Always wise, Jesse said.

A stocky strong-looking woman came in without knocking. She had short gray hair and Oakley sunglasses and seemed, even standing still, to be in a hurry.

Marty, Jenn said, this is my ... friend Jesse Stone. He's the police chief here. Jesse, this is Marty Freeman, my producer.

Stone? Marty said. Same name as yours.

We used to be married, Jenn said.

Nice to meet you, Marty said. Come on, Jenn, got to use all the light we can.

Jenn was in full makeup. She kissed Jesse, very carefully, on the mouth, and went out after Marty. Jesse watched as she went away. She had on a dark blue top and white pants, and expensive sneakers. Very yacht-y. The pants fit her well, and Jesse watched her backside twitch as she walked away. He was seeing her sexually again. Was he supposed to? Christ, who wouldn't see her sexually? He looked around the small dressing room. There was a small closet with several changes of clothes. He could smell her perfume. He knew that when she took a shower and toweled off, she would spray scent in the air and walk into it naked. He wondered how many other men knew that. He imagined them watching her, as he had. A group of them. Faceless, nameless, somehow triumphant. Laughing and elbowing each other like players in a bad farce. She smiled at them. Soon she'd have sex with them. He could hear himself breathing. That's it, he thought. That's the bastard. I don't know what it is yet, but it's not love.

He looked at himself in the mirror. His face looked ordinary, the way it always looked. He spoke to the image in the mirror.

Man, he heard himself say. I need a drink.

Chapter 13.

Everybody's in the squad room, Molly said. Alert and ready to examine evidence. Video come in from Fort Lauderdale? Jesse said.

How'd you guess?

Male intuition, Jesse said. Who's in the cars? Martin and Friedman, Molly said. Not happy. And the other eight members of Paradise's finest?

In the squad room, Molly said. Waiting for you. Probably sent out for popcorn.

You want to watch it?

I'm a cop, Molly said. I need to see it, I'll see it.

You don't need to see it with eight lecherous loudmouths, Jesse said. Stay on the desk. There's something you need to see, you can watch it alone later.

Molly was silent for a moment.

I'm part of the department, Jesse, Molly said softly. I don't want everyone else to know something I don't know. Jesse said, Somebody has to be on the desk, Moll.

She nodded. Jesse turned toward the squad room. I'll watch it later, Molly said.

Absolutely, Jesse said. You can use the VCR in my office.

Molly was silent for another moment. Then, just as Jesse was opening the door to the squad room, she said, Thank you.

Jesse said, You're welcome, and went in.

The cops were gathered at the long table. The VCR and monitor, which were on a small metal cart, had been wheeled into position at the foot of the table. The screen was glowing. Jesse's chair at the head of the table was empty, and in front of it was the padded mailer from Kelly Cruz. All of the cops were drinking coffee and someone had brought a cup for Jesse. He peeled the lid off as he sat down.

No Jujubes? Jesse said.

We was going to get a keg of beer, Suitcase Simpson said. But we figured you'd be prudish about it.

Remember, the woman in this tape is dead, Jesse said, and she may be the victim of a crime. We are looking at evidence. Try to notice something other than her snatch.

Somebody said, Yes sir!

Jesse opened the mailer, took the cassette down to the other end of the table, put it in the VCR, picked up the remote, walked back to his chair, sat down and pointed the remote at the VCR.

To serve and protect, he said and clicked PLAY.

There was a naked woman, shot from behind. She was having sex with a man who lay on his back beneath her on a bed, or sofa, or something with a blue-and-yellow stripe. As the camera watched, another man walked into the shot and mounted her.

The cops around the table cheered. Simpson was the youngest of them.

Jesus, he said. Front and back.

The woman turned, sandwiched between the two men, and smiled widely at the camera. It was clearly Florence Horvath. She was a lot better-looking than her license photo. Jesse smiled to himself without pleasure, Or any other time I've seen her. Clearly she wanted to be recognized. She kept looking back at the camera as she enjoyed her double penetration, which enjoyment she was at pains to display. Jesse didn't enjoy it much. I can't define pornography, he thought. But I know it when I see it, and pro or amateur, this is it.

After about two minutes' running time, the cops began to talk. Pornography gets boring quick, Jesse thought.

Between wives, Arthur Angstrom said, I used to date a woman, wanted me to bring a friend. I told her I could never get it up with another guy involved.

I heard you couldn't get it up anyway, Arthur, Peter Perkins said.

Give you a list of satisfied customer, you want, Arthur said.

Look at the weapon on that guy, Buddy Hall said. Jesus, Suitcase said, if that's a penis, what am I walking around with?

The film ended after about eight minutes with Florence apparently having an historic orgasm while the cops laughed and bantered. Jesse wondered if the banter covered any discomfort. He didn't enjoy porn very much. But he didn't mind it much unless it was gross. Jesse had always thought heterosexual anal sex verged on gross. Nothing in Florence's home movie had changed his mind about that.

Didn't see any clues, Peter Perkins said. Maybe we should play it more.

Did you look at the guys? Jesse said.

Nobody said anything.

Okay, we'll run it again,Jesse said.

Around the table the cops groaned. Perkins had been kidding. Most of them were bored with it already.

Look at the guys, this time, Jesse said. Maybe we'll see one again.

Jesse rewound the tape. And rolled it. The cops watched again, looking at the men. Jesse noticed they were quieter. Less uncomfortable, maybe. Jesse looked, too. There was nothing in the film to tell him where it was shot. Just a bedroom. Or at least a place with a bed. There was a hint of decorative brass. The room looked small. Could be a boat.

When the tape had finished, Jesse said, Okay, Peter, you're the evidence specialist. Take the tape and get some head shots made of the guys. May as well get one of Florence, too. It's better than her license photo.

Guys at the lab will love this, Perkins said.

Just make sure it comes back, Jesse said.

You don't think they'll make a dupe?

Of course they will, Jesse said. But I want the original in our case folder.

Yessir.

Perkins started to remove the tape from the VCR. Leave it, Jesse said. I'll give it to you after lunch. Gotta look for more clues, Jesse?

Chief Jesse to you, pal. Go relieve Molly on the desk. Tell her I want to see her in my office.

Perkins saluted and the cops filed out. Jesse took the tape and went in his office. In a moment Molly came in. Jesse put the tape into the office VCR.

You know how to run this? Jesse said.

No.

Okay, I'll start it and leave.

Molly nodded. Jesse punched up the tape and went out. He closed the office door behind him and leaned on the wall near it. He smiled to himself. Porn guard.

When Molly came out she said, That was disgusting.

Yes, Jesse said. It was.

Did the guys like it?

Jesse shrugged.

They pretended to. In fact, I think they probably found it a little disgusting, too.

Did you?

Yes.

You going to get head shots made?

Peter Perkins is going to take care of it, Jesse said. Molly nodded. Thanks for letting me watch it alone, she said.

Jesse shrugged.

You're a nicer guy than most people know, Molly said. Jesse smiled at her. Let's not let that get around, he said.

Chapter 14.

When Jesse went to meet Jenn for lunch she was finishing a long Steadicam walk- and-talk the length of the town pier with the sail-dappled harbor in the background. Jesse walked down and stopped beside Marty the producer. She picked up a pair of earphones that were hanging on the back of a folding chair and handed them to Jesse. He put them on. He could hear Jenn.

What draws them here, she was saying. What brings them from all over the Atlantic coast to converge here ... in Paradise ... for Race Week.

The director who had been staring at the monitor yelled Cut. And as Jenn looked up at him with her hands on her hips, he yelled, Keeper. Jenn nodded as if to say It better be, and came up the dock toward Jesse. He applauded silently as she came. When she reached him, Jenn kissed him.

I smell Emmy, Jesse said.

You smell something, Jenn said and took his hand. I'm sick of the Gull. Is there someplace else? Quick? Good?

We could walk up to Daisy's, Jesse said. They bake all their own bread.

Let's, Jenn said.

So what does draw them? Jesse said as they walked up Washington Street. Top-flight police work?

Probably that, Jenn said. And a full month of booze and sex.

Anybody sail? Jesse said.

Not in the evening, Jenn said. I mean, wow! Like Mardi Gras.

For us, it's mostly fights and public urination and vandalism, Jesse said.

Boy, Jenn said, just like Mardi Gras.

What's up this afternoon? Jesse said.

I'm off a couple hours, Jenn said. Marty and Jake are going out and get B roll of the races.

Without you?

In a helicopter.

Without you, Jesse said.

The crowd on the streets, even at midday, was thick and boisterous. The range of dress was extreme. Horizontal-striped shirts were popular, with three-quarter-length white canvas pants. There were a lot of women in big hats and gauzy dresses. Men in blazers and white flannels. Some of the crowd looked like eighteenth-century sailors. Some of them looked like they were at Churchill Downs. Jesse wore jeans and a blue short-sleeved oxford shirt. He had his gun and badge on his belt. Two young men and two young women, all in tank tops and cutoff jeans, were walking along carrying open bottles of beer. Jesse pointed at his badge, then at the beer, then, with his thumb, at a trash container chained to the lamppost. They looked like they wanted to argue, but none of them did. They dropped the beer into the trash and moved away.

Zero tolerance, Jesse said.

Egad, Jenn said at Daisy's door. Maybe we should have gone to the Gull.

The door was open and the line of people waiting was out onto the sidewalk.