Memories

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 6. No more memories.

The third week of the investigation started with, well, nothing much. The SIM cards that I photographed at Hotel Aralla were not from any numbers we knew. They were confirmed to be all prepaid cards, and some were not even activated yet. It appeared that after each party the numbers were changed.

I tried to call one of the active numbers. The phone rang, and it was answered.

"Hello?" a male voice answered.

"Good morning. I'm looking for John Smith."

"Sorry, wrong number."

"Oh sorry, bye."

That was just for the fun of it. The number was active all right, and it was answered by a man. That man was likely to be this Sonar character, and now we had a short recording of his voice. You never know when that could be useful.

Next I called Dr Whitewater, about the drugs and a possible antidote Thelma and I could use for Thelma's undercover plan.

"Good morning doctor, have you got any news for me?"

"No, as expected we haven't been able to determine the structure of this drug. The quantity in the blood sample was just too small, sorry about that."

"I see, well if ever I find it pure, you'll get some. Another question, is there anything like an antidote to this type of drugs? Something that prevents it from working when taken in advance?"

"I have to look this up. Many drugs do have an antidote, but it's usually administered afterwards. What do you want with it?"

"Just curious, some inconsistencies in the investigation that this may explain," I lied. I couldn't tell the doctor the real purpose, not yet at least. "Thank you in advance."

The next call was to my old friend Mike Raviola, an expert on all kind of electronics. I invited him over to Hotel Aralla, as I wanted to show the unknown device to him. Maybe he could tell me more about it.

Arriving at the hotel site, Mike was waiting for me already. I quickly led him to the place where I found this mobile phone thing, and showed it to him. He looked surprised.

"I have never seen anything like it before," he said. "This is really interesting. It is custom made, there is not a single identification on the case. To really figure out how it works I'd have to take it down to a lab for analyses."

"That'd alarm Sonar. We don't want that, not yet at least."

"Well at least I'm quite positive that this is what you think it is: a mobile phone repeater. This thing probably takes the calls of all these cards, and forwards them to somewhere else. That may be another telephone, that may be something totally different, like a modified two-way radio."

"Sounds sophisticated."

"And it is. This is not amateur work. This is done by someone who knows what he is doing, and who has the resources to put it together."

"Thanks. That helps."

We carefully replaced everything, not to leave a trace, and left. I knew more than I had but it was still another dead end in my investigation.

The next morning, Tuesday, I received an e-mail from Dr Whitewater.

Mr Jones,

There exists a generic antidote for benzodiazepines, called Flumazenil, which works for most known varieties. However we do not know whether it works for this one, too. It is taken by injection, and typically used to reverse the effect of a benzodiazepine in patients, for example in case of an overdose.

The antidote does not work very long, a few hours at most. The most direct effects wear off in half an hour or even faster, while drugs typically take 20-30 minutes to take effect after having been taken orally. So by the time a benzodiazepine taken orally takes effect, a dose of Flumazenil taken beforehand has lost effectiveness.

Based on this knowledge, it does not seem to be possible to take the antidote before taking the actual drug, and then have the antidote stop the drug from taking effect.

I hope this is the information you were looking for.

Dr Whitewater.

Yes, that was the information I was looking for, thank you Dr Whitewater. Unfortunately it is not the answer I was hoping to get, and it basically means our antidote strategy is dead in the water, and we need an alternative plan.

Over lunch I talked to Julia again, telling her about my latest findings at Hotel Aralla. She told me she had contacted Radar under a presumed male identity, and again had not gotten any real information out of him. When she had asked about how he got the girls so willing to have sex, Radar had denied there were any drugs in the game, claiming that he had just found a bunch of natural sluts who for a little money were happy to open up their bodies.

"And actually that is not a complete make-believe by Radar," Julia explained. "Reading through his chats as Sonar, he is actively searching out women that are interested in sexual adventure, that are at least seriously fantasising about casual sex, and then all he does is take away their inhibitions by using those drugs and there you go, a big orgy. Also, there are women who are willing to do anything for money, which is just another way to take away inhibitions."

I observed, "He could just have hired some hookers indeed. Less hassle, less risk. And that way he could keep a modicum of morality and legality in the whole thing."

"Of course, but that's the easy way. He has this drug, and I believe he is having a lot of fun, especially chatting up those girls on Facebook, so why not combine the two? He's a pretty manipulative man. Sure, he's making money, but I don't think that's his primary motive."

"So it's like a hobby or so?" I asked.

"It seems so. But a pretty sick kind of hobby."

"You think Radar and Sonar are the same individual?"

"Yes, I think they are. Their writing styles are the same. This sounds very much like a one-man operation."

"I see ... Julia, I need your advice on some matter."

"Sure, tell me."

"Well ... a bit hard to tell ... anyway I'm considering to go undercover and be part of one of those parties. To really find out where it is, and hopefully who this Sonar is."

"What?!" she exclaimed, looking at me with big eyes, "You must be kidding. You'll never pass the background checks, and well, it's just immoral. You just can't do that."

"There is a way around the background checks, going together with one of the female guests, as the girls do not need background checks, it'd warn them off, and they're being drugged so don't remember a thing. Actually this is not even my own idea, it's of a friend."

"A girl."

"Yes. She asked me to join her."

"Does she know what's going on there?"

"Yes, everything. She's done her own investigation as well, she works for a newspaper. I promised her the scoop if she would hold off publishing until our investigation is finished."

"That's the one who gave you those contacts, right? You talked to her a lot about this case, didn't you?"

"Yes, we had dinner together discussing the case. Maybe I told a bit too much," I admitted. "Then she suggested to try to get in, and asked me to join as well, afraid to do it alone."

"You can't be serious. Won't you both be drugged, and not remember anything to begin with?"

"That's the problem. I haven't found a way around that yet."

"I see. Do you like her?"

"A lot," I admitted.

"That means you're in love with her, right?"

"No ... no, not in love."

"Sure?"

"No ... no I mean yes ... well ... not sure ... how to tell you're in love?"

"You like her a lot."

"I like you too, but I'm sure I'm not in love with you."

"You get excited thinking about her."

"Yes," I admitted, with a sigh. "Nothing remains hidden from you, does it?"

"It's my job. You got yourself into a difficult situation, I realised that the moment you asked for my advice. Simple advice would be: don't do it. But I know you're not going to accept that, you don't want to let her down. What you really want to know is, how am I going to survive this, right?"

"Right." It is always a bit frustrating to realise someone else knows me better than I know myself.

"So when you just go there, you won't be able to remember what happens most of the evening. I assume at least they'll drug you both, not just her. And in the end you just know what you probably did, without actually remembering it. That's interesting, going to be tricky to deal with that. You discussed that part with her?"

"Of course, she doesn't seem concerned. True journalist, anything to get the scoop."

"And you're the true investigator, anything to crack the case. At least you both know what you're going in to, and you do it together. That should help a lot, if you want to get more serious with her later. I do hope you get results out of it, as otherwise it's going to be a lot harder to deal with."

"We must get results indeed, we've only got one shot at it, and it's a long one. Which is why I want to have our phones bugged, to record that crucial call on where to go, and to have cameras installed in that car park secretly - without anyone, including the car park management, knowing we did. Then even if we lose our memory there will be some record of what happened, and where the party was held."

"Can't you just go there, make that call, and turn around at the door? We'll have a team of officers on stand-by to do the rest of the work for you. They raid the place, and good chance this Sonar is amongst the people there. At the very least there won't be any more such parties."

"Good thinking. That should work just fine, why didn't I think of that. You're my saviour."

She smiled. "By the way, the girl you're talking about, is it that red-haired reporter from the Daily Gazette, what's her name again ... Alderman, isn't it?"

I sighed. "Yes, Thelma Alderman. There is really nothing that remains hidden to you, is there?"

She laughed. "Not entirely true, I knew only when you mentioned it's about a journalist, and then she's the only candidate that I can think of."

"How come you know her?"

"She interviewed me a few times for her paper, and about a year ago I met her at a reception, that was detective Frank Rossmann's retirement. I remember the conversation well, she asked whether we're a couple." She laughed. "So funny. She was really interested to hear you're single. That's how I know she has interest in you."

My heart started to beat a little faster. So Thelma was really interested in me as a person, more than just to get information out of me. And apparently she's single herself.

"How come she thought you and me are a couple?" I asked.

"No idea. You hardly ever see us together, there is absolutely no flirting or any chemistry between us, so really no idea how she could possibly get that idea."

"OK, OK, I got your point," I said, laughing. "I'll behave myself from now on."

"You've behaved yourself just fine so far, no need to change that."

Immediately after lunch I called Thelma. She answered the phone, and without any further introduction I said, "OK, let's go for it."

"Are you sure?" she replied after a few seconds.

"Yes."

"How about the drugs?"

"I got some solutions for you. Actually I was hoping you would invite me for dinner tonight so we can discuss the whole thing in more detail."

She was silent for a moment, then laughed. "You got me there. OK, see you at Macy's tonight."

Now what had I gotten myself into. This was going to be tricky to pull off, not letting them know what's up until we're at the door. At least I would have the backing of my colleagues.

That night at Macy's we had our familiar private corner. Thelma revealed that she had made contact with Sonar already. "I'm using my pseudonymous account, that name is Louise Gardner. It's actually quite -"

"Thelma and Louise, huh?" I interrupted her.

"Yes ... As I said, it's quite fun talking to the guy. He's really a flirt, and he's good at it."

"I should have a word with him, learn some tricks of the trade."

Thelma looked at me disapprovingly for a moment, then continued, "This weekend there is another party, and I'm allowed to bring a male guest."

She had it all arranged already. She was fully intent on joining a sex party with me, the consequences be damned. And one way or another she fully trusted me to be able to track down where the party was being held, and possibly even remember something of it.

Time to break the big news to her, "We're not going to join the party."

"But -"

"We're still going there, we're just not going to join. We're going to the door, and then back off."

"But why? And how are we going to make sure that I get my scoop and you get your case cracked?"

"There may be an antidote to the drug they use there, but we can not test it, and the effects of the antidote wear off quickly, in like half an hour most of the effect is gone. That's before the effects of the other drug really start taking effect. It's pretty useless for us, so no way we're going to remember anything of it. We'd end up just like the women we interviewed."

"I see," she said. She sounded disappointed.

"So what we're going to do, is go there, call that Sonar, see where he sends us, turn around at the door, and let my colleagues do the rest. We'll have our phones bugged, and also I want to have some cameras installed secretly in the car park to monitor our movements. Possibly even have a small tracking device sewn in my clothes. So back at the station they can see what's going on."

Thelma reluctantly agreed, then added, "But you must give me full disclosure of whatever you find during the raid."

"As much as legally possible," I promised.

She leaned forward a bit, and looked me straight in the eyes. With a soft, seductive voice she said, "Weren't you secretly looking forward to be at that party with me, to get to do, well, you know, what they do there, with me?"

I was shocked by her direct question, and had no idea how to answer it. Of course I had been thinking about just that, ever since she made her proposal to me. And getting to do it with her, well that'd be one of the best parts of that party for me, if only I could remember it. However I also didn't know how I'd look her in the eye afterwards.

She just looked at me with that questioning look on her face, and I was just sitting there. I started to feel hot, my face must have been turning red.

"What could I say? Yes, I totally want to fuck you? Or no, it's not like that, I don't want you at all?"

This is just that kind of question that has no possible answer that wouldn't likely result in me getting a kick in my nuts. I was suddenly sweating, my whole skin felt a bit wet, my clothes suddenly stuck to my body. My throat dry, I was totally lost for words. I was just sitting there, looking back at her, petrified.

She smiled, breaking the stand-off. "A simple yes would do, no need to sweat about it."

I was just sitting there, still a bit stunned.

"Relax, just teasing you."

I started to breathe again. "I see."

She laughed at me, taking obvious pleasure in my discomfort. I sighed.

"Well, so that's settled then," I concluded, trying to get back some initiative. "I'm going to ask some colleagues to secretly set up some cameras and have our phones bugged. You make sure you have the invitation complete."

"He said he'd contact me a few days before the party with further details, so that should be tomorrow or day after tomorrow."

That night I barely slept. There was just too much to think about. My chat with Julia, the dinner with Thelma, my brain was a mess. There was no denial now, I had fallen in love with Thelma. She worked hard for that, too.

The Friday of the party finally came. We made the necessary preparations. Cameras had been installed covertly a few days earlier, and the bugs on our phones were activated. All calls to and from Thelma and me would now be monitored. Thelma and I left in her car to have dinner, and after that we'd be off to the party.

And that is pretty much where my memories end.

The next thing I remember is waking up in a vaguely familiar car. I looked next to me, and saw a naked body. My mind was not registering it well, and my eyes only slowly got better. After a while I realised I was in Thelma's car, and that she was the one sitting next to me in the car, naked. It slowly registered that I was just as naked as she was.

As I looked at her, she also slowly opened her eyes. "Hi," she said.

"What happened?"

"I don't know ... where are we?"

"In your car."

"I know that part," she says crankily. "In my car. Where are our clothes? What happened?"

Neither of us seemed to remember anything of what happened the night before, and it took a while for both of us to be thinking clear enough to have our current situation register properly.

Thelma moved a hand in between her legs. "I'm a little sore down here," she complained. "I really don't remember anything of what happened."

We both looked at the wall in front of the car, ashamed, not wanting to look at one another. I noticed a paper on the dashboard, and picked it up. It contained a short printed message, I read it aloud.

Dear Mr Detective and Ms Journalist,

It was a great pleasure having you around at my final party. It was a blast. Thank you so much for joining us.

I like to make photos at my party, but not if other people try to do likewise. Your video cameras are in the trunk. It also seems you had some friends come over that I did not invite. Unfortunately for them they went to the wrong shop. Glad they did not disturb our fun.

Yours sincerely,

Radar and Sonar.

I put down the letter as the whole situation slowly started to become clear. We had failed, they had won, and on so many fronts. The cameras had failed. The raid had failed. We had failed to turn around at the door, as we had planned.

I looked at Julia, she looked at me. I saw the shock on her face, she must have seen the same on mine. We both quickly looked straight ahead, shocked and ashamed.

"Did we ..." I started.

"You think we ..."

"I have no idea what happened."

"I also don't remember anything of last night," she admitted.

"Maybe it's better like this. Some things you don't want to remember, or know."

"Agreed."

We were silent for a moment, contemplating what to do.

"I love you," I said in a flat voice, still looking at the wall in front of the car.

"I love you too," she replied matter-of-factly.

We then looked at each other, and smiled.

"Do you have some blankets or so in your car so we can at least cover up a bit?"

* * * * * * *

Epilogue.

One way or another our carefully set up plan failed. Sonar knew about the cameras, he knew who we were, and he tricked us somehow into getting through the door, and managed to get us drugged.

How? We never found out.

The plan started off perfectly. The cameras worked fine, recording the occasional passer-by and showing the restocking of one of the shops. Shortly past eight that evening we called the number Sonar had given on Facebook, and introduced ourselves. We were then told to go to a unit two floors up from where the car was parked.