Chapter Fifteen
A Grieving City
If Marc had ever been to Julie’s Bar before, he had no memory of it. Either that or the place had changed considerably. Though not as old-fashioned as The New Inn, it was a traditional pub with a friendly atmosphere. He’d arranged to meet Jason here at seven for a drink before they went to get something to eat. He’d kept the room on at The Vermont for another night and had got a surprising amount of work done there today without the usual distractions of being in an office. Marc had finished everything he needed to by five. He’d done a quick workout in the hotel gym, showered and changed, and arrived at the pub twenty minutes ahead of time.
The video jukebox was playing Kylie Minogue when he arrived. The place was reasonably busy, but from the way they were dressed he guessed these were people having a drink after work, rather than those at the start of a night out.
Just a week ago, Marc would have felt out of place coming into any of the bars in the gay village by himself. How much had changed since he’d instigated the investigation and met Jason. This world, which had seemed so alien and unwelcoming to him before, was almost a comfort now. By discovering the venues on the scene, even The Viaduct, he felt like he was getting to know Theo in a way he’d never been able to when he was alive.
He could imagine his brother in here. Surrounded by friends, having a laugh and making the most of life.
With a sudden stab to the heart that had become all too frequent, Marc was flooded with regret for the things he’d never said and now never would.
There were two women working the bar. One with white and blue hair approached him with a smile and took his order. He went for a medium glass of white wine. As she fixed the drink and took payment, he noticed a framed photo on the back wall of a handsome man around forty years old. There was a plaque beside his picture. In loving memory of Phil Logan, it read.
Of course . Phil had been one of the last victims of the Blyham Strangler. Because he had been a stranger to the LTBTQIA community, Marc was only beginning to realise the devastating effect the murders had had on the people here. He gazed at Phil’s picture and another wave of sadness washed through him. Such a tragic waste of another young life.
Then he started to see all the community posters and notifications that adorned the walls around the pub. Helplines, support meetings, crisis centres. Free personal alarms were available for anyone who needed them. Though the Blyham Strangler had been captured, his legacy of violence would haunt the city for a long time .
And now there had been another death. Dan Blumel’s name could be added to the catalogue of tragedy.
Marc took his drink and found a table. It was on the inside but close enough to the wide doors of the heated beer garden. The outdoor area was well covered and there were a lot of people taking advantage of it.
Jack would have loved it here .
If his husband had been alive at the time of the Strangler murders, he would have been galvanised to take action himself. Jack had been far more community minded than Marc ever was. When they were younger, Marc had focused all his energy on making his business a success, while Jack had always been more people focused. If it hadn’t been for Jack, Marc would never have taken time for holidays or leisure pursuits.
Had Marc wasted the time they’d had together? He’d spent so long in the office when he could have been with his husband, making memories. They’d had no idea how short their life together would be.
Nobody did.
Would Theo have done things differently too, if he’d known what little future he had? Or Dan Blumel? Or any of the other young men who had lost their lives in this vibrant community?
The memorial behind the bar had triggered something. It was unfair that his brother’s life should be forgotten. And what was he doing now, if not trying to cover up Theo’s lifestyle? To stop it from coming to the attention of their parents. When Nadine Smythe had approached him with her intention to investigate Theo’s death, Marc’s initial reaction had been panic. Fear that his mother would discover the truth .
Would she even be shocked? Theo was her baby, but she couldn’t be so na?ve to think he was an angel. Had Theo even made much of an effort to conceal what he did? He’d been proud of his adult content creation when he’d talked to Marc. Had he also confided in their mother? Marc had never asked. He’d been too scared to face the facts.
Shit. What the hell am I doing?
He was coming at this from the wrong direction. Hiring Jason to discover the truth about Theo before Nadine could expose it, when what they should really focus on was finding out who killed him and celebrating his life.
Marc sighed wearily and tasted the wine.
Not bad.
An exceptionally handsome couple came into the bar. They both had dark-brown hair. The younger of the two, in his mid to late twenties, was tall with large eyes and a strong jawline. The older partner looked to be in his late thirties. He was very serious-looking with startlingly pale grey eyes. They held hands. From their body language, and the way they moved together, they were so obviously in love.
When she spotted them, the bartender who had served him hurried out from behind the bar and rushed over to them. She embraced the younger man first, hugging him tight. It was a display of touching and raw affection. She wrapped her arms around the older man more carefully.
“Is this okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” he replied. “Really. It doesn’t hurt much at all now.” His accent sounded French .
Another song started on the jukebox and Marc couldn’t hear what else they said. The woman returned to her position behind the bar and served their drinks.
Jason came through the door a moment later. His face was serious as he scanned the room, until he spotted Marc and broke into that staggeringly sexy smile. He had come direct from work, and still managed to look incredible in chinos, a navy jersey and bomber jacket. He walked straight over to Marc.
“Hey, I didn’t expect you to be here already.”
Marc’s melancholia evaporated with his arrival. “I walked from the hotel. I had no idea how long it would take.”
“You should have got a cab up. This city still isn’t the safest place to be walking the streets.” Noticing Marc’s puzzled expression, he continued, “A fella was queer bashed earlier in the week on Broad Street. The Strangler might have been caught, but there’s still a lot of people about who hate us.”
“Noted.”
“Can I get you something?” Jason gestured to the bar.
Marc shook his head. “I’ve barely touched this. Just see to yourself.”
When Jason went off for his drink, Marc couldn’t resist checking him out. His beefy butt filled the seat of his pants. Until last night, Marc had fought against his attraction to Jason. Now he didn’t want to resist. So what if they were breaching professional boundaries. They owed it to themselves to seize a few moments of happiness when they were presented.
Jason returned with a pint of bitter. He took off his jacket and hung it over the rear of the chair. His nipples were hard, poking against the material of his jersey .
“Good day?” Marc asked.
Jason sipped his pint and nodded. He licked the foam off his top lip. “I found Tyrone and tracked down Theo’s photographer.”
Marc straightened. “You did? How?”
“I just called the number we got from The Viaduct for Tyrone.”
“He agreed to speak to you?”
“For a hundred quid.”
“Huh. And what did he say?”
“Apart from offering to fuck me in one of his videos, quite a lot. He was rude and offensive, but I think it was all an act. Underneath, he was just a kid who’s had to look after himself for a long time. He’s getting by the only way he knows how.”
Jason filled him in on what had occurred at Tyrone’s flat.
“Does he really think Theo was a conman?” Marc asked.
“Nah. He’s just pissed off because Theo had more subscribers than he did and therefore was making a lot more money. As he should have, Theo paid for everything relating to the shoot. He did Tyrone a favour by letting him share the clip fifty-fifty.”
Marc sighed. He still hadn’t watched any of Theo’s adult content. He doubted he ever would. As much as he wanted to learn more about his brother and understand his life, he didn’t need to see that.
“And the photographer?”
“Very cagey. He didn’t want to talk to me at all. He tried to play down that he had even worked with Theo. ”
“Does that make him a suspect? Was he so possessive of Theo he would have hurt him? It sounds like a stretch.”
“It makes him a person of interest. And it ties in with what Roaul told me. He’s now at the top of my list for further investigation.”
“I wonder if we’ll ever know what happened?”
Jason reached across the table and put his hand over Marc’s. “Every day we’re learning something new and getting closer to the truth. We’ll find out eventually.”
The pub began to fill up around them. The after-work crowd moved on and were replaced by the genuine evening punters. The good-looking couple who had arrived earlier carried their drinks from the bar into the beer garden, where they joined a small group of people who were as happy to see them as the bartender had been. There were hugs and tears all around.
“Do you know who they are?” Marc asked quietly.
The French man sat down, and a pretty black woman put an arm around his shoulder, while wiping away a tear.
“They’re the guys who caught the Blyham Strangler,” Jason spoke in a hushed tone. “The older guy, Mallon, he was stabbed in the process. The younger one is called Roman. They were his intended victims.”
Marc had heard details of the case on the local radio while driving, but he’d never read any of the news articles.
“No wonder they are getting heroes’ welcomes,” he said.
“They’re lucky to be alive. Even luckier to have each other. ”
Marc felt a lump in his throat as watched them, then turned away. He knew what it was like to be stared at and be the centre of ghoulish attention. Those men deserved their privacy. Despite being heroes, he recognised the cloud of grief that hung over the men and their friends.
“Shall we go for food soon? I’m starving.” He’d been so caught up with work at the hotel, his lunch had consisted of a cup of tea and a small packet of complimentary biscuits.
Jason nodded. “Me too. Though we might struggle to get in anywhere on a Friday night.”
“Where do you suggest?”
“Well, if you appreciate good-quality food, without the fancy frills of a posh restaurant, Chez Michelle is always good. It’s up in the city centre. About a five-minute walk.”
Marc laughed. “You think I’m a snob, don’t you?”
Jason feigned shock. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to. I get the message. And FYI, Chez Michelle is actually one of my favourites.”
Jason winked and knocked off his drink. He stood and hauled his jacket on. “Let’s go.”
It was a relief to step outside and find that it was not raining. This must have been the first day in weeks when it hadn’t poured, but there was a cold bite to the evening wind. Marc fastened his jacket to the neck. He was already looking forward to a hot meal, and hopefully afterwards, some hot action with Jason if he was up for it.
They put their hands in their pockets and crossed to the other side of the road.
“We can cut along Broad Street, past The New Inn, then up towards the centre,” Jason said .
“Didn’t you say it was unwise to walk around like this?”
“We should be okay. There are two of us and it’s still early.”
Marc exhaled. “It’s sad, isn’t it? That it should come to this. People afraid to walk about at night.”
“It is. In the last weeks before they caught the Strangler, these streets were crawling with police. Despite the continued hate crimes, they disappeared once they’d caught their Big Bad.”
They were deep in conversation and not paying attention to their surroundings when Marc’s senses suddenly prickled.
In the next second he heard the roar of a car engine.
He spun around to catch sight of blinding headlights rushing towards them.
He grabbed Jason and pulled him aside as the car mounted the kerb, coming straight at them along the pavement.
He caught a quick glimpse of a black car and darkened windows.
Then the vehicle struck. They were both tossed over the bonnet and the roof of the speeding car.