sex. It was a startling revelation for her, after several days of shutting herself up in her room and crying. But it was a good lesson for her too, and it helped shape her dealings with men thereafter.

No boyfriends and a reputation for being cool and sexy was what drove the men around her wild, she found... and engendered her reputation for being the said cocktease and a frigid lesbian.

That second myth could not be further from the truth, she had thought to herself when she first heard about it. Like any young woman her age, Christina had a healthy sexual appetite. She loved sexy underwear and wore lace undies because they made her feel sexy, but not because she was planning for someone to see her in them. She just didn't see the point in trusting another man when so many of them had shown themselves to be shallow, self-serving, sex-hunting animals. As for the lesbian part, she had never tried doing it with another woman too, so she thought it pretty ironic that the men were saying these things about her, Sour grapes, that's what it was.

She smiled because she knew why the detective had smirked at her. He was relatively new to the force, and had joined the special crimes unit only recently. Just like every other guy who joined the department, his clumsy attempts at wooing her made her laugh as much as it irritated her. No class, no technique, and worst of all, he was just too focused on bedding her. She could see it in his eyes.

"Detective Bryan, isn't it?" she asked lightly. The turnover in the department had been astronomical in recent months, and it had been a struggle to remember all the new names, never mind connect them to the new faces. What she would give to go back to when life was simpler, she thought to herself, when all the old detectives were mostly father figures to her, and not lechers hoping for a quick lay. "Can you get that guy out of there?" she pointed to the detective who was still slapping the suspect. "I'd like to speak to the suspect alone."

"Are you sure that's a good idea, doc?" the detective was still smirking. "We've got him in here for rape, sodomy and god knows what else. Being alone with him in that room..."

"Which is secured and within a police station," she cut in. "I think I can handle a guy who's handcuffed, detective."

"Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to suggest..." he apologised as he realised he had impugned her professional abilities. "Well, I just meant to say you might need some protection..."

"From you, more likely," she thought to herself as she replied: "That won't be necessary, detective. I've had to deal with far more dangerous types than this guy before."

"OK then. I'll be just outside if you need me," he volunteered, before turning and heading into the interrogation room to get the other detective to step out. She smiled again. "Oh, my hero!" Christina thought to herself. "At least, that's what he's hoping I'll be thinking. Hahahahaha. It'll be a cold day in hell when I need your help, detective."

She watched as the two detectives walked out of the room. The other one was older, and she'd known him for quite a while now. He took his job seriously... too seriously at times, in her opinion, but he was a good cop. An earnest cop, who was really determined to rid the streets of lawbreakers or "scum", like he liked to call them.

"Are you sure about this, Dr. C?" he said as he came up to her. "I mean, I know you're good, but this guy, he's something else. Firstly, he doesn't admit his name, then he insists that the girls he's referring to have different names..."

"He seems very certain, doesn't he?" she said, biting her lower lip. It was a habit she had kept since she was a child. "Are you sure the names we have are correct?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. The three are on a long list of missing persons from this morning," the detective replied. "The descriptions he gave also match those for Vanessa M, Andie N and Melody G."

"Except that he seemed to get confused over some of the details," she remarked. Her eyes wandered to the lone figure sitting in the room, his head bowed. "I think he started off telling us Vanessa had long hair, and then somewhere in the middle she had short hair. What about skin colour, build? And what about the other victims?"

"According to him, Vanessa was tanned and dark, with long hair and a large build. Andie was small and fair, with short hair and Melody was somewhere between the two, also fair, with long hair to the waist. Most of the descriptions -- skin colour, build -- match, except that Andie wasn't working at the canteen. OK, well, she was, but she was a student of the university temping at one of the stalls."

"He didn't say that she was a student, did he?" she asked. The suspect was still bowed over the table, unmoving. He looked... broken, like someone who was ready to tell the truth. Not like someone who was prepared to brazenly continue to lie. "That's interesting."

"Maybe he didn't know," the older detective suggested. The younger Bryan was hanging back, listening in and waiting to chip in his view. "Maybe he just saw them walking past him everyday and fancied them enough to do the dirty on them. Maybe he got tired of being unnoticed by these objects of his lust that he just snapped one day."

"That's just it," Christina remarked to her colleague. "He's not even willing to admit to being a gardener, never mind his name. That's highly unusual in these types of cases. Did you try asking him about the plants on campus?"

"No, I didn't. He seems to know an awful lot about what goes on in the classrooms though. Maybe he spent a lot of time peering through the class windows. And that theory he had, about alternate planes? That one's a bit surprising coming from a gardener."

"I had a look in his file," Christina admitted. "Nothing in there about any interesting reading habits. In fact, there were no books in his apartment, which makes it unlikely that he was really into this sci-fi stuff and was acting out his fantasies. Oh yes, we should close the gaps in this case: Do we have the results of the DNA tests yet?"

"No, not yet," the detective admitted. "We tested the girls' clothes that we found too, along with... the stuff we found on his cock. Sorry doc!"

"No need, we're all adults here," she smiled. The older ones were still respectful and gentlemanly, to the extent that they would apologise for any uttered vulgarities. "Apart from that, we'll need to close the gap on just whom it is we're talking about. That list of missing persons is long, right?"

"Yeah, it is," the detective understood what she was getting at right away. No substitute for experience in this business. "We went through the list and the most likely persons he was referring to were Vanessa, Andie and Melody. Most of the descriptions fit these three girls too. But you're right... we should get the photofit people in to get their descriptions from him. I'm not sure he'll co-operate, though."

"Well, let me try," Christina said confidently. "I'll get him talking!"

"Sex sells, eh doc?" Bryan piped up from behind the senior detective, who turned around and frowned at him. "Smile at him a little, flirt a little and he'll be singing..."

"Maybe you should stick around and see how a real professional works, kid," he growled at his younger colleague and Christina almost laughed out loud. "Not everybody's mind works the way yours does... in the gutter!"

"It's alright, guys," Christina chipped in, just in case the younger detective decided to get tetchy over being told off in front of her. That had happened too many times to too many people in the recent past. "I'll take over. The video's still on, the door'll be locked, and he's even handcuffed in there."

"I know, Dr C," the older detective looked a little ashamed. "Not quite standard protocol, but we could be dealing with a mass murderer here. Worst part is, we don't know how he did it, what he used, what his motives were and where the bodies have gone to."

"All we have is one naked man, babbling about balling three girls," detective Bryan continued, his confidence unswayed. God, was the man really that thick, or did he think he was impressing her? "What a fucking loser. We ought to go in there and give him everything he did to the girls... and then some!"

The senior detective glared at him again, and didn't say anything. Christina knew he would have some private words with detective Bryan later, when she was out of earshot. Older guys were old-fashioned for sure, and in a very endearing way.

"OK, I'm up next then," Christina declared as she held the file close to her body and started to walk to the interrogation room. She knew that the reality was quite the opposite of what detective Bryan had suggested, that she use her looks to get the suspect to talk. She was careful to not distract him from his story, so that he would focus on what he'd done instead of focusing on her. That was why she was usually dressed so severely, with a prim, buttoned up blouse and knee length skirt under a loose lab coat. No, it would not do to try to distract the suspect at all.

--------------------------------------------------

He didn't even look up when she entered the room. That was not normally something that suggested surrender, of course -- some of the most aggressive, most violent suspects were meek and mild up until something, a word, a name or an action, triggered their rage. The thing about this suspect was, well, he just didn't seem to display any potential for defiance, never mind violence. His demeanour, body language, his language strongly sugggested someone at the end of his tether. Mikhail the university gardener looked far more likely to break down and cry than to turn violent.

"Mike? I can call you Mike, right?" Christina said brightly to him as she walked in. She walked to the chair in front of him, placed the large file she had carried in on the table, then sat down. He was still looking down at the table, although he did nod when she referred to him by his preferred name.

"Hi Mike, my name is Christina," she continued, flipping open the file to where a fresh piece of paper had been attached. This was deliberate -- she wanted him to get the impression that she was willing to listen to him.

"Hi Christina," he said, finally raising his eyes to meet hers. She was struck by the intelligence she saw in them. They were not the eyes of a dullard, nor were they the crazed eyes of a lunatic. Instead, they looked like the eyes of a man who understood many things, about life and the universe. A well-read, reasonable man. "I guess you'd be the psychologist?"

"That's an astute observation, Mike. How did you know? Have you been in trouble with the law before?"

"No, of course not. You'd have my records if I had. I kind of guessed they'd send in the pyschologist after they refused to believe my story."

She laughed. "You have to admit that's quite a story, Mike."

He looked miserable. "I know it sounds fantastic, but that's exactly what happened. You know what's the worst thing? When you're telling the truth and everyone thinks you're lying. And you can tell that to your friend behind the one-way glass over there." He nodded at the mirrored surface behind her.

She took out a pen from her pocket. "You mean Charlie? I'm sorry about that... Charlie is dedicated to a fault. He's determined to eradicate crime from the streets and he's an honest and direct sort of fellow. He's a little too earnest at times, but that's because he really wants to get at the truth."

"And you? That's what you're here for, isn't it?" he gazed at her impassively. "The truth. Well, you've got it all recorded down. The truth, I mean."

"OK, I'm not going to ask you to repeat yourself," she said, switching tack. Her ballpoint pen clicked and the nib peeked out. It descended to the clean sheet of paper, and stopped at the top left hand corner, ready to glide into action with his words. "I just want to clarify some details."

"OK, shoot. Don't worry about me, I've got all the time in the world," he said flippantly, and she laughed. A sense of humour. That's good.

"OK, you've given us a complete account of what happened since you left your apartment this morning. What I'd like to know is: what happened after you..." she flipped a page in the file. "... fucked Vaness... Sorry, Venus. In the pussy."

"I don't know. I honestly don't. All I know is that I found myself standing in an open field, naked. And your guys came running up not too long after."

"Mmm hmmm," she murmured, letting the pen glide over the fresh page. "So the last thing you remember was putting yourself into her vagina, and boom! you're suddenly naked in a field?"

"Yes. No. Actually I don't know," he said, his eyes reflecting his confusion. He was really unsure of the facts, she thought to herself, and noted it down. "I assumed it was Venus. I mean, it was exactly like the image I saw when I first came upon her in the bushes and saw her behind in the other plane. Even my cock... sorry... even that looked like that alien thing that was... that was..."

"Penetrating her," Christina finished the sentence for him. "It's OK, Mike. I appreciate that you're uncomfortable mentioning such words in front of me, but remember that I'm a doctor and I'm an adult. There's nothing you can say that'll embarrass me."

"Yeah, OK, you're right," he muttered. "I can't say for sure, and at the time, I couldn't even tell... but when I saw how my... how it went in and got swallowed up, I... remembered. It could have been Venus, and it probably was her, but I didn't see her face and couldn't hear her voice at all."

"So there was no way of knowing who it was then?" Christina asked. "But you did sodomise her, didn't you?"

"Yes I... like I told you guys, I was paralysed and she..."

"Yes, she offered you her ass. I believe those were your words. What about this Andie... wait, you called her Angie, right? What about her? You had sexual relations with her several times, according to your account. Both in her vagina and her anus."