Free Cut and Run by Donn Cortez Page B

the AV lab. Cooper pulled an office chair on wheels up to a large monitor and motioned Natalia to sit down. He stayed standing, but leaned over to tap on the keyboard to one side of the screen.
    â€œOkay. Now, this was apparently shot in a Miami nightclub called Morrocko. They have private VIP booths in the back, sort of semisecluded—private enough that the public can’t get at the celebrities to bother them, but exposed enough that people can see that yes, they are actually in the same room as someone rich and famous.”
    Natalia studied the screen. There was a shot of a booth, with a long table and a curving, black leather bench seat behind it. She recognized Marssai Guardon as the one sitting in the middle, with an attractive woman on one side and a handsome, male-model type on the other. They were drinking something out of oversize martini glasses, laughing and talking about some movie premiere.
    â€œSo far,” said Cooper, “all nice and innocent. Then Mister Two-Hundred-Dollar Haircut slides under the table…”
    â€œHmmm. Oh, my.”
    â€œYeah.” Cooper tapped a key and the image froze. “Now, what’s the first and most obvious question about this little scenario?”
    Natalia grinned and raised her eyebrows. “You mean besides, ‘Where can I get one of those?’ Who’s filming it, of course.”
    â€œExactly. The picture doesn’t jump around the way something handheld would, so the camera was in a fixed position. There are different theories as to where—some think a camera was hidden in a nearby planter, others say a rigged dessert cart was carefully positioned—but I’m going to go out on a limb and say it was a good old-fashioned tripod.”
    â€œWhat, behind a mirror or something?”
    Cooper leaned back and crossed his arms. “Nope. Right out in plain sight.”
    Natalia frowned. “You’re saying this was staged. Everybody involved knew exactly what they were doing the whole time.”
    â€œI’d bet on it. See, everything below the table is X-rated, but everything above the table is strictly PG-13. Well, maybe Restricted—Marssai and her girlfriend play a little tonsil hockey at one point.”
    â€œSo? The other people in the club can’t see what’s going on beneath the table, right? All they see is Marssai doing her When Harry Met Sally Meg Ryan impression.”
    â€œAnd that’s the impression they’re trying to give—that they’re doing something naughty right out in public. Did you know they charge five hundred dollars to eat in that booth now?”
    â€œI’ll resist the urge to ask what’s on the menu.”
    â€œIn this case,” said Cooper, “a great big serving of body double.” He leaned over and tapped the monitor’s screen, right at the thin edge of the table. “This isn’t a single piece of footage. It’s two pieces, carefully edited together. In one, Marssai Guardon and her female friend sit down, have a drink, and make out a little before Marssai fakes an orgasm. In the other, Haircut Guy sits at the same table with someone else. When he goes…downtown, it’s not Marssai Guardon he’s expressing his affection for.”
    â€œHow can you tell? That it’s a fake, I mean?”
    â€œIf you’re referring to the recording itself, I’d love to be able to dazzle you with a highly technical explanation…but I don’t have one. No, two things tipped me off, both of them fairly mundane.” He tapped at the keyboard, zooming in on one sector of the image. “First, I noticed that Marssai doesn’t move her upper body at all during the scene—that’s to keep her positioned so the double can match her exactly.”
    â€œYeah, her posture is a little weird—even when she’s making out with the other girl she doesn’t lean over.”
    â€œThe second thing was her