Chapter Twenty-Two
An Unexpected Offer
Ryman had made a lot of changes to the office over the weekend. A security door had been installed at the foot of the stairs, denying access to the upper level for any non-approved visitors. An intercom and CCTV system had been set up on the reception desk. No one could get into the office without clearance.
“It’s something we should have done a long time ago,” Ryman said, showing Jason how the system worked. “There’s also a camera on the front door and street, so we can check there’s nobody lurking outside before we leave.”
A week ago, Jason would have scoffed at these precautions. Not anymore. “I can’t believe how quickly you’ve managed to do all this.”
“A friend of mine from the rugby club runs the security company. He’s been going on at me for years to take this up. When I told him what happened to you he agreed to work over the weekend to make sure we were set up for the start of business Monday.”
“I’m very grateful. Really. ”
“Fuck that,” Ryman said with good humour. “We almost lost you. Again,” he added. “No more precautions. I’m putting a pause on all our other work, until this fucker is caught. Now come on, bring me up to speed.”
They spent the morning in Jason’s office, going over the case so far. He’d wondered how Ryman would handle the details of the gay sex work. He was a positive, open-minded guy, but some of the details of what Theo, Tyrone and Dan had been involved in, were out there. Jason had been shocked by some of it himself. Ryman was a complete professional, listening with compassion and empathy. His questions were all about the murders with no judgement on the victims. Jason felt guilty for thinking he would ever be phased by this.
The killings were the important factor. Not the details of the victims’ sex lives or careers.
Olivia interrupted them around midday. “There’s a woman outside. She doesn’t have an appointment, but she says she knows you.”
“Who is she?” Jason asked.
“Nadine Smith.”
“Smythe,” he corrected. “You’d better let her in.”
Olivia pulled a sour face. “Do you really know her?”
“We’re not friends, let’s put it that way. But she’s okay.”
“She’s a stuck-up bitch,” Olivia muttered as she left the room.
Ryman cocked an eyebrow. “The journalist?”
He nodded. “She’s agreed to help us. She said she would drop by and share what she has found out too.”
Nadine strode in a minute later without knocking. She looked like she was made up for an appearance on morning TV, with a full face of make-up, big hair and shoulder pads. She shook off her umbrella and tossed it on the floor beside the door. “Does it rain all the time in this frigging city?”
“No. It only feels that way.” Ryman introduced himself. They didn’t shake hands.
Nadine plonked her oversized handbag on the desk and extracted a laptop. “Come on then, fellas. Show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”
Jason laughed. He would hate to be on the wrong side of Nadine’s story, but he was beginning to warm to her.
“What do you know about Blake Remar?” Jason asked.
She perched on the edge of the desk. “Why?”
“He’s a photographer who worked with all of the victims.”
“Even you?” she asked with a vampy purse of the lips.
“I’m not a victim.”
“ Yet ,” she said. “The way things are going, that might be just a matter of time. Tell me about this guy.”
“He was Theo’s regular cameraman until they had some kind of falling out. It sounds like Blake got possessive and Theo didn’t appreciate it. I’ve spoken to him on the phone, but he wouldn’t talk. We need to get him to open up. He knows something he’s not telling.”
“And you think he’s our guy?”
“Right now, he’s just a person of interest. But it’s a lot of interest.”
Nadine’s eyes sparked with delight. She reached back into the massive bag and pulled out her phone. “So, what’s his number? I’m the queen of confessions. If he’s got something to hide, I’ll get it out of him.”
* * * *
Marc went into the office for the day. Though he didn’t want company or to have to explain what had happened to anyone, he didn’t want to be alone either. He needed to be close to other people. On arrival, he told his assistant that he didn’t want any calls.
“If anyone asks, I’m not here,” he said, closing the door.
Jason had promised to call as soon as he had any news. Marc hadn’t wanted to stay home by himself. It was crazy, but despite his high-tech security system, he no longer felt safe in his own house. He loathed that idea. It was the house he’d bought with Jack, the place they’d spent so many happy years together, and now he was spooked to be there on his own.
Marc twisted his wedding ring, thinking about Jack. As wonderful as it was to be developing feelings for Jason, Jack was always with him. The damn virus had taken him so suddenly. They had thought they had decades ahead of them, then he was gone. They’d never had a talk about what a future could be for one of them if the other was gone. Marc knew he was too young to realistically spend the rest of his life alone, but he’d had no interest in any kind of relationship until now.
He'd managed to satisfy his physical needs with a handful of random, emotionless hook ups, and had wanted nothing more than that. When one of those anonymous men had asked him his name, and a few of them had, he’d always lied. He hadn’t wanted any kind of attachment beyond serviceable sex.
Now Jason had changed everything.
Of all the men Marc had fucked since Jack, Jason was the hottest. He was beautiful, tough, sexy. Those blue-green eyes could put him in a trance. But it was far more than sex. With Jason, Marc could relax. The circumstances could hardly have been worse, but yesterday, spending a quiet day at home with Jason had been very special. It had given Marc a glimpse of what his future could look like. Of a new beginning.
Jack would always be in his heart and with him in spirit.
But Jason could be with him in life.
The telephone rang, interrupting his reflection.
“No calls, please,” he said. “Tell them I’m not here.”
“I would, Mr Glass,” his assistant, Cary said. “But it’s Soloman Archer on the phone. You know, the MP. He won’t take no for an answer.”
Marc straightened up, suddenly alert. “Put him through.”
“Mr Glass. Thank you for taking my call.” The smooth voice of the politician was unmistakable. “I was shocked to hear what has happened to you. You’re recovering well, I hope.”
Marc’s name had been kept out of the press regarding the recent incidents. Someone in Blyham police was obviously keeping the local MP informed. “Then you’ll also know why this happened. In relation to the investigation into my brother’s death.”
“Another tragedy.” Two words, steeped in insincerity.
“You knew Theo well.” It was not a question.
“I was most distressed to learn of the accident. Your brother was a fine man.”
Is this guy for fucking real? Soloman Archer was still in the frame for the murders and attempted murders. He might not have got his hands dirty himself, but it was a real possibility that he’d paid someone to deal with the inconvenience for him. Why was he calling now?
“I know all about your relationship,” Marc said firmly. He wasn’t going to dick around with this arsehole. If Soloman wanted to speak to him, it would be in full honesty. He didn’t want to hear the political whitewashed version. “What do you want?”
“All right, I need to speak to you.” The veneer of grace had vanished. He spoke in the cold, privileged tone of someone used to getting what he wanted.
“I’m only concerned with the truth. If you want to talk me into abandoning the investigation, you’re wasting your time. It’s gone beyond my own interest. The press is already involved.”
There was a hiss of breath on the phone, and then, “Nadine Bloody Smythe. Look, it’s in all of our interests to keep a lid on this. I want to help in your investigation and find out what happened to your brother, but it’s best done in a mannered fashion. Look where barging around, asking difficult questions has got you. You’ve almost been killed once, and your partner has had two attempts on his life.”
“You’re well informed. If only the officers of Blyham police were as interested in solving crimes as they are in protecting you.”
“I’m telling you, there’s a better way to do this.”
“Three men are dead. You can’t make this go away.”
“I know that, and I don’t want to. I just want the whole matter resolved as quietly and efficiently as possible. Which won’t happen if you allow Nadine Smythe to splash it all over her paper.”
The police must have been watching the house yesterday after all. Nadine’s visit seemed to have sent Soloman into some kind of panic.
“What are you suggesting?”
“Meet with me. I’m on my way to Blyham now. I should be there in a couple of hours. Come to my office around six-thirty. The staff will have left by then. I’ll tell you all about my…acquaintance with your brother. Just he ar what I have to say, and afterwards, I’ll help you decide on the best course of action going forward.”
He really is worried . Soloman wasn’t due back in his constituency for another week. He’d obviously dropped whatever he was up to and rushed to Blyham. “You’re only frightened of a scandal.”
“Of course I fucking am. What the hell do you expect, man?” There was fury in the voice now. “When this all comes out, I want to be in control of the narrative. Helping you to catch your brother’s killer is going to play a lot better than…well, the alternative truth. It’s in my interest as much as yours to get to the bottom of this. Do you want to know what happened or don’t you?”
Marc couldn’t have detested the politician any more than he did at that exact moment. Soloman had something to hide, and the quickest way to discover what that was, was to go along with him.
“All right,” he said. “I’ll be there.”
* * * *
As Nadine drove east, into the city suburbs, the bleak, late afternoon sky ahead was illuminated by a startling flash of lightning. Moments later, thunder boomed in the distance.
She gave an exasperated breath. “No fucking surprise. I feel like I’m living in Blade Runner in this bloody city.”
“It’s just the time of year,” Jason told her. “It’s a lot nicer in the summer.”
“I’ve been here on and off for six years and you’re talking shit. The summers are miserable too. If this story takes off, I intend to get out and I won’t be coming back. ”
Jason smiled to himself. He was starting to realise that a lot of Nadine’s toughness was a well-crafted act. He even suspected there was a nice person underneath it all.
She deserved her dues. Nadine had achieved what he’d been unable to. Blake Remar had agreed to talk to them. They were on the way to meet him before he changed his mind. Jason tried to stay positive, but with the way things had gone lately, he hoped Blake was still alive when he got there in order to talk.
“You’ve hit it off with Marc,” Nadine said.
“And that matters because…?”
“Just an observation.” She kept her eyes on the road. “I’m glad. Marc thinks I hate him, but I don’t.”
“You intrude on his grief and published photos of his husband’s funeral. He’s got good reason not to trust you.”
“I’m a journalist. It was a newsworthy story. I had a duty to report it.”
“I doubt he agrees.”
“Even so, I’m glad to see him moving on.”
The windscreen was peppered with a couple of heavy splats of water, before the rain came down in earnest. The wipers came on automatically and Nadine reduced her speed.
Jason kept quiet. What was happening between Marc and himself was nobody’s business but their own. And he would not betray Marc’s trust by spewing his emotions to Nadine Smythe.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw Marc’s ID on the screen. Nadine saw it too.
“Put him on speaker,” she said.
Jason ignored her and answered. “Hi. Everything okay? ”
“You won’t believe who I’ve just got off the phone with,” Marc said before telling him all about the call with Soloman Archer.
“There’s no way he’d be here unless he was rattled,” Jason said.
“That’s exactly what I thought. I’m going to meet him as he asked.”
“Whoa, hold on. Are you forgetting everything that’s happened so far? Wait until I get back from seeing Blake.”
“You’ve found him?”
Jason and Nadine had been in such a hurry to leave the office and get to Blake, he’d neglected to call Marc and fill him in. He gave him a brief update. “We’re heading there now.”
“You don’t know what you’re walking into either,” Marc said. “Neither of these guys has been willing to talk to us, and suddenly today, they both change their minds. Do you buy it?”
“What’s he saying?” Nadine demanded.
Jason relented and put the call on speakerphone. “Nadine can hear what you’re saying,” he said.
“About fucking time,” she scolded. “So Soloman has slithered out of his hole. He must be shit scared.”
“I agree,” Jason said. “We’ll turn around and come to get you. We’ll speak to him together.”
“No. You have to hear what Blake has to say too. We need to talk to both of them. You continue with what you’re doing, and I’ll see Soloman.”
“He’s got a point,” Nadine said. “We don’t know how long this is going to take and by the time we get there, Soloman could have changed his mind. I can’t imagine his Parliamentary advisors know anything about this impromptu trip to Blyham. If they get wind of what he’s doing, they’re likely to shut him up. ”
“You see,” Marc said. “This is the best way to do it.”
Nadine swore at the driver in front of her, before yanking the wheel and pushing her foot to the floor. Jason winced in pain as he was hurled against the seatbelt. She completed her reckless overtake and swerved back into her lane.
“What was that?” Marc asked.
“Don’t ask,” Jason said. His mind was racing. What they were both saying made sense, but he didn’t like any of it. “All right, stay where you are. I’ll call Ryman and get him to pick you up. You’ll need someone to drive anyway. It’ll be safer if he goes with you.”
“Good idea.” Marc sounded relieved too. “Tell him to come for me now, I don’t want to be late.”
When he hung up he turned to Nadine. “What do you think?”
“Honestly? It’s suspicious as fuck. Soloman is not an easy man to get to and he’s just offered himself up. I don’t buy it, but we can’t waste the opportunity. Call Marc back once you’ve arranged his ride and tell him to record the whole thing, from getting out of the car. Don’t ask the slimy bastard for permission, just get it on record.”
Jason groaned. After two weeks of slow progress, things were proceeding at a rapid pace. Marc was in no fit state to put himself in further danger, but Jason knew there was no way he could stop him. Marc would meet with Soloman regardless of the risk.
The best thing he could do was offer some protection.
He took up his phone again and dialled Ryman’s number.
He hoped they weren’t all walking into an elaborate trap.