Crimes on Latimer: From the Early Cases of Marco Fontana

by DeMarco, Joseph R. G.

  I was led up a grand, polished wood stairway. A rich oak affair with curved bannisters and deep crimson carpeting, it felt like Hollywood. We stopped in front of a door on the second floor. Beck opened the door, let me into the room with no introductions, and left, closing the door behind him.

  A young man I figured to be Hayes stood looking at me or through me. I’d seen that face before and it threw me for a moment. I searched his face, trying to remember where I’d seen him, but I don’t think he noticed the stare.

  He turned to the side as if he’d heard someone call to him and I realized where I’d seen him. He was the other guy in the photo on the table next to Kyle’s bed. There was more to their connection than family blood. Hayes seemed about the same age as Kyle and just as good-looking. He was swarthy where Kyle was blond, thin where Kyle was shapely, sad-eyed while Kyle’s eyes sparkled. Hayes had the posture of an underpaid accountant. He needed more meat on his bones and a crash course in good posture.

  He looked over at me, and it appeared he’d been crying. His sad brown eyes seemed to scream out for something. When he managed a smile, it was forced and weak.

  “Hayes, I’m Marco Fontana.” I extended my hand.

  His handshake had little conviction in it.

  “I know why you’re here.” He gathered himself and looked me in the eye. “Why would anyone do this to Kyle? Do you know? Is that why you’re here?”

  “I want to know, too, Hayes. That’s one reason I took on the job. I’ll find out. I can promise you that.”

  “Because grandfather is paying you?” There was no anger in his voice, just sadness.

  “Because Kyle is a friend. That’s the reason. But I won’t lie to you, I’m acting on your family’s behalf, too. Your grandfather insisted on paying. But I’d investigate pay, or no pay, I want the bastard who did this.”

  Hayes kept his eyes locked onto mine and nodded his head.

  “Who could possibly want to do this?” He glanced away and I noticed a tear fall to the polished wood floor.

  “What can you tell me about Kyle’s friends?”

  “I don’t know any of his friends.” The answer came too quickly.

  “Then you haven’t had contact with Kyle in a while?”

  “That’s… right.” He was lying, sometimes you can just tell, but the photograph I’d seen told me what I had to know.

  “No contact? Weren’t you two close after all those years living here?”

  “Not—not really,” Hayes said, refusing to meet my gaze.

  “Could have sworn Kyle mentioned you a few times,” I lied. I wanted to get some reaction out of him.

  “He’d never have mentioned me. Kyle wouldn’t—”

  “You two are about the same age, am I right?”

  Hayes nodded, wary of where this was going.

  “I guess I thought the two of you would have lots in common. Especially after living under this roof all these years.”

  “You don’t understand Kyle, then. He had little regard for family. His family of blood was a bunch of strangers he happened to be born into. He always said that it was the people he chose as his friends who were his real family.”

  “But you were in both Kyle’s families. You’re blood relatives, but you’re also good friends. Close friends. That’s right, isn’t it?”

  “Kyle and I—”

  “Are involved. Am I right? You’re lovers.” I watched his face as his carefully-constructed, serious expression melted into sadness and grief.

  Tears tumbled over his cheeks as he wept. “No one in the family knows. And I don’t want them to know. It’s none of their business. They hate Kyle. They all hate him.” He drew a breath and straightened up. He swiped at his face with one hand and looked me in the eye again. “I love Kyle, and he loves me. They’d never understand.”

  “Did any of them hate him enough to…?” I let the question finish itself. I disliked reminding him of the violence and the danger to Kyle, but I had little choice.

  “Maybe,” he said, his voice quavering. “We were planning to get away someday. Just the two of us. I almost had him convinced to do it now. But he didn’t think it was a good idea.”

  “Why not? Why didn’t you both get away from all this. Together.”

  “They wouldn’t understand. That’s what Kyle said. We had to wait so they couldn’t hurt us.”

  “Who?”

  “The family. Kyle said they’d have cut me off without anything if I left. Kyle didn’t want that.” Hayes paused and wiped at his eyes again. “Kyle wanted to be sure I’d be secure. He was afraid the family would try to interfere with his inheritance and then we’d both be left with nothing. So he said we should be cautious and protect ourselves. He wanted to wait and now…” Detwiler couldn’t finish his thought.

  “From what Kyle told me, his inheritance would have been enough for the both of you forever.”

  “You don’t understand. They’ve got lawyers. They can try to take everything away from us.”

  “That’s not all, though, is it?”

  “No. He—he was looking out for me. He didn’t want the family to hate me the way they hate him.” He drew in a shuddering breath, shook his head sadly. “Can I see him? Is he—”

  “Of course you can see him.” I stepped to his side and gripped his shoulders. “He’s not in good shape. He slipped into a coma last night and he— Just prepare yourself before you see him.”

  “D-do you think he’ll make it?” The despair in his voice was heartrending. “I didn’t get a chance to say anything to him before… And I wanted to tell him that everything’s all—” It was as if he lost steam and came to a stop, unable to say more. I put an arm around his shoulder.

  “It’ll be good for you to be with him, Hayes. It’ll be good for him, too.”

  “You think so?” He asked. The pain in his eyes was difficult to take, and I looked away for a moment.

  “He loves you and he’ll know you’re there. He’ll feel it.”

  “I can go this afternoon. Would—would you come with me?”

  “I’ll meet you there. Some of his friends will probably be there, and it’ll be good for you to get to know them.”

  We agreed to meet later. Then I traced my steps back to the grand staircase and went down to have a talk with the patriarch. Beck was nowhere in sight.

  Detwiler was still in the Library and told me he was preparing to have lunch.

  “Will this take very long? Brigitte hates it when I don’t have lunch on time and good help is not very easy to find, so I don’t displease her more than I have to.”

  “Just a few questions this time.”

  “There’ll be another time?”

  “Probably.” I didn’t give him an opportunity to object. “Are there any problems between Kyle and other family members that you’re aware of? Aside from the fact that none of you approve of his life.”

  “No. No problems that I’m aware of.” His rheumy blue eyes avoided my gaze. He was trying to hide the truth, keep family business private.

  “Nothing concerning Kyle’s trust fund?”

  “The financial concerns of this family are not public business.”

  “Not normally, but under the circumstances…” I paused to let him think. The message on Kyle’s answering machine indicated something was brewing over the fact that Emily and her husband didn’t trust the old man to handle the money. “I understand there was some disagreement about the administration of the trust fund?”

  “Not as far as I’m concerned. Some people are never satisfied.” His anger was barely controlled.

  “Kyle, you mean?”

  “Not at all. The boy never said a word about that. I must say I admire him.”

  “You ad—admire him?” I was taken aback, and that’s not something that happens often. “Pardon me, Mr. Detwiler, but I’ve only ever heard that Kyle’s family hates him with enthusiasm.”

  “We may not like his life choices,” he pushed away from his
desk, ready to leave the instant the interview was over. “But we’ve never hated him. Never. He’s family.”

  “Some things are not a matter of choice. Kyle may have chosen his line of work, but he didn’t choose who and what he is.”

  “Perhaps. But I do admire him for going it alone. He didn’t want a cent from me, even though the trust allowed me to distribute some of the money to him, if necessary.”

  “You’re the administrator, then?” I knew this, but they don’t have to know just how much you know. It helps them open up without realizing it.

  “Yes, and I intend to keep it that way. Those were Marjorie’s wishes. Kyle’s mother. She wanted me to administer the trust. Not her older son.”

  The last he said almost as a throw away. Maybe he was talking to himself, maybe he wanted me to hear. I took his lead. “Does Kyle’s brother want to administer trust?”

  “Trent? I don’t believe he cares. He seems quite content with his job and his life. He always agrees with Emily, of course. Backs her to the hilt.”

  “He and his wife wouldn’t mind replacing you, then?”

  “Emily has some idea that she and Trent together should administer the trust. What right she has to make any suggestions about family finances is beyond me. But Trent never argues with her about her ideas.”

  “Could they gain anything by removing you as administrator?”

  “There’s always a financial element, of course. Trust administrators are entitled to some small benefits. They can invest the money as they see fit to keep the trust healthy. The administrators can also take a modest fee for the service. I don’t, of course. Take a fee, that is. I don’t need the money, and Kyle will need every cent he can get.” Detwiler was silent a moment or two, as if he were trying to work something out for himself. “Maybe now, now that Kyle’s been hurt. Maybe they’ll stop haranguing me about the trust fund.”

  “You can always hope.”

  “They’re not as clever as they imagine. And I still have a few things working for me.” He stared at me and his eyes revealed a cunning nature that lay beneath the white-haired, gentlemanly surface.

  ***

  The drive to Philly was quick. It felt as if I were reentering a whole different reality after my visit with Detwiler.

  Once back, I headed for my office. The light on the answering machine was blinking non-stop, making me wish I hadn’t been so picky about choosing a secretary.

  I sat down, pen in hand, and started listening to the messages.

  There were calls from Luke wanting to get together, from Jimmy probably wanting to get out of work at Bubbles, from Cal no doubt needing an advance on his pay. There was one from Rose requesting me to do some investigating for a case she was prosecuting. That would bring in some cash for sure. A number of other calls were from prospective clients, making me happy I’d placed print and internet ads. The last message was from Anton asking me to meet him at the Village Brew and saying he “had information.” Anton enjoyed helping me on cases and loved it even more if there were a sense of intrigue or danger. Scheduling meetings in cafés to pass information created just the dramatic flair he needed. Since he almost always came up with good leads, I decided to meet him. And, to be honest, I enjoyed being with him. We’d grown closer working together on StripGuyz.

  Heads turned with momentary interest when I entered the café. I was just a new distraction and, after a second or two, they’d turn back to their laptops and coffees. Anton had taken a seat near the window. He looked edgy and distracted.

  I leaned over to give him a kiss. His fresh soapy scent was arousing. He turned his face to me and our lips met briefly.

  “I’ve got news,” Anton whispered.

  “Can it wait until I get some coffee?”

  “If you have to…” He frowned but then immediately smiled. “Go ahead.”

  “Okay, spill it.” I was back in moments setting my coffee down on the table.

  “I decided to do a little digging to see if I could find anything on the guy who stole the g-string.” He smiled knowingly. He purposely made me wait as he doled out the information bit by bit. He was an expert in the art of the tease.

  “And?”

  “I had a talk with some of our more shady customers. People I wouldn’t sit next to on a bus.”

  “You get anything for your trouble?”

  “I got a name. I’m good at worming information out of guys.”

  “Okay Natasha, what’s the name?” I enjoyed playing along when Anton toyed with me. His eyes sparkled with a mischievous quality I found attractive. At times like this, I wondered whether I should take a chance with him and let things play out.

  “It isn’t the guy, actually. I mean, it’s not the guy who snatched Kyle’s g-string.”

  “So what’s his connection to this?”

  “Seems this guy, the one I’m telling you about not the one who stole the g-string, this guy has a best friend.” He looked at me as if I should have gotten it by now.

  “And?”

  “And, his best friend is the one.” Anton beamed at me.

  “I guess I’m not getting it, Anton. He’s the one? The one what?”

  “The one who stole the g-string. You can be really dense.”

  “How do we know this information is good? I’ve seen you twist guys around your little finger. Once you get going, they’ll tell you anything just to keep you near them.”

  “It’s good information. Dane met a guy who knows the guy in question. They got to talking. Dane confirmed what that customer told me. So it’s good.”

  “Okay.” I was still trying to tell one guy from another. “What do we do with this, assuming it’s true?”

  “I have a plan.” His eyes sparkled but I was wary. Anton came up with great plans. Sometimes. When they worked they were good. When they didn’t they were spectacular failures. The time we tried rescuing Anton’s friend, an escort who’d been trapped by a client, was a stunning disaster. Some of what had happened couldn’t be avoided, that’s true, but the rest… I’d just as soon not get into that kind of situation again.

  “Okay, shoot.” I said. I could at least listen.

  “Dane’s friend will bring the guy, the g-string thief, into Bubbles.”

  “You think he’ll come back in after what he did?”

  “The guy is nuts. He told Dane’s friend that he actually wants to go back to Bubbles to see if anyone recognizes him. He wants to be noticed. He thinks he’s untouchable.”

  “So, what happens once Dane’s friend gets him there?”

  “I’ll get him to tell me what he did and why. People like him enjoy bragging. They love thinking they got away with something. Makes them feel they’ve got big balls. Even if he’s not that type, I can be pretty persuasive.”

  “You’re pretty good at profiling your marks. I’ve watched you work the room at Bubbles. But this is different. What if things get out of hand? If you seem too interested in getting information out of the guy, he’ll get suspicious. Right?” I worried that Anton might get himself into something over his head. “This guy wasn’t just some bozo out to steal a g-string and hang it on his trophy wall. There was more to it than that. What he said to Kyle proves it. He’s dangerous. You’ve got to think this through with me before you do anything.”

  “I’m willing to take the risk. I don’t think it’s as dangerous as you imagine. But I’ll clear every detail with you, I promise. And I’ll be careful.”

  “He’s unpredictable, Anton.”

  “I’ll make sure he’s off guard. I’ll get a couple of drinks into him. On the house. I’ll make him think he’ll be getting more than a drink if he plays his cards right.”

  “And if it all goes sideways?”

  “You’ll be there. Like you always are. And the bouncers and the other customers.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “All I’m doing is asking questions in a bar. Out in the open. The most he can do is refuse to answer and move on.”r />
  “He can do a lot more than that, Anton. He might be armed.”

  “We can have Kevin standing close by. Right?” He looked at me, still excited about his plan, but more subdued.

  “We’ll do whatever we have to. I don’t want you getting hurt. Ever.” I put out a hand and stroked his face. “When’s this supposed to happen?”

  “Tonight. Dane said his friend would bring the guy in tonight.”

  ***

  I got to Bubbles early, loaded with trepidation. I tried keeping busy with schedules and with setting up for the show. I stationed bouncers strategically and made sure every escape route was covered. Then I mixed in with the patrons, glad-handing regulars and greeting newbies, all the while keeping an eye on everyone and everything.

  “All set, boss?” Kevin, the tallest, toughest bouncer we had, was a mountain of a man. His clothing couldn’t conceal his bulging muscles or his broad chest. At the same time, Kevin was one of the best drag queens I’d seen. Tonight, though, he was all bouncer. Two-hundred-fifty pounds and six-feet-four inches of muscle and meanness.

  “As set as we’re gonna be,” I said. “When Dane comes in, you know what to do.”

  “I’ll be on him and his friend like lipstick on lips.”

  I smiled and hoped it looked sincere.

  A few moments later, Dane walked in with two men at his side. One was a friend of his I’d seen before. The other, taller man, trailed slightly behind and appeared somewhat uncomfortable. I peered at him. He certainly looked like the one who’d stolen the g-string. Things had happened so fast that night and he’d gotten away clean, so it was difficult to be sure. This guy’s hair was a different color and he wore more casual clothes than when Kyle was assaulted. But his face and his build were what I recalled from that night a few weeks before.

  It was him, or at least close enough to the memory I had of him from the night he snatched Kyle’s g-string. Dane had the night off and usually hung out at Bubbles. Even off stage, strippers command an audience and get treated like minor celebs. Dane was an audience pleaser with a following and quickly drew a crowd. His friend, the g-string thief, basked in the glow of Dane’s popularity and didn’t seem at all self-conscious or worried about being in the spotlight. That meant he’d be off guard and relaxed.