by Chris Taylor
He was sure the deaths were related. There were far too many similarities. Both victims were white males, both in their early twenties. Both were gay men who were known to frequent gay bars. Both had been found brutally murdered, suffering from blunt force trauma. Both had been found along the scrub that bordered the cliff tops of North Bondi, a well-known haunt frequented by gay men looking for sex.
He’d run Peter Browning’s palm print through the system and had cursed aloud when he discovered they weren’t a match. Browning was their only suspect and he was now off the list. Unless they could find some other evidence linking him to the scene, he was free to go.
Jared had put together a press release which included a photo of Simon McLean and a request for information from anyone who had seen him that night. The print and television media had run with it for the first couple days, but then they’d moved on to other stories and the few leads that had trickled in had amounted to nothing. It was the same with the first victim, Howard King.
Both men seemed to have only a small number of family and friends, but that probably wasn’t so unusual. They were young, just starting out; both had moved to the city from the country. What was unusual was that nobody had seen or heard anything during the time the murders took place—at least, nobody who was coming forward.
Jared made his mind up to revisit the crime scenes. Bondi was a highly populated suburb. With a beautiful stretch of pristine beach, it attracted a lot of people. Bars and restaurants along the promenade were open very late. It wasn’t inconceivable that someone might have been returning home after a night out at the same time either of the men were being brutally slain.
Like McLean, King had been struck first from behind. The blow had knocked him to the ground, where he’d suffered numerous other injuries. Either the perpetrator had come upon the victims by mistake and had simply lashed out, or he’d lain in wait, knowing that sooner or later, someone would come along. The second scenario was so much more chilling. It sent a shiver down Jared’s spine.
Of course, the media were all over the gay angle and Jared couldn’t blame them. Both victims were homosexual. It was hard not to draw a link. Still, he needed to keep an open mind or risk missing important clues. Right now, without a viable suspect, he couldn’t afford to overlook anything.
* * *
Shelby stepped out of the shower and toweled herself dry before pulling on her robe. Dimitri wasn’t home when she’d arrived from work, so she decided to get a head start on her plans for the evening—an evening she hoped would end with her in Samuel’s bed. The thought filled her with excitement.
She’d gone all out with her toilette: shampooing, exfoliating and shaving. Her skin felt soft and silky and the moisturizer she poured into her hand smelled divine. When she finished speaking with her brother, all she had to do was get dressed in something sexy and she’d be ready for her date. She couldn’t wait.
Back in her room, she chose her underwear with care. The black lacy bra and panties had been bought for her cousin’s wedding. She’d worn them on purpose on the off chance she’d end the night in Samuel’s arms. Things hadn’t worked out that way, but now she was being given another chance.
Pulling on a T-shirt and denim shorts, she ran a comb through her wet hair and worked her way through the knots. Twisting it into a simple bun at the nape of her neck, she surveyed herself in the mirror, mostly satisfied with the results. It would have to do. Athena was staying over at their parents’ place for a few days while she studied for her bar exams. Apparently Shelby, Dimitri and Zoe were all too noisy and her sister couldn’t concentrate. Anyway, for whatever the reason, Athena wouldn’t be around to work her magic on Shelby’s hair tonight.
Shelby heard the front door open and called out. “Is that you Dimi? I’m in my room. I won’t be long.”
Pushing a few more hairpins into her bun, she spritzed on her favorite Nina Ricci perfume and then left the room. Dimitri was already at the fridge, pulling out a beer.
“How was your day?” he asked before cracking open the can.
She smiled. “It was good. How was yours?”
“Shithouse. Like every other day I spend in that place.”
Shelby gaped in surprise and alarm at the pain on her brother’s face. She moved forward and reached out and put a comforting hand on his arm.
“Dimi! You’ve worked in that firm for nearly five years! How can it be that bad?”
Her brother stared at her with sad eyes and slowly shook his head. “You have no idea, Shelby. You have no idea what it’s like to work for Dad. He’s not even my supervising partner, but he seems to stick his nose into everything I do. The latest thing he has going is holding out the promise of a partnership.”
Dimitri sneered and the bitterness that twisted his lips nearly broke Shelby’s heart. How long had Dimi been so unhappy? How long had her father been treating him like this? She wished she’d noticed sooner how miserable her brother was. She would have talked to him about it earlier.
Shaking off her arm, Dimitri left the kitchen and headed for the couch. Shelby followed him. Throwing himself down on the sofa, he took another swig from his beer and sighed.
“He wants me to get married, Shelby.”
Shelby’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “He what?”
Dimitri raised his gaze to hers. “He wants me to get married. He thinks it’s way past time. I’m twenty-nine, after all. Old enough to have a wife and family of my own. At least, that’s what Dad says. He’s sweetened the deal by offering me a junior partnership in Harton and Wentworth, but only if I find myself a nice Greek girl and settle down. Pronto.”
Shelby stared at her brother and shook her head in disbelief. “What has gotten into him? He didn’t used to care about this kind of stuff.”
Dimitri rubbed a hand wearily across his face. “I don’t know, sis. Perhaps he’s feeling his age. Perhaps he wants the opportunity to spend time with his grandkids before he dies.”
“He’s only just turned fifty-five,” Shelby protested. “It’s not exactly old.”
Her brother shrugged. “Who knows? All I know is that as the oldest child, I’m getting heat for not wanting to settle down. A wife!” Dimitri shook his head in disbelief. “You have to be kidding!”
Shelby moved toward the couch and sat down beside him. Studying him closely, she asked, “Would it be such a bad thing? Most of us settle down at some point in our lives. Is it too much to accept Dad might want to know his grandchildren?”
Dimitri scoffed. “Like you can talk. You’re only a couple of years younger than me. Why do I have to be the one who settles down? There’s nothing stopping you from getting married and carrying on the family line.”
“You’re right,” she agreed. “And one day, I hope to do just that. At least I’m seeing someone. I can’t remember the last time you brought a girl home.”
Dimitri grimaced and the pain in his eyes nearly stole Shelby’s breath. She moved closer to him on the couch and rested her hand on his arm.
“Dimi? What is it? What happened? Did some girl break your heart? Is that why you haven’t been out with anyone since high school? Does it go that far back?”
Her brother closed his eyes. Drawing in a deep breath, he let the air out on a heavy sigh. “No, Shelby, it’s nothing like that.”
She watched him, becoming more and more concerned. “Then, what is it, Dimi?”
For a long time, he remained silent. Shelby heard the sound of passing trains outside the window. Dimitri tilted his beer up to his lips and drank until it was finished. Setting the empty can down on the coffee table, at last he turned to her.
“The thing is, Shelby, I don’t want to marry a Greek girl. I don’t want to marry any girl.”
She stared at him in confusion. “You don’t want to get married? Ever?”
“No, I want to get married. Just not to a girl.”
As his words sunk in, her mouth gaped in disbelief. Shock ricocheted through her nerve endings.
“You mean… You mean, you’re gay?”
His gaze was steady on hers. “Yes, Shelby. I’m gay.”
She shook her head, her mind spinning. “How? When? Why didn’t you tell me? Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?”
Dimitri lowered his gaze and stared at his hands that were clenched into fists in his lap. “Yes. I think I’ve always been gay. I dated a few girls in high school, but it was really only because all of my friends had girlfriends. It seemed like the right thing to do. I even kissed a few of them. I always wondered why it didn’t feel more electrifying.
“Then, when I got to college, things weren’t so clear cut. There was a blurring of the genders, if you like, of the genders and sexuality didn’t seem so black and white. People were into experimentation and that seemed perfectly fine. I met a couple of gay students at a bar on campus. One night, after a few too many beers, I ended up in bed with one of them and all of a sudden I knew. I knew why kissing girls hadn’t been exciting, why it hadn’t turned me on. I was gay and I hadn’t realized. The first night I spent with a guy was the happiest night of my life.”
“Oh, Dimitri!” Shelby breathed, appalled that she hadn’t known. He was her brother, her confidante. She should have seen, she should have known. She was filled with anguish that he’d carried such a secret for so long.
“Does anyone else know?” she asked.
Dimitri compressed his lips and shook his head. “No.”
“You haven’t told Momma and Daddy?”
“No.”
“Do you think they suspect anything? Could that be the reason behind Daddy’s push for you to marry? Does he think the promise of a partnership might be enough to bring you back to girls?” She drew in a quick breath and continued: “Daddy was all over Samuel at the wedding, accusing him of being gay. Although he was way off base, I wonder if the thought had been playing on his mind.”
Dimitri offered her a slight smile. “We’re talking about Dad, Shelby. I’m sure he doesn’t have a clue. He was only grasping at straws, throwing things out there, trying to shock your date. You know how he is. It had nothing to do with him actually believing Samuel might be gay.”
Shelby regarded him hopefully. “You think?”
Dimitri nodded. “Yes, I do. For all Dad’s amazing intuition in the courtroom, his gaydar doesn’t even come close. If he had any idea, he wouldn’t keep going on about me finding a nice Greek girl. Hell, I think he’d be happy if I found any girl, Greek or otherwise. As for Mom, she doesn’t have a clue. As far as she’s concerned, her children are perfect and believe me, her idea of perfection doesn’t include being gay.”
Shelby mulled over his comments in silence. She didn’t want to accept them, but she knew what he said was true. The same went for her brothers and sisters. If she hadn’t realized Dimitri preferred men over women, she was sure her siblings were equally oblivious. She felt awful for not recognizing the signs earlier and being a support for him.
“I’m sorry for not realizing,” she murmured and reached out and squeezed his hand.
Dimitri offered her a sad smile filled with resignation, but he returned the pressure. “Yeah, me too. It would have been nice to have someone I could talk to, someone I could trust to understand. But don’t go beating yourself up about it. I worked hard at keeping it hidden.”
She stared at him, feeling awful. “What are you going to do? You can’t keep living a lie.”
Her brother sighed. “I’ve been living a lie my entire life. What do another few years matter?”
Shelby shook her head, appalled. “You can’t keep pretending you’re something you’re not—not about something as important as this! You’re never going to be happy until you tell them. Come out of the closet, live your life the way you want to. It’s not illegal, after all. You can’t help the way you are…the way you feel.”
She paused to draw breath and then another thought struck her. “Do you… Do you have a partner?”
Dimitri compressed his lips. “No. No one special. I hang out in the bars in Oxford Street every now and then. Occasionally I go home with someone.”
Shelby was appalled all over again. “Dimitri Gianopoulos! You can’t live like that! Do you know how dangerous it is? You could be going home with anyone! And what about disease?”
Dimitri rolled his eyes and a smile tugged at his lips. “I’m careful, all right? Don’t worry about me. And I don’t go home with just anyone. We usually chat for at least an hour or two over a few drinks before making any advances of that nature.”
She punched him in the arm. “You’re being facetious. Haven’t you been listening to the news? The media are calling the murders of those two gay guys hate crimes, like they were targeted because of their sexuality. There are a lot of people who can’t stand the thought of homosexuality. All I’m saying is, watch out for yourself.”
Dimitri’s expression sobered. “You’re right. It could be dangerous and I promise to be more careful. I’ll make sure we talk for three hours at the minimum and even then, they’d better be football fanatics or they’ll have no chance with me. As for going for a midnight walk across the cliff tops of North Bondi, next time I agree to it, I’ll be sure to invite you along for protection.”
Despite herself, Shelby laughed and then Dimitri joined in. She reached over and hugged him.
“Thank you for telling me, Dimi. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Shelby.
It was nearly nine o’clock when Shelby’s phone buzzed with a new message. Snatching her phone off the charger, she eagerly read the text. It was from Samuel.
U wouldn’t believe it, I’ve been called in 2 work. Can we try again tomorrow?
Her shoulders slumped. She was flooded with disappointment. After all the events that had transpired, she’d been looking forward to spending time with him. With a sigh, she headed for her bedroom to change. The lingerie would have to wait. Again. She sent off a reply.
Sure. Call me.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Dear Diary,
I’ve started on this high path of retribution and now there’s no going back. Nor do I want to. I’ve struck back against the abomination burning up our shores. It will take a long time to rectify the imbalance, but we need to start somewhere. I don’t intend to rest until it’s done.
* * *
Alexei Gianopoulos leaned back against the leather recliner in his basement and swallowed a sigh. For so many years, his life had cruised along on an even plane. He’d worked his way up to senior partner, he had a wife who still turned heads and children who made him proud. He had nothing to complain about and yet, just recently, his life had begun to go off course.
First it was Helen who’d started grumbling, complaining about the way he lived his life. They’d been married for thirty-two years. For almost all of that time, they’d never argued. Squabbled, maybe, over insignificant things he couldn’t even remember, but not out-and-out arguments where neither of them would give in. It wasn’t them and it never had been, but Alexei could feel a storm gathering on the horizon and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. If there was one thing he avoided, it was confrontation—which was laughable given his chosen occupation. Still, it was different in the courtroom. He was different. It was his job, his profession. It didn’t mean he wanted to endure conflict in his home.
Then there was Rodriguez. He’d started out with so much promise, so much allure in his midnight-dark eyes. Alexei had been immediately smitten. The man was young enough to be his son, but Alexei was drawn to him like he’d been drawn to no other. They’d met in a gay bar in the city. Alexei had spotted him from across the room. The music, the chatter of conversation, the hum of the traffic outside—all of it receded until there was nothing and no one, but him.
It sounded like some corny scene from a movie, but it was exactly the way it had been. Even from a distance, Alexei had felt a burning need. He had to have him.
And he had. With a little persuasion, R
odriguez had become his lover and Alexei had enjoyed delights like he’d never experienced before. For six wonderful months they’d been together, almost every night. It was heaven. Until it wasn’t.
The sound of his cell phone ringing broke into his somber musings. Glancing at the screen, he bit back a curse, tempted to let the call go through to voicemail. But ignoring Rodriguez wouldn’t solve anything. In fact, it was likely to make things worse. With a growl of impatience, he answered.
“Rodriguez, what do you want? I’ve told you, we’re over. I don’t want you calling me again.”
“But, Alexei, I don’t understand! What did I say? What did I do? You still haven’t told me.”
“I told you plenty of times, Rodriguez. You just haven’t been prepared to listen. I have a wife and family. They’re a big part of my life. You’re too possessive, too needy. I can’t afford to be caught in an indiscretion.”
“But, Alexei, you love that about me! You told me my confidence was one of the things that attracted you in the first place. I can’t help it if I want everyone to know you’re mine.”
With an effort, Alexei held onto his irritation. Rodriguez was right. As an ageing lawyer almost past his prime, Alexei had been flattered by Rodriguez’s attention and had been eager for more. But that was before his lover had become so demanding, so insistent they tell the world he was his.
As much as he wanted to shout at Rodriguez that it was over, that whatever they’d had once was gone, he erred on the side of caution. Rodriguez was young and headstrong. Alexei needed to handle him carefully.
“It isn’t that I don’t want you, Rodriguez, or that I’m tired of your company. I simply have to protect my other interests, and that includes my family.”
“So you’re choosing that stuck-up wife over me? Is that it?”
Alexei compressed his lips over the churlishness in Rodriguez’s tone. With a deliberate calmness, he offered a reply.
