Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
Dan opened his eyes and stretched. I needed that. He reached for his phone and blinked when he saw the time. Five and a half hours? That was some nap. Guess I really needed that.
He propped his head up with pillows and clicked on Google. He wasn’t sure what time Gary would finish work—not for a few hours yet—but he had to eat sometime, right? The least Dan could do would be to surprise him with a dinner reservation.
And he knew exactly where to look.
He threw back the comforter and ambled over to the window. Outside it was a lovely late afternoon, and it called to him. Since their weekend together, Dan had left the hotel for two reasons—to go to the precinct and for Cory’s funeral.
Then he remembered he had another search to do.
He went back to the bed and picked up his phone.
The first clinic that popped up looked promising, and he had to smile at its name.
How apt. When he scrolled through the information, he realized the clinic would close in an hour.
But as he went to click on Call, he hesitated.
Instead he clicked on Uber. With so little time available, it made more sense than getting his car from hotel parking, then trying to find a place to park near the clinic.
It was too pleasant an afternoon to stay indoors, and the clinic was less than half an hour away by car. He could check it out, see what appointments were available for the coming week, then grab a coffee and find a bench in the sunshine. By the time Gary was finished, he’d be back at the hotel.
A brief pang lanced through him. Gary won’t be happy about me leaving the hotel without him. But it wasn’t as if he was in any danger. The killer wouldn’t be lurking someplace, waiting for him to venture out into the open, ready to pounce.
Like I said, I’m not even on his radar.
When he saw an Uber could be at the hotel in five minutes, he made a mad scramble to pull on his jeans and a shirt.
This won’t take long.
4:20 p.m.
Gary finished reading the final autopsy report on Marius Eisler, which had come through at last. There were no surprises.
If anything it was a carbon copy of the previous four.
The tox screen had revealed Rohypnol and ketamine.
Although the victim’s body had stopped processing the substances biologically, the markers for them remained.
Del had declared death to be due to a fatal dose of ketamine.
He picked up the statements from Jack Noonan’s landlady and roommates. Nothing new in them either. There were the same comments about the number of guys who visited the apartment. Lewis had observed that they could expect nothing else, not when all three occupants were gay.
Concentration proved difficult, but Gary knew the cause of it. There was a fluttery, empty feeling in his stomach, and every time his phone buzzed, he seized it, only to put it down, disappointed, when it wasn’t what he’d expected.
He was waiting for something to happen.
Riley burst into the room. “We’ve got something.”
“I thought you said Barry was fast? It’s been five hours.”
“Hey, he hasn’t stopped since I saw him. And it’s paid off.”
Gary’s heart pounded. “Tell me.”
“He cross-referenced all deaths in Boston and came up with nothing. Then he widened the net to Massachusetts, and one name emerged that met all our criteria.” Riley consulted his notes. “Paul Philip Ludlow. Died in 2014, in Lowell, aged twenty-six.”
“How did he die?”
“He took bath salts—”
“Isn’t that some kind of designer drug? Like meth?”
Riley nodded. “The medical examiner postulated that he’d probably suffered from paranoia and psychosis due to the drug. Anyway, he cut off his own penis.”
“Jesus.” Gary winced.
“He’d been alone for the weekend. By the time his roommate returned to the apartment, Paul had died, not from blood loss but from the drug.”
“Now tell me how he fits into this.”
Riley glanced at his notes. “Paul was gay, and there was evidence of numerous sexual partners. He was also a sex worker. His roommate—who was also his boyfriend at the time—said Paul had gotten into chemsex. Quote from his statement: ‘I tried to stop Paul’s downward spiral, but to no avail.’”
“Okay, that’s two off the list. What else?”
“There was evidence someone had been with him before he died, but inquiries revealed nothing. GHB was found at the scene, along with the bath salts.” Riley paused.
Gary’s skin tingled. “And now it makes sense.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve always wondered why GHB was left at each crime scene but never turned up once in a tox screen.” He shook his head. “Our killer was making a statement. What about rope and cuffs?”
“They found those too. Then I had an idea. I called that lawyer, Adam Winton, and asked him to do a little digging for me. He just called me back.” Riley’s eyes gleamed. “Seems Paul Ludlow was a frequent flier at a BDSM club here in Boston.”
Gary beamed. “Well done, Riley. Now, did Paul have any family?” It had to be what they were looking for. Paul’s death ticked all the boxes.
“His parents died in 2008, caught up in a freeway shootout. That left one older brother, Christopher.” Riley cocked his head. “Want me to see if there are any uncles, cousins?”
“What about this boyfriend?”
He peered at his notepad. “His name is Christian Davis. I’ve emailed you Barry’s findings and the last known contact details for the boyfriend and the brother.”
“Either one of them could be out for revenge,” Gary mused. “But it’s a start. Find out what you can about both guys.”
Riley grinned. “Already did. The boyfriend is in Florida now. The brother was living in Boston when his brother died.”
“Then let’s make some calls.” Gary brought up the email and clicked on the number for Christopher Ludlow.
He grimaced when it went to voicemail. Damn.
“Mr. Ludlow, this is Detective Gary Mitchell from Boston PD. Could you call me back on this number when you receive this message? Thank you.” He disconnected.
“I don’t know about you, but I need coffee.” Riley smiled. “I’ll bring one for you too.” He left Gary to his calls.
Next stop was Christian Davis, who answered within three rings. “Hello?”
“Mr. Davis, my name is Detective Gary Mitchell. I’m with the Boston police department. Paul Ludlow’s name has cropped up during the course of our investigations, and I was wondering what you can tell me about him.” He kept his voice smooth.
“He died four years ago. How can he have anything to do with your investigations?”
“I can’t divulge that, I’m afraid. Right now I need whatever information you can give me about him.”
There was silence for a moment. When Christian finally spoke, his voice cracked a little. “He was such a lost soul, you know? Losing his parents like that….”
“You said in your statement that you tried to stop him taking drugs.”
More beats of silence.
“Mr. Davis, please. This could be important.” He needed to keep Christian talking for as long as he could. Anything to formulate a clearer picture of the guy.
Is he the kind of man who could kill to avenge a lover’s death?
Finally, Christian sighed. “We had an open relationship, because that was what Paul wanted, and I… I didn’t want to lose him. So I ignored the hookups. After all, they left, but I was still there, right?”
Gary caught a tremor in his voice. “You loved him very much.” When Christian didn’t respond, he continued. “You were okay with him being a sex worker?”
“Yes, because that was work. To him, it was another way to earn a dollar. Not that he got a lot of business. Why pay for sex when your phone tells you there’s a guy feet away from you who’s looking for a good time?”
And maybe you weren’t as comfortable with his work as you make out.
“What about the drugs?”
Christian sighed. “That was… difficult. He started using during sex. Not with me, however. I wasn’t into that.
So he hooked up with guys who were happy to use with him.
I did try to get him to stop. I just didn’t get very far.
” He paused. “I kept hoping. I thought I could turn him around. But he relied on it. I swear, sometimes he took drugs simply to get a boner. And then he wanted… harder stuff.” His voice quavered.
“I guess he found it in the end.” Gary caught a stifled sob.
“I know why he used. Why he went with so many guys. He was trying to numb the pain, that was all.”
“The pain of losing his parents in the shooting?”
“Oh God, that was only the start of it. He could’ve come through that, I know he could, but he felt so abandoned.”
“What do you mean?”
“The one person he needed wasn’t there for him—his brother, Christopher.
I did my best to support Paul, to be there for him, but I guess I wasn’t the one he needed.
I laid into Christopher at the funeral, I can tell you.
He was so busy with school, he had no time for Paul.
And Paul fucking needed him. Christ, the number of texts Paul sent, and Christopher hardly ever replied.
” He made a strangled noise. “I hope his guilt fucking chokes him.”
Guilt….
Gary stared at the board where Guilt stood out, its black letters stark against the white.
Dan, you nailed it. Gary trusted his gut instincts, and right then they were telling him Christian Davis wasn’t their man.
His heartbeat raced, and he quivered with the effort of controlling his emotions.
“Do you know what his brother was studying?”
“Sure. He worked in some hospital where he had a job collecting blood after surgery. He’d clean it up, and it would go back into the patient.
I never even knew that was a thing. But then he started training to be a physician’s assistant.
I think he’d just finished when Paul died.
” Another pause. “Is any of this gonna help you in whatever you’re doing?
Because you’ve gone and opened up a wound I’d thought was healed. ” His voice cracked.
Gary could have told him that some wounds never really healed.
“You’ve been a great help, really. Thank you. And I’m sorry to have caused you so much pain.” He said goodbye and disconnected. No sooner had he put his phone down than it vibrated. He glanced at the screen. It was a text from Dan.
Don’t be mad, but I had to get out of here.
I’ve got us a table tonight at the Noodle Barn.
And I hope it’s okay, but I’m on my way to make us an appointment for a test. The clinic isn’t open on weekends, so I’ll try for the latest appointment I can get before then.
You can tell Travers you’re going to the dentist. I thought we could go together. Tell you all about it later.
Gary smiled to himself. He doesn’t let the grass grow under his feet, does he?
Lewis came into the room. “My calls paid off. All the victims attended the same sexual health clinic.”
Gary couldn’t contain his grin. “I call that a result.”
“The doc got a little snotty with me at first—client confidentiality, right?—but when I said all these guys were dead and she’d be helping with a murder inquiry, she changed her tune.”
“Which clinic? And where is it?”
“It’s in Dorchester.” Lewis snorted. “Wait till you hear the name of this place. It’s on Dix Street, a stone’s throw from Dorchester Avenue, and they called it…
the Dix Center. Kinda appropriate, don’t you think?
And about as subtle as a train wreck.” His eyes sparkled.
“Wanna bet our guy met up with all his victims while they were waiting to pee in a cup? Great place to meet guys, right?”
Riley walked in with the coffee as Gary grabbed his coat. “Are we going somewhere?”
“Yup. We’re going to a sexual health clinic to take a look at their clients. Because maybe one of them is our man. And on the way, I’ll tell you what I learned from Christian Davis.”
“Who?” Lewis asked with a frown.
Gary thought fast. “I’ll tell you when we get back. It doesn’t need three of us.” Without waiting for a reply, he headed out the door, Riley behind him.
When they reached the car, he called Dan, but it went straight to voicemail. He pulled up Dan’s text and reread it. Where is he going to make that appointment?
His stomach churned. He called Lewis. “Did you find many sexual health clinics in Boston?”
Lewis huffed. “There were quite a few if all you wanted was a therapist or treatment for erectile dysfunction. This one was the only clinic that fit the bill.”
The churning in Gary’s stomach increased.
I’m getting a bad feeling about this.