Murder in Hyde Park

by Phillip Strang

  ‘But it could have been an accident, the man falling in, the other person not remaining there; or if they had, not knowing what to do. Not everyone can swim, and early in the morning, a light mist, the water cold, maybe whoever it was panicked.’

  ‘We’re making excuses. We need whoever it is, then we can decide on the charge. The judge and jury can decide on the penalty.’

  ‘Terry Hislop’s a strong man, but Gordon Windsor said that the blow could have been inflicted by a weaker person. Mason’s not in the country, and Archibald Marshall is a lecher, embezzler, but we’ve no evidence of violence against him.’

  ‘Are you saying we refocus on the women?’

  ‘Them or a gay lover.’

  ‘Apart from the man selling himself in the past, we’ve got no reason to doubt that he was anything other than heterosexual.’

  ‘He can’t have been. What he did with those men would have been abhorrent if he was totally straight. He was bisexual at the very least. There may still be someone out there that we don’t know of.’

  ‘Any suggestions as to how we find out?’

  ‘Your policing friend, Nick Domett.’

  ‘I don’t even remember the man,’ Isaac said, conceding that Larry had a point.

  ‘Haul him in, give him the third degree if you think it will help.’

  ‘We could sweat Christine Mason, Wendy’s sure that she’s holding something back, or we could subject Amelia Bentham to a more intensive interview.’

  ‘Pursue the angle of another lover,’ Isaac said. ‘If we have something else against the women, then bring them in. No holding back this time.’

  ‘Not unless they’re Tony Mason with his political friends.’

  ‘I doubt if they’re friends.’

  ***

  Nick Domett sat glum-faced in the interview room at Challis Street Police Station. Isaac studied the man through a two-way mirror, still trying to figure out if he remembered him, whether there was anything from back then that could be used to advantage in the interview. Finally, Isaac conceded that the man was a mystery to him from back then, a mystery now.

  Domett ran a male escort business out of a seedy office, an impressive website as its front to the world. And there, clearly laid out, the fact the men were supplied for social activities, not sexual. It was a joke in that no one believed what they read, and that anyone who paid plenty for the men to be with them wanted them for affection, for sex. And in Colin Young/Barry Montgomery’s case, it had been both men and women who had used his services.

  Yet none of the women that currently knew him personally believed that he was gay or that he was bisexual. Christine Mason had been indignant at the suggestion; Amelia Bentham had adopted a more laissez-faire approach, restating that her sleeping with the man was purely physical, with no emotional content, and if he swung both ways, it didn’t concern her, unless her health had been endangered.

  Amelia Bentham concerned the team, even Wendy. Attractive, successful, a capable and confident woman, they would all agree, yet the unemotional reaction about the murdered man didn’t hold up. She had a cat in her house, a neighbour feeding it while she was away, which she showed affection to. And she was close to her parents. Wendy hadn’t said it, not to anyone in the station, but she had gone through a promiscuous period, and even if the men had not always been the most attractive, she had to admit that she had felt a degree of affection for them.

  But in the case of the dead man, Amelia held to her story of no emotional content. She had not even shed a tear over Matilda Montgomery. Upset and shocked at the time of finding the woman’s body hanging from a beam in her house, she had soon recovered.

  But Amelia wasn’t the person in the hot seat. It was Nick Domett, and he was edgy, barely able to sit still. Across from him were Isaac and Larry.

  What’s this all about?’ Domett said.

  ‘We’re drawing blanks on this case,’ Isaac said.

  ‘I told you all I know. What else do you want from me?’ The procurer of men for hire had a manner that irritated, a voice that was rasping, an open-necked shirt that looked as though it would benefit from a washing machine and an iron.

  ‘That’s the problem,’ Larry said. ‘Have you? Have you told us everything that you know about the man? You were able to give us the records from five years back about the man and who he had been rented out to. Too easy for us to trust you.’

  ‘I keep meticulous records,’ Domett said. ‘What do you want from me? I run a legitimate business, pay my taxes the same as everyone else.’

  ‘This is not personal,’ Isaac said. ‘You were a policeman, you know the drill.’

  ‘A man who I never met is murdered, and just because I employed him, contracted him out, took a percentage of what the man earned, I’m somehow involved.’

  ‘An interesting point you’ve raised there. Are you involved?’

  ‘This is in the realm of fantasy. I’ve got my rights, and unless the law has changed since I was a police officer, then I’m here voluntarily, and I can leave at any time.’

  ‘And we can follow up on what you said to our Bridget Halloran, check if you’ve detailed the sexual services to others that you offered to her. You must have disgruntled clients who were expecting a night of high romance and sexual ecstasy, only to be provided with a boring man who could barely maintain an erection.’

  ‘Satisfaction guaranteed, that’s the company’s motto.’

  ‘Don’t force us to check. Tell us what we need to know, and we’ll not get the vice squad to go through your records and your clientele.’

  ‘I’ve nothing to hide.’

  ‘Even if that’s true, it’ll destroy your business. Word gets around quickly, and confidentiality is all important.’

  ‘You’re right, of course. Some of my clients wouldn’t want the facts known.’

  ‘Then let’s go back to the dead man. You gave us names, one of which was a woman. Were there more? Who were they?’

  ‘Seeing that I was one of the police force’s finest…’ Domett said. He had a look of resignation.

  ‘The London Metropolitan Police would not regard you as that if you’ve been holding back,’ Isaac said.

  Domett ignored the slight on his character. ‘I never met Colin Young back when he worked for me, and that’s the truth. Quite frankly, the man was difficult to work with.’

  ‘Why?’ Larry asked.

  ‘He was good, and he knew it. He wanted more money than I could pay. The woman was the most demanding. She wanted him more than once, but when I told her the increased price, she backed off, called me a few words I’d rather not use.’

  ‘Angry?’

  ‘She’d got it bad. Sometimes the women, the men occasionally that use Gents for Hire, regard it as more than a commercial agreement, start to feel love. Most of the men that I use are emotionally drained, traumas in their lives. You’d not believe how many of the men that spend time with the women are gay, and they’re not into a normal heterosexual man-woman relationship.’

  ‘Nancy Bartlett, that’s the woman’s name,’ Larry said. ‘I’ve met with her, and she’s not short of money. Why would she have had trouble paying you what you wanted?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. Those with the real money don’t always throw it around, the reason they became rich in the first place, I suppose. Not that I’d know. I can make a good income, ten times what I did as a police officer, but I like to live well: good food, good drink, a better than average car.’

  Not on personal hygiene, Isaac thought but kept it to himself.

  ‘Women?’ Larry asked.

  ‘Ambivalent,’ Domett said. ‘I’m not gay, but I prefer to be on my own most of the time. If the need takes me, not that it does that often, I’ve got a phone number.’

  Let’s come back to Nancy Bartlett,’ Isaac said.

  ‘She met with the man on more than one occasion,’ Larry said.

  ‘It happens. The agreement is that if there’s an ongoing arrangement ag
reed on between the client and the escort, then the escort makes sure that I receive a commission.’

  ‘How many of the escorts honour that?’

  ‘What do you reckon?’

  ‘Zero.’

  ‘Correct. I didn’t know that the woman and my man had made a separate deal, and if they had, then what was I going to do?’

  ‘Accost the woman and the escort.’

  ‘Sure, I’ll make a phone call, and if the phone is answered I’ll let them know that contractually they’re legally obliged to pay me.’

  ‘Waste of time,’ Isaac said. ‘Is that all you can tell us about Colin Young?’

  ‘Seeing I’m here.’

  ‘Then talk,’ Larry said. ‘We’ve got a cold cell downstairs if you keep procrastinating.’

  ‘Six to seven months ago, I can’t remember the exact date, so don’t ask, I receive a phone call.’

  ‘Colin Young?’

  ‘Who else do you think I’m referring to? The man’s pleasant, he asks if we can meet.’

  ‘And you agreed?’

  ‘I had no reason not to. We met not far from here, a small restaurant. I can show it to you if it’s of interest, not that it will help you.’

  ‘We’ll be the judge of that,’ Larry said.

  ‘It was the first time I’d met him. I’d seen his photo before, and I’d spoken to him on the phone in the past, and that’s the truth. He’s a good-looking man, I’ll give him that.’

  ‘Beautiful is the word we’ve heard mentioned.’

  ‘Maybe he was. He didn’t do much for me, but if you say he was, then we’ll go with that description.’

  ‘Why the meeting?’ Isaac asked.

  ‘Bizarre. I’m not sure how else to describe it.’

  ‘Explain what you mean.’

  ‘He doesn’t ask for anything directly. We order a meal, he’s paying. I had fish, he had meat, and we shared a bottle of wine. I’m more of a whisky man, but he’s got the money, and I’m there with him. I’ll grant that there’s something about him. Normally, I would have eaten the meal, drunk the wine, made some small talk and left. But he’s got a likeable personality, the type of person you don’t mind spending time with. The same as you, Isaac, from what I can remember of you back in the past.’

  ‘I’m not the subject of interest,’ Isaac reminded him. ‘And you’ve been withholding vital evidence.’

  ‘The man’s agreeable, he wants to chat, asks me about business, and how he’s considering returning. We discussed the financial remuneration, and whether he wants it straight or gay.’

  ‘His response?’

  ‘Straight. He was adamant on that point.’

  ‘He came back to work for you?’

  ‘Not then.’

  ‘Why have you held back on this?’

  ‘I have a special clientele,’ Domett said. ‘You’ll not find them in my records. They’ll pay more for confidentiality.’

  ‘Do you know who they are?’

  ‘Strictly cash, brown envelope.’

  ‘Brown envelope? Larry asked.

  ‘An envelope, sometimes a parcel, arrives at my office. Inside, the money. Credit cards are never used and these people phone on a landline, so I can’t see their mobile number. There’s no way to trace them.’

  ‘We could try,’ Isaac said.

  ‘You could, not that you’ll get far.’

  ‘The dead man is back on the books, you’re organising clients for him, paying him what he wants?’

  ‘Not until four weeks ago, but there are complications.’

  ‘What sort?’

  ‘My special clientele, they’re men.’

  ‘And you indicated that Colin Young was not interested.’

  ‘He made that clear when we met before. But now, he wants money, and they will pay whatever I ask. He’s got no option.’

  ‘Did he say why he wanted the money?’

  ‘He said he wanted to buy a house, not that I believed him.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Too clichéd, I hear it too often from my escorts. But he was different.’

  ‘Explain what you mean.’

  ‘I couldn’t figure him out. He was an attractive man who could easily find himself a woman his age, and he was educated. No problems for him to make good money in London; not selling himself, obviously.’

  ‘He was involved with an older woman, taking money from her. We’re not sure if he was emotionally involved.’

  ‘It’s unlikely,’ Domett said. He had a smug look about him as if he was telling two serving police officers what they should have already deduced.

  ‘How many times?’

  ‘If you’re referring to how many times he was rented out to the specials, then twice.’

  ‘Any feedback from Colin Young about them?’

  ‘Nothing from Young. He took the money, that’s all. I imagine he was repulsed by what he had done, although he was willing to continue. The first of the specials hired him again, the second never came back.’

  ‘We need their names,’ Larry said.

  ‘I’ve told you already. Cash delivered to my office, an address with a time and date inside. That’s all there is.’

  ‘You have the details?’

  ‘Not on my computer.’

  ‘But you do have them?’ Isaac asked.

  ‘In a notebook, but you’re heading into places you might regret.’ Domett reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and withdrew a tattered leather-covered notebook. He handed it over to Isaac.

  ‘We’ll follow up, and you’re still guilty of withholding vital evidence.’

  ‘My life’s worth more than what you can penalise me with. I know the sort of people we’re dealing with here. They will not allow you to get too close, to blow their cover.’

  ‘We’ve met their type before. We know what we’re up against. Nick Domett, you’d better hope that what you’ve given us is the complete truth.”

  ‘It is. If you want me, you have my phone number. I’ll be keeping out of sight for a few days.’

  ‘An address where you’ll be.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll answer the phone, and besides, you’ve got my email. Once you start ruffling feathers, it’s going to become unpredictable. If you find yourself out of the police force or dead in the gutter, don’t come complaining to me.’

  ‘Or dead in Hyde Park,’ Larry quipped.

  ‘As you say,’ Domett replied. He stood up and left the police station.

  ‘Here’s where it gets dangerous,’ Larry said.

  ‘It’s also where we solve the case. We may have found the motive,’ Isaac said. He knew he’d have to talk to Detective Chief Superintendent Goddard about the latest development.

  Chapter 24

  Christine Mason held to her story that Archibald Marshall, her manager and now confidante, was no longer pressuring her for money and sexual favours. Wendy Gladstone had spoken to the woman on two occasions since the meeting at the Masons’ home, where Christine had finally told her husband the truth about her involvement with a younger man.

  The first time the two women had spoken after Christine’s revelation, it had been a five-minute conversation over the phone. That time, Christine had updated Wendy that she was staying with her sister for the time being as her husband was still angry, and she knew that if she went back to her house, he would be asking penetrating questions, questions she did not want to answer.

  The second time the women met, it was not far from the hotel where Christine worked. It was a good day, clear and bright, warm even. The two women walked around the small park, a casual conversation, no prodding from Wendy.

  ‘It’s Gwen,’ Christine said. ‘She’s starting to drive me crazy.’

  ‘Past issues raising their ugly head?’ Wendy said. She wasn’t surprised as she knew what had happened in the past, the illicit love affair of Christine and Terry Hislop when he had been courting Gwen, and she had been playing hard to get, and Christine hadn’t.

/>   ‘It’s always there, but we were never that close as children. Different personalities, and my being there with her in that small house; well, we’re starting to argue. Over the dirty dishes in the sink last night, can you believe it?’

  Wendy could. After Bridget had moved in with her, they had had the occasional flare up, always about the silly things: the cat scratching the furniture, the washing not out on the line.

  ‘I can. What are you going to do about it?’

  ‘Go home. Tony’s off overseas again, and we’ve been speaking. He wants to try counselling, not that I’m so keen.’

  ‘You believe it won’t help?’

  ‘I loved Colin, I can’t help that. If Tony wants me back, I’ll go, but I’m not going to be a changed person. It’s strange when you think about it now, but I suited Terry more than Gwen, and Tony and Gwen would have been a good match.’

  ‘Life takes twists and turns, but we make compromises,’ Wendy said. ‘Are you still holding to that story about Marshall?’

  ‘It’s not a story, it’s the truth,’ Christine said, but not so firmly as she had on previous occasions. Wendy noticed the change.

  ‘Sleeping with Marshall, the truth?’

  A pause before Christine responded. ‘No.’

  ‘Christine, you’re an adult, not a teenager behind the bike shed at school. This is the real world, you’ve children who have grown up, a husband who must care about you, and you still jeopardise your life.’

  ‘You sound like Gwen. She’s a good one to lecture.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘She’s not been the vestal virgin all her life.’

  ‘Tony?’

  ‘Neither of them knows that I’m aware of it, and it was a long time ago. I didn’t tell them then, I don’t intend to now.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Ironic, isn’t it? I’m an open book, yet others who profess piety are no better.’

  ‘That’s the way it is, not that it matters. What does is who killed your lover. We’re still considering Marshall.’

  ‘And me?’

  ‘Aren’t you concerned when Marshall’s pawing you that he could be a killer?’

  ‘I’m more concerned about ensuring he’s finished as quickly as possible.’