It's a few weeks before high school graduation. My old man left when I was 12. My Mom worked very hard and raised me, by herself, until a few weeks back, just after I turned 18-years-old. Mom then leaves town with some guy. Well, I have a job looking after the Lindsey's place, so I have somewhere to stay and I'm getting paid enough to get by, so it's no problem. When I finish up at the Lindsey's, Mom has found an old friend of hers, in another city, who'll hire me and train me to repair automatic transmissions. Mom didn't really abandon me but she did look out for herself and I don't blame her at all. (Someday, I may track down the old man and I do blame him.)

My plan is to wait for the Lindseys to get back, kick Ronny's ass once and for all, take all of his money and bling bling, then just disappear.

One day Deputy Dawg and his buddy grab me and haul my ass down to the Police station; none too gently. (There are laws that govern such conduct. However, I doubt that Deputy Dawg can read and his buddy is a total idiot.)

The dynamic duo march my ass into a room. There are seven men in the room, all town big shots. The Chief shoves a fan of 8x10 photos in my face and asks, "What do you know about these, boy? Don't try to tell me nothing. I got a witness who says you're involved."

The photos feature the Mayor's daughter. She's nude and some of the photos are sex action shots.

I see that I'm in big trouble. Likely the witness is Ronny, my old nemesis. Now, if I had paid attention back in school, likely I would have gotten myself beat to death, right there. Fortunately I spent my school time learning to think, instead of memorizing history dates and poetry. I tell the people, "I had nothing to do with the photographs, which I can prove, given the chance."

The Chief looks at me like death, "You better be able to prove it, boy! You're in deep trouble here."

I'm fighting for my life here and I start my fight by saying, "In a presentation in one of my classes, a guy told us about his hobby of photography. I listened and learned. Point out the shadows in any of the photos that you just showed me."

One single thought runs through the minds of the men in the room: "HuuuHHH?"

The Chief stops dead and then turns and looks at the photos. He then turns back, glares at me and says, "There are no shadows in any of the pictures."

I lecture the Chief. "Then whoever shot the photos had to have professional lighting help. To completely eliminate shadows, you need professional lights and somebody trained to use them. I can't do that and I sure as hell can't afford to hire a lighting pro."

I then see that the men in the room are now listening to me and I say, "Look at the pictures, all of the pictures. Show me the thumb over the lens, the bedpost growing out of the girl's head, the out of focus parts."

Of course, there are no such things in the photos, even after very close examination.

I continue smoothly, "Then, whoever took the shots was a pro photographer. I'm not a pro photographer and I sure as hell couldn't afford to hire a pro."

The Chief looks back in my face and I, once again, see death. He snarls, "Boy, I think you know who took these shots. I want to know who."

I quietly tell the Chief, "I don't know who took the photos, but I know how to find out. However, the less people who know, the better."

After some whispered discussion, the rest of the guys leave and the Chief and I are left alone.

The Chief looks at me. His expression isn't at all friendly.

I have very little room for error here. I start my explanation, "There are probably thousands of people who are capable of taking the pictures. Some of the girls in town doubtless like to show themselves off, even to the extent of nude photos. However, a girl wouldn't want to drive a long way to take such photos. It would take too much time and planning. Also, the girl would have to hear about the service. Thus, the picture taker is local. There are, maybe a dozen local photographers who could take the professional pictures you showed me. However, if you carefully examine the photos, the developing is first class work. The colors are bright and true. There are no bubbles or smears in the prints. Thus, whoever developed the photos was a pro. The average commercial service won't develop such photos. That means, the guilty picture taker has his own developing lab. There are only two developing labs near here. One of them is owned by a devout Mormon who doesn't hire guys who'll develop such pictures. By elimination, the other guy is the culprit."

The Chief thinks this over for a bit. He then asks me, "Do you know who the guilty party is related to?"

I tell the Chief, "Yes I do." Since I have the Chief's attention, I then quickly ask, "Chief, do you know who installed the studio security system for the guilty party's photo operation?"

The Chief thinks for a moment again and then says, "Some big out of town firm. I don't remember the name."

I lecture, "Yes it was a big out of town firm and, to keep costs down, the big firm hired some local high school students, on the cheap. I was one of the budget workers. I can get into the photo studio without getting caught. The problem is that I don't know where the photos would be kept, once I do get in."

The Chief thinks things over for a few moments and then says, "There's a big floor safe in the place. It's solid steel and very secure, unless you know the combination. Fortunately, the man who had the safe installed gave me the combination back when he got real sick. After the man died, the place was leased to the photographer. I still have the combination! If you can get inside the photographer's studio, I can give you the combination to get into the safe. But, how do you plan to break in?"

I lecture the Chief, "I don't plan to break in, because I don't need to. They have a janitor service which does all of the places in the row of businesses that includes the studio. The janitors block open a back door when they work in a place, so they can toss out wash water and such."

The Chief thinks for a bit and then asks, "What if you get caught?"

"I'll have a manila folder full of photographs with me. The photographs you have. I'm just delivering a package of photos. If I don't get caught, I go up, into the overhead. I know how to beat the alarm system that I helped install. I wait for the janitors to leave, I disable the alarm system, I come down fro the overhead, open the safe and get the nasty pictures, I go back up and re-enable the alarm system then I exit clean, since there's a time lapse before the alarm system actually comes on."

The Chief says, "Then you bring the pictures back here."

I sigh, "No, that won't work. If you have the pictures, you get way too involved. Instead, I contact the lady in a picture directly. The lady will know some of the other ladies, the other ladies will know more ladies. The ladies will keep it shut, because they're all involved. I'll burn the pictures for each lady. I'll give you the name of each lady, once her pictures are destroyed and she's safe. You'll then talk to the lady, sort of mentioning something like sensitive pictures. You'll be able to tell, from each lady's attitude that she's in the clear. However, since you obviously know about the pictures, each lady will owe you, big time. When I finish with the last lady and there are no more incriminating pictures, then I leave town for good."

The Chief says, "That's the craziest scheme I ever even heard of."

I lecture, "Crazy like a fox! Word around town is that you'll lose the upcoming election. That would mean a new guy in your spot. What if the new guy discovers some more pictures? The ladies definitely won't want that to happen. Remember, the new guy is a reform candidate, gonna look in the dark corners. The ladies don't want anybody to find more pictures. You're not finding pictures, in fact you're seeing that pictures get quietly destroyed. The ladies will like that last. The ladies will then see that enough ladies vote right."

I see that I have the Chief's complete attention. I continue, "Now, what I do is get Ronny, the guy who fingered me for the pictures, and have him confess to selling marijuana. I beat the confession out of him. You and your boys will then find the marijuana that you'll give me to plant on him. Ronny probably knows who took the pictures. If he doesn't know, I'll tell him. Ronny fingers the photographer for you. You get a search warrant, based on what Ronny told you. However, despite good and thorough police work, there are no photos. Lying Ronny is in big trouble. Since there are no nasty photos, where there once were nasty photos, the photographer's very important brother owes you big time. In addition, the ladies will do what they can, what with the danger of more pictures and all. It'll be enough. You'll win the election."

I see hope rise in the eyes of the Chief. He then quietly asks, "How did you know about Ronny fingering you?"

I shrug and ask the Chief, "After a lifetime of abuse, who else?"

After the Chief gives me the go ahead, I track Ronny down. I'm five feet ten inches tall and look to be a muscular guy of maybe average weight, say 170 pounds. I'm five feet ten inches tall and a very muscular 190 pounds. l beat the crap out of Ronny one last time. Yeah, it's finally payback time for the years of abuse that little Jimmy had to put up with!

The police then bust Ronny for the marijuana that the Chief gives me to plant on him. To save his sorry ass, Ronny fingers the photographer. The police search and find nothing, of course. The ladies, however, know that there had been photos. What happened to the photos? What if the wrong person finds them? That's where I come in!