Chapter Twenty
An Unlikely Partnership
If Marc had given any thought to how it would be the first time Jason came to his house, he would never have imagined it would involve two police officers and take place in the aftermath of another murder attempt.
It was the morning after Marc discovered Tyrone Lucas’ body on the bank of the river, and the near fatal attack on Jason at his office. When they had finally been released by the police last night, Marc had considered it safer to get out of the city and retreat to his house on the coast.
They were in the living room. Jason sat in the armchair with his injured leg raised on a foot stool. His eyes were deep-set and dark. His usually lustrous skin was wan and pasty. Marc knew he’d got very little sleep last night, despite the increased strength painkillers he’d been supplied with at the hospital. He was dressed in a pair of Marc’s lounge pants and a loose T-shirt. They hadn’t been back to Jason’s apartment to collect any of his things .
Marc’s parents were on the sofa. He was heartened by his mother’s strength and determination. After what had happened to Theo, he’d half expected her to fall apart at the latest developments. She’d been more shocked that Marc had concealed the facts of Friday’s car crash from her. She’d seen it on the local news and had no idea it had involved her son.
Marc sat in the chair across from Jason. His plastered arm rested in a sling.
He had met DS Benito Coppola before. The young detective was accompanied by the senior investigating officer, Detective Inspector Carina Glenister. She was a sharply dressed woman in her forties. Her dark hair was pulled into a tight ponytail.
They were perched on chairs carried in from the dining room.
Benito had made tea for them all before the DI got to business.
“I wanted to keep you up to date with what’s happening in the investigation,” the DI said.
Marc had already taken against her. She had an officious manner and insincere way of speaking. He’d met a million people like her in his business dealings. The corporate manager type who valved their own career ascension above everything else. There was no humanity to her tone. The caring attitude was forced and learnt more than felt.
“As of this morning, we are linking the murders of Dan Blumel and Tyrone Lucas, together with the attempts on your own lives, and with the unsolved death of Theo.”
“Murder,” Marc’s mother corrected her. “It’s not an unsolved death. It’s an unsolved murder. ”
Marc caught the tightening around DI Glenister’s eyes, before she sucked her lips and nodded sympathetically. This was not a woman who liked to be challenged. He wondered how many junior officers’ lives had been made a misery on her route to the top.
“It’s all part of one investigation,” she continued. “DS Coppola has joined the major investigation team as part of our expansion. We’ve got a lot of officers working on the case now.”
“As you should,” Marc said. “Blyham police have let down the city once again.”
Jason nodded. “Not to mention the LGBTQ community. Only weeks after the Blyham Strangler and you’ve got another killer targeting victims who have one thing in common—they’re all gay men. Is that why you’ve drafted in Benito? Use your token gay cop to make a good impression.”
Despite how tired and weary he felt, Marc couldn’t help a small smile at Jason’s opposition to the DI. He was entirely right. The city police force hadn’t learnt a thing from the mistakes they had made during the Strangler murders.
“I can assure you that’s not true,” Benito said. “I’m joining the team because I want to find who is responsible for these attacks before they cause any more harm. The police force isn’t perfect, but with scant resources, we do everything we can to protect the public.”
“Excuses,” Marc’s mother muttered. “Do you expect all victims of crime to resort to the measures Marc has done? To hire a real detective to get to the truth.”
DI Glenister looked at Marc and then Jason without moving her head. “About that. Yes. I’m going to need to see all of your notes relating to the case. ”
“I’ve already told you everything I’ve learnt. I found out more in a week and half than you lot discovered in three months.”
“With respect, Mr Durham, it can be argued that your investigation has led to the death of two young men and the attempts on your own life.”
Jason laughed at her. “Doesn’t take much for your mask of concern to slip, does it? There we have it—the real face of Blyham police. Is victim blaming an active policy within the force these days?”
“I assure you that’s not what I’m saying.” DI Glenister tried to adopt a confident tone, but it was clear that she was rattled. “But policing is best left to the experts.”
Now everyone in the room but the detectives laughed.
Glenister’s cheeks flushed. She looked to Benito for help, who stared into his tea mug, ignoring her.
“Is that everything?” Marc said at last. “You told us you’d come to update us. Is that it? You’ve reopened the investigation into Theo’s murder?”
“Well, yes. But that’s not everything?”
“Do you have any suspects? Any CCTV footage from the river area yesterday? How far have you got with Dan Blumel’s murder? Or finding out who stole the car that hit us.” Jason’s voice brimmed with anger.
“This is an ongoing investigation, I’m not at lib—”
Marc stood. “I think it’s best that you go. We’ve been through enough, and you’re not helping. In fact, you’re making things worse.”
Glenister was about to argue, but Benito was already on his feet and thanking them for the tea. Marc saw them out .
When he returned to the living room, Marc’s father was gathering up the dirty mugs. His mother was at the window, watching the detectives leave.
“Are they all as bad as that?” she asked.
“What’s the expression?” Jason said. “As useless as a marzipan dildo. That’s how best to sum up Blyham police.”
Marc sat on the arm of the chair and touched his face with his good hand. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Apart from being tired, groggy, sore and, after talking to those two dipshits, pissed off.” He took Marc’s hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it gently. “But this makes it better.”
“What happens now?” his mother asked.
“If we leave it up to that lot? Not much. They might shake down some of Tyrone’s dodgy contacts and see if they can pin the murders on them. Or some random car thief might find he’s being accused of a lot more than what he’s actually done. But in terms of getting to the truth, it’s up to us. We keep investigating.”
“Oh, no you don’t,” his mother said. “Two attempts to kill you is more than enough. You might not be so lucky a third time.”
“We have to,” Jason said. “Whoever is responsible will keep coming until they’re stopped. And I know we’ve got a much better chance of finding them before the plods do.”
While Jason and his mother continued to argue, Marc sat back down and scrolled through his phone to the news pages. The murder at the river was getting a fair bit of coverage on the local news groups, but so far the police had withheld the name of the victim and the details of the killing. In the comments sections, people were making wild speculations about what was happening, including suggestions that the cops had lied about catching the Blyham Strangler, and that the real killer was still at large. They were also naming people with no connection, suggesting they were the victim.
Interesting, some people were also aware of the attack on Jason. Though nothing had officially been released to the press, there must have been enough witnesses in the coffee shop to get the rumours started.
Marc put down his phone and looked at the others. “Don’t shoot this down until you’ve heard me out, but I’ve got an idea. You’re going to hate it, but it might work to our advantage.”
* * * *
“Why are you talking to me now?” Nadine Smythe sat at the kitchen table and extracted a mobile phone, notebook and pen from her oversized handbag. “What’s changed?”
“You mean apart from almost getting killed for a second time?” Jason asked. He sat across from Nadine, looking a lot brighter than he had that morning. The painkillers seemed to have kicked in, but it was more than that. Since Marc had suggested his plan of action, Jason had perked up considerably. Having something to do had jerked him out of the depression that had threatened to descend on him.
“My parents know everything now,” Marc told her. He put a cup of coffee in front of Jason and returned twice more with drinks for Nadine and himself before sitting down. “I tried to protect them from the facts of my brother’s lifestyle. There was no need. ”
Nadine nodded. “I’m glad. I did always think you were overreacting. This isn’t the 1970s. Parents are a lot more open-minded these days.”
He let the little dig slide. They both knew she would have sensationalised every aspect of Theo’s work, making it appear as sleazy and sordid as possible.
“But I still don’t get this.” She wagged her finger between the two of them. The red varnish on her long nails reminded Marc too much of the colour of blood. He’d seen more than enough of that in recent days. “You hate me. So why are you offering me an exclusive?”
“You’ve seen the latest headlines,” Jason said. “The cops are giving nothing. They’re going to sit on this until people forget it happened. They haven’t even released details on the latest victim yet.”
“I’ve already spoken to Tyrone’s sister,” Nadine said.
“You didn’t waste time, then,” Marc couldn’t resist the snipe.
“I’m not going to write a hatchet piece, if that’s what you think. The victims of the Blyham Strangler were barely a footnote in the reporting of that story. It was despicable. Tomorrow morning, my paper will feature a full tribute to Tyrone Lucas and Dan Blumel.”
“It will?” Marc and Jason asked the question in unison.
“Yes,” she said, defiantly. “Syrine Lucas, his sister, has given me her full blessing. Tyrone had a difficult life. Him and Syrine were dragged up as kids. Alcoholic mother, absent father. They were in and out of foster care for years, the only consistency they had was each other. He acted tough because he had to. People might look down their noses at online sexual content creators, but it was the first time in his life that Tyrone had a reliable job and income source. He had his struggles, and he deserved a lot better than a cold, premature end on a fucking riverbank.”
There was a hereto unknown passion to Nadine’s words, Marc would not have thought possible if he was not witnessing it himself. She actually cared about this injustice. A stark contrast to the cold-as-ice Detective Inspector that morning.
“And Theo?”
“Tell me his story and I’ll write it up too. You can have full disclosure before it goes to print. Blyham police can’t see the reality behind the victims. They’re nothing but statistics to them. It’s time to switch the focus and shame the bastards into action.” Her eyes moved slowly between them. “Do you trust me?”
After a beat, Marc replied, “I do.”
“So do I,” Jason said.
“Good.” Nadine fiddled with her phone. Her nails clattered against the screen. “I’ll need to record this conversation.”
They gave her a full and frank account of the last two weeks. How the search for answers to Theo’s death had led them to Dan and Tyrone. They told her how they had discovered Dan’s body at the gym after going there to talk to him. Jason gave his impressions of Tyrone. How likeable he had been beneath his tough talking exterior. She was especially interested in the botched attempt to run them down on Friday night.
“I don’t fucking believe it,” she said. “They didn’t assign you with police protection after that. After what happened to your brother. ”
“Did you spot any officers out there on your way in this afternoon?” Marc asked. “After everything yesterday.”
Her mouth tightened. “No. I didn’t.”
“Exactly.”
“Shit.” She scribbled in her notebook. “Do you have any kind of protection in the house?”
“I’ve got exterior cameras and an alarm. We’re safe inside,” Marc said. He wasn’t worried about his security in the home. The killer had proved that they were far more likely to strike out in the open.
Nadine asked Jason about his experience the night before.
“Did you get any kind of impression about your attacker?”
“They were covered head to toe. Even their eyes were dark. And I was closing up the office at the time, most of the lights were out. They were fit, I know that. And fast. Hard to gauge their build given what they were wearing, but it wasn’t some brick shithouse.”
“Organised crime, do you think?”
“A professional hit, you mean. No, I wouldn’t be here now if that was the case. If they were paid, they were strictly low-end. They’ve fucked it up twice.”
“The type of person you might find hanging out in a grimy city gym?” she said. “Like the one where Dan worked?”
“It’s certainly a consideration.”
“What about Soloman Archer?”
“Another possibility, but we haven’t got a shred of evidence against him,” Jason said.
“And if he was going to hire a hitman, he could afford someone a lot more efficient and discrete than our killer appears to be,” Marc said. The more developments there were, the less convinced he was becoming of Soloman’s involvement. “He was seeing Theo as an escort, but he has no connection to any of the other victims.”
“Unless they knew about him,” Nadine said, “or had something on him. Something he didn’t want to come out.”
“But how long have you been digging into him?” Marc asked. “You haven’t come up with anything and neither have we. He’s a shit MP and seems to be a horrible man and vile husband, but I think he might be clear on this one. And Dan and Tyrone were killed with a knife, in a frenzied way. That doesn’t suggest a professional assassin, does it? It’s personal. I think this is someone killing for their own reasons.”
“I still need to track down this photographer, Blake Remar. Tyrone thought he was dodgy, so did Theo’s ex-boyfriend Roaul. Until we speak to him, he’s still in the frame.”
“So, what you’re telling me is you’ve got nothing.” Nadine closed her notebook and laid her pen on top of it. She picked up her coffee cup in both hands and sipped.
Marc and Jason looked at each other hopelessly across the table.
“It feels that way today,” Jason said.
Nadine put down the cup. She reached across to take each of their hands. Unnerved by the nifty expression on her face, Marc accepted it cautiously.
“Then it’s a good job we’re all friends now, isn’t it?” Her eyes rolled from Marc to Jason. “Because I’m an excellent investigative journalist and now is the time that you need my help.”