Daphne

(4) Crossing the Rubicon

We're running with the shadows of the night
So baby, take my hand, it'll be all right.
Surrender all your dreams to me tonight
They'll come true in the end.

Lyrics from "Shadows of the Night", written by D.L. Byron

Leo entered the front door, followed by a nervous Daphne. This is the excited anticipation, butterflies-in-the-stomach part of the roller-coaster ride when you are committed, and are slowly moving up, up, up to the terrifying plunge that is just beyond the horizon, she thought.

The well-lit foyer was about 5 yards square and there were three metallic cases laying on the reception desk. In front of each was a jewelry chain with a rectangular metal pendant. Leo selected a case, walked across the reception area, and opened another door. He invited her into his office and set the case on his desk.

Leo offered her a seat, and asked to see her wallet. She nervously complied.

He pulled out all the cards; the State and College IDs were for a Daphne Williams who recently turned nineteen years-old. The photos matched the girl seated across from him and the name embossed on the ATM card confirmed the girl's identity. There was nothing to indicate that "Daphne Williams" was an alternate identification.

He fished a roll of 1/8" black masking tape from his desk and soon her middle and last names, her street address, and the number of the State ID were all obscured. It was still plainly a State ID with a date of birth associated to a face and a first name.

He photocopied the redacted ID onto a 3"x5" index card, then produced an ink pad and asked her to impress her thumb print on the back.

Daphne looked at the card before returning it to Leo. If the rest of Leo's card collection was anything like this one, someone could steal the whole set and still not know who his models are. The cops could probably figure it out – her thumbprint was on the card, after all – but she wasn't worried about them publicizing her secrets. He had his proof that none of his models were underage, and they had their anonymity. She felt reassured as she handed the card back to Leo; his commitment to her security was genuine.

He opened a drawer and produced a cell-phone. It had only three buttons; Daphne recognized it as the type you give children so they can contact their parents in an emergency. "What's that for?" Daphne asked.

Leo examined the phone, nodded, then wrote "11" on the 3x5 card with Daphne's ID and fingerprint. "It's for you" he said as he handed it to her.

"Oh, no!" she protested. She rifled through her purse and showed off her smart phone. "I've already got a phone!"

He smiled. "I'm sure you do, and that's why you need this one." He picked up his desk-phone's handset and dialed 11. The little phone beeped. He looked at Daphne. "I think that call is for you."

She picked it up, activated the device, and, rolling her eyes, held it to her face. "Hi, Leo. What's up?"

"What's up is that we're talking by telephone and there is no record anywhere in the universe of either of us calling the other." He hung up. "If I call your private phone, my carrier will keep a record of the call and there will be duplicate records kept by yours. And, if this card should ever fall in the wrong hands, your number will be on it. If you're OK with that level of risk, OK. Or, you can use my phone. The button on the left calls me, the one on the right calls 911, and you can set the button in the middle yourself. OK?"

Daphne nodded and accepted the phone. "What about my fingerprint?"

"What about it?"

"It's on that card too, 'if it ever fell in the wrong hands'..."