Chapter 15 #2
There was a knock at the door, and an officer poked his head around it. Riley went over to him, and they spoke quietly. Riley’s groan made Gary’s stomach roil. “Now what?”
The officer left, and Riley faced them, his expression gloomy.
“Great. Monroe’s lawyer arrived. He says he represents the Boston leather community, and there’s another guy with him who writes articles on BDSM for the Huffington Post, Out, and a whole load of magazines I’ve never heard of.
They want to speak to the Chief of Police, and they demand we release Monroe immediately. The lawyer is in with Monroe now.”
Dan pulled his phone from his pants pocket and typed quickly. “Wow. News sure travels fast in this town.” He held up the screen for them to see. “It’s all over Twitter.”
“What the hell did you search for to find it so fast?” Riley gaped.
“Hashtag leather, hashtag bondage….”
Riley peered closer. “The other guy, the one who wouldn’t press charges…. That’s him. He’s the one tweeting.”
Dan scrolled. “He’s not the only one. There’s one here from a lawyer’s office. Maybe it’s Monroe’s lawyer. A guy called Adam Winton.” He winced. “Oh dear. This does not make you guys look good.”
Riley scraped his fingers over his scalp. “Fuck.”
The door opened again, and Gary froze when he caught sight of Travers’s cool expression.
“My office. Now. Both of you.” He glanced at Dan. “Not you, Mr. Porter. You have nothing to do with this.”
“Actually, would it be okay if I came too? I won’t interfere, but I do have some insights that might be valuable.”
Travers pursed his lips. “Very well.”
They followed Travers through the building to his office, Gary, Dan, and Riley trailing behind him, Gary’s face and neck feeling impossibly hot.
I probably look like a school kid being summoned to the principal’s office.
Some of his coworkers aimed sympathetic glances in their direction, and others turned away to hide their expressions.
When they entered, Lewis was waiting for them, pacing up and down in front of Travers’s desk. Travers pointed a bony finger at the chairs, and Gary dropped into one like a stone. Dan stood behind them, his hands clasped.
Lewis’s eyes bulged. “What’s he doing here?”
Travers’s nostrils flared. “If you don’t mind, I’ll be the one asking the questions. And I agreed to Mr. Porter’s presence. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No, sir.” Lewis’s face was sullen.
Travers addressed Gary. “Did you ask Lewis to bring in Monroe?”
Gary straightened. “Yes, sir. We established a connection between him and all the victims and wanted to investigate it further.”
“But you were in charge at the scene.” Travers fixed Lewis with an intense gaze.
“Yes, sir.”
Travers sighed. “Congratulations. You’ve only gone and created a PR nightmare.”
“All we did was bring in a—”
Travers cut off Lewis’s explanation with a hard stare. “Thanks to you, Boston PD appears to be victimizing a well-known member of the leather community.”
“Who might have knowledge of these murders,” Lewis protested. “And we’re not victimizing any—”
There was a knock at the door, and an officer stepped in. “Sir, I have Adam Winton here. He’s the law—”
“It’s okay, Trent, I know who he is. Let him in.”
The officer withdrew, and a moment later, a tall, bald man in a dark suit entered, a briefcase in one hand. He extended the other to Travers, they shook, and Riley stood to let him sit.
“I’ve spoken with my client.” Mr. Winton arched his dark brows. “I assume the police department will replace his front door?”
“We were acting out of concern,” Lewis ground out. “A neighbor heard noises that made us fear we were too late to save another victim.”
Mr. Winton nodded. “I asked my client about this neighbor. He described him as… let me be sure I quote him accurately….” He removed a notepad from his briefcase and flicked through it. “Ah yes, a ‘homophobic asshole.’”
Gary bit his lip.
“Mr. Brading has complained to the concierge on numerous occasions about my client,” Mr. Winton continued.
“Said complaints have been petty, vindictive, and bordering on hate speech. Your arrival was manna from heaven, and he took full advantage of it.” He placed his briefcase on the floor beside his chair.
“Now, about the scene your officers interrupted….”
“Scene?” Lewis’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me, but—”
Mr. Winton’s blue eyes were glacial. “Do you have any firsthand experience of BDSM, Detective?”
“No, but that’s not the point.”
Mr. Winton blinked. “I rather think it is. Everything taking place in that apartment was consensual.”
“Does that include drugs? Because he had GHB.”
“Can I say something here?” Dan’s clear, deep voice rang out.
Travers nodded. “Mr. Winton, this is Dan Porter, who is helping us with the case.” The two men exchanged polite nods.
Dan turned to Lewis. “What you may not know, Detective Stevens, is that GHB is a pretty frequent sex-related drug among gay men. I won’t go into details here of what effects it produces, but it is commonplace.”
“And I suppose you have firsthand experience of this?” Lewis retorted, his face flushed.
Gary’s chest constricted, but Dan met Lewis’s heated gaze, his eyes cool. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.”
Gary envied Dan his calm.
Dan wasn’t done. “You can’t assume anyone who has GHB is the killer. That’s like saying if someone dies from being stabbed with a kitchen knife, then anyone who possesses a kitchen knife has to be a murderer.”
“I’ve spoken with my client about the dates of the murders,” Mr. Winton interjected. “He has alibis for all of them.”
“Then we need to check them,” Lewis retorted.
Mr. Winton consulted his notepad. “The last murder? Cory Peterson? Mr. Monroe was in Chicago, attending a convention known as International Mr. Leather. Between one and two thousand people attended, and on the day in question, at least several hundred men saw him.” He cleared his throat. “Including myself.”
Lewis blinked. “How can that many people have seen him? It isn’t possible.”
“Mr. Monroe is a well-known face at these events. He was on stage for most of the day. Marius Eisler’s murder?
Monroe was in LA, giving a demonstration of rope bondage at Eagle LA.
” Mr. Winton regarded Travers. “So unless you’re assuming there are two killers out there, do you still want to check his alibis?
I assure you, they will all stand up to scrutiny. ”
Travers stood. “Thank you for speaking with us, Mr. Winton. There will be no charges against Mr. Monroe, and he’s free to leave.” They shook again.
“Now we’ve cleared all that up, I trust you’ll get back to finding the real killer.” Mr. Winton’s face fell. “I meet a great many gay men, and most of them are frightened by this.”
“We’re doing all we can,” Travers assured him. With a final nod, Mr. Winton left the office. Travers ran his fingers through his hair. “Christ. This is a mess.”
Lewis was on his feet, staring at Dan. “So you’re into all this? Whips, chains, and drugs? With guys?”
Dan stared at him, but Travers got in first. “I don’t give a damn if he is or he isn’t.
His personal life is none of your affair.
Carry on like this, Stevens, and it’ll sound as if you’re victimizing Mr. Porter on account of his sexuality.
I don’t have to remind you what a dim view the state of Massachusetts takes of attitudes like that, do I? ”
“No, sir.”
“For the record, Detective Stevens?” Dan lifted his chin.
“Yes, I’m gay. It isn’t a secret. No, I’m not part of the BDSM lifestyle, but I know people who are.
No, I don’t use GHB myself, but again, I’ve met others who do.
It has a not-unearned reputation as a date-rape drug, and in this instance, a maniac is using it to kill gay men.
But please don’t assume the same of every GHB user.
” He gave a cool smile. “And now we’ve got that out of the way, let’s concentrate on finding the killer. ”
“I second that.” Travers drew in a deep breath.
“Damage control time. Gary, you’re back as lead investigator, but Riley will be in on all your interviews.
” He speared Gary with a look reinforced with steel.
“I told the chief you were one of the best detectives on the force. Now prove me right.” Someone rapped on the door, and Travers barked out, “What is it?”
Officer Dietrich peered around it. “Sir. A call just came in. A body’s been discovered.” His face was pale. “Looks like another one.”
Jesus fucking Christ.