Shadow Puppet

by Jeffrey Round

  They walked to the entrance. Reggie looked him over again. “So, you’re gay.”

  “Yes, as I said.”

  “Single?”

  Better to nip this one in the bud, Dan thought. “No. I’m married.”

  “Where’s your ring?”

  Dan groaned inwardly. “I never wear it on the job. Better not to give any outward clues.”

  Reggie seemed to consider this. “Like spies,” he said.

  “Kind of.”

  The idea seemed to intrigue him. “Cool. I get it.”

  As they stood there, the front door opened and a frenzied-looking man came in. Furtive was the word that came to mind. Drug dealer, possibly. Worried expression, beady eyes. Small frame, ponytail. Dan’s inner camera took shots. The man glanced at Dan and Reggie, brushing the snow off his jacket, then scurried up the stairs.

  “That’s the porn guy. His name’s Xavier.” Reggie glanced up the dark stairwell after the vanished figure.

  You’d be useless at keeping secrets, Dan thought.

  He turned and glanced over the tenancy list again. There, right at the bottom, was the name he’d missed: Star-X Productions. He nodded to Reggie and stepped out into the sunlight where a cold breeze hit him square in the face. Early winter and home-style pornographers, he thought. I’m getting too old for this shit.

  FIFTEEN

  Trolling

  “I WAS JUST LEAVING WHEN the pornographer showed up. He was seriously devious-looking,” Dan said to the three faces watching him.

  No one spoke for a moment. At last Prabin asked, “So are you thinking there’s a connection between Star-X Productions and the missing men?”

  “I’m saying I wouldn’t be surprised to find a connection. Sam’s apartment is in the same building. We know Nabil visited him there. It sounds like Joe is in one of their videos. Adam was an exotic dancer, so it’s possible he performed for them, too.”

  “You think this guy is making snuff videos?” Donny asked.

  “Trust you to go to the darkest interpretation possible,” Prabin groused.

  Dan considered this. “If he is, I doubt he’d make snuff videos and then label them with the company name. I looked up their website. From what I can tell they’re a small-time porn studio with a taste for kink. If they’re doing anything that radical, it would have to be distributed elsewhere. Online would be the best bet.”

  Donny turned to Domingo. “What do you think?”

  She shrugged. “What’s the saying? A fox doesn’t hunt in its own backyard. I think it would be too close to home to kidnap someone right downstairs from where you live.”

  “Don’t they say most violent crimes are committed by someone the victim knows?” Donny asked.

  “That’s true,” Dan said. “The percentage is even higher with sexual crimes.”

  Domingo sat back and crossed her arms. “Okay, I’m not arguing with you guys. I’m just here as a sounding board.”

  “That’s what we’re all here for at present,” Dan reminded them. “There’s still not much to go on, but Nabil operated his own sex sites online. And his diary mentioned that Sam asked if he’d be interested in making a video for some guys he knew.”

  “Well, that’s all very colourful and Maltese Falcon-ish, but I’m still not sure where it leaves us.” It was Donny who spoke. “Where is this Sam?”

  “I don’t know,” Dan said. “He seems to have vanished with all the others. If he’s still here then he’s illegal, so we can assume he’s gone underground. He was pressuring Nabil to help him with his visa. But he may have the key to what happened to these men who disappeared. I’d like to find him and see what he knows. There was also a mention of someone with the initial H who made websites for Nabil. I think that’s a guy named Hanani Sheikh. It sounds like he’s the go-to guy for fake visas. Nabil asked him for help with Sam’s visa. Sheikh also designed a website for Zoltan Mirovic. Mirovic is in charge of talent at Remington’s.”

  “I know Hanani Sheikh,” Prabin said. “He used to show up at the gym whenever Nabil got there. It was as if he knew Nabil’s schedule.”

  “Nabil called him a stalker in his diary.”

  “That fits. He was a creep. I got a chill the first time I saw him.”

  “Then he’s got to be our guy,” Donny asked. “First he stalks, then he kills.”

  “Possibly, but we don’t have anything to tie him to the others,” Dan said. He turned to Domingo. “What do you think?”

  “I’ve been considering,” she said. “We’re looking for someone who lives in the shadows. He’s a manipulator, but he operates from behind the scenes. This man is a master of disguise.”

  “Yes,” Dan said. “That sounds right. He prowls. In bars, in gyms. But always silently, invisibly. He’s in plain sight, but nobody notices him. That’s how he gets away with it.”

  “I can tell you this, too,” Domingo said. “The killer is cruel and arrogant. He thinks he’s smarter than everyone. He speaks of others with contempt. He likes to brag because he thinks he can get away with it.”

  “That fits with the profile I’m building in my mind,” Dan said.

  “He’ll be hard to track down then,” Prabin said.

  Donny nodded. “I should say so. Especially without a name for us to go on.”

  Prabin looked at Dan. “You and I could go out prowling in the bars and see if we find anyone suspicious. If he’s going after Muslim guys then I could pass.”

  Donny’s face took on an expression of horror. “Oh, great, you want to track down a serial kidnapper and potential murderer. And worse, you want to use yourself as bait.”

  “Dan would be there,” he said. “I wouldn’t do anything crazy.”

  Donny turned to Dan. “Aren’t there police officers who do this kind of thing?”

  Dan nodded. “There are. Better that they pose as human bait for kidnappers than roust the prostitutes on Church Street by posing as johns. Then again,” he reflected, “if they’re not really gay, they probably wouldn’t have a clue how to blend in.”

  “See?” Prabin eyed Donny. “They wouldn’t get it right.”

  “Forget it. That’s not happening,” Donny said, as Domingo and Dan traded amused looks over his shoulder.

  Prabin shook his head. “I can see it now — one of the cops gets groped while waiting for a beer and trouble ensues. That’d out him for sure. Have you ever seen two gay guys fighting in a gay bar?”

  “No, not with fists,” Domingo said. “But I’ve seen a couple of drag queens going at it with their tongues. Blood was spilled without a single blow.”

  Donny’s expression hardened. “I’d sooner face a drag queen than a serial killer. But I won’t have Prabin facing either of them, if I can help it.”

  “I hope we won’t have to resort to that,” Dan said reassuringly. “And for the record, I had breakfast with the chief of police this morning to ask his advice.”

  “Ah! So that’s your Mr. Big,” Domingo said.

  “Yes, that’s him. I might be able to convince him to put an undercover officer in the bars. There’s got to be at least one gay cop on the force. But for now, he’s got his hands full with catching Randy’s killers.”

  “Did he tell you anything?” Prabin asked. “Are they getting close to an arrest?”

  Dan nodded. “Sounds like it. He said they’re focusing on the two kids on the CCTV footage at the convenience store. So, we should give credit where credit is due.” He looked to Domingo. “You were bang on in what you said. Two perpetrators who were trying to score drug money.”

  “Just call me the Voodoo Queen of Toronto,” Domingo said.

  “Oh, she’s one of the Voodoo ladies, all right,” Donny said. “You don’t want her turning the evil eye on you! Back home, they’d be waaay afraid of her.”

  “In any case,” Dan said, “I feel reassured whenever you speak your mind. You might even have me believing in these things one day. What do you think we should do from here?”


  She sat quietly for a moment. “Just keep on sleuthing,” she said at last. “Something’s going to turn up very quickly. It will tell you you’re on the right track. Then things will start to get tricky.”

  As Dan was leaving, Ked texted to say he and his mother had a movie night planned. Dan stopped off at a convenience store on Church Street to pick up snacks. On exiting, he saw a young man on the corner. For one startling moment he thought it was Kedrick, but the boy turned and Dan caught his features full-on. They were similar, maybe even enough to be mistaken for brothers, but this young man’s eyes were full of longing. Dan recognized the look of someone wanting to be let into the club. A kid trying to come out and wishing someone would give him a helping hand.

  The only problem was, he looked Middle Eastern. How to cross life’s hurdles when your culture was dead set against them? Back home, he’d be facing death threats. Here, he might just get away with it if he kept it a secret from his family.

  The boy looked up to the awning of a popular bar as though to say, I’m thinking of going in there. What do you have to say about that? Dan stopped to consider what he would have wanted to be told at that age: Go somewhere else? Come back another day if you still feel strongly about it?

  No, that wouldn’t do it.

  At least these kids have bars, Dan reminded himself. There were no gay bars in Sudbury when he was making his first half-hearted attempts at coming out. Somehow, word got round that if you went to a certain place near a train trestle you might meet someone to have sex with. He had no idea how or when he learned this, it was just one of the devious things that kids shared, but it proved true.

  The first few times, he wouldn’t allow himself to get close to the men hovering in shadows. He was terrified, having heard that all queers were criminals and drug addicts. Still, something drew him back there. Eventually, the ones he met were kind and polite. He never felt threatened by them. But by others, yes. Like the gang of boys who came with baseball bats. Dan had just been approached by a tall, skinny man with acne a few years older than him when their conversation was interrupted by yelling and crashing in the bush. Two other men darted off, but the man he was with shook his head.

  “Don’t run,” he said. “They’re more frightened if you stand up to them.”

  He reached down and picked up a branch, hefting it for weight. It proved solid. When the boys saw Dan and the man at his side, they jeered.

  “Faggots!” one of the kids yelled, a scrawny ruffian with eyes the colour of dung.

  “These faggots aren’t afraid of you,” Dan’s companion countered.

  The boys circled and threw rocks, but didn’t advance. The stand-off held for less than a minute. At a signal from their leader, they ran off. It had been Dan’s first lesson in self-respect. And one he wouldn’t soon forget.

  He looked at the boy standing on the corner outside the bar.

  “Thinking of going in there?” Dan asked.

  The boy looked up, terrified. But he nodded.

  “That bar is for older men.” Dan pointed across the street. “That one is for younger people. Or if you go up the street to the 519 Community Centre, you can ask to talk to one of the counsellors about the gay community in general. It might be a better starting point.”

  “Thanks,” the boy said, looking relieved.

  “You’re welcome. Take care.”

  SIXTEEN

  Dangerous Things

  DAN HAD JUST ARRIVED HOME when Ked came in the door brandishing a DVD.

  “I let mom pick the movie,” Ked proudly informed him. “I didn’t think she wanted to watch Zombieland.”

  “Good thinking.” Dan grinned as Kendra walked in behind him, cool and collected, a fresh breeze wafting through the room.

  “I told him I didn’t mind. Woody Harrelson is cute,” Kendra said, “but he insisted.”

  “Argue not with the youth of this generation,” Dan advised.

  “So anyway, we got Terminator Salvation,” Ked informed him.

  “A huge improvement, I’m sure.”

  They settled in. The movie opened on a present-day execution before throwing forward to a time when machines ruled the earth, ruthlessly hunting down the last humans. They were so lethal, in fact, it would have been a miracle if anyone survived their relentless destruction. Lost lands, savaged hopes, the future of the human race heading for the dustbin. Ho-hum, Dan thought.

  Afterward, they tuned the TV to the local news. It was the third item in. Dan reached for the remote as Randy Melchior’s smiling face filled the screen.

  “That’s Prabin’s friend,” he explained as the volume swelled.

  The chief had been as good as his word. The newscaster detailed the arrests of two young people charged with the doctor’s murder. Grainy footage showed a pair of ordinary-looking teens, a boy and a girl, inside a convenience store a block from where Randy’s body had been found. Seconds later they left right behind him.

  “The suspects will appear in a Toronto court on Monday on charges of first-degree murder.” The newscaster turned to face a second camera. “Police are also investigating the disappearance of a man from the Church-Wellesley neighbourhood …”

  Dan’s interest was piqued as Joe’s face flashed on the screen. It was the photo from the poster.

  “… Saleem Mansouri was last seen at a bar called Zipperz in April of this year. Known to friends as Joe, Mansouri’s disappearance is not believed to be related to the murder of Doctor Melchior. Police are asking anyone with information that might help trace his whereabouts to come forward.”

  There was no mention of a Muslim connection or of other missing men. The chief was playing it safe. The newscaster moved on to a contentious vote at city hall.

  Dan turned off the television.

  “Does first-degree murder mean it was planned?” Ked asked.

  “Yes, it does,” Dan said. “You saw those two people leave the store right after the victim. What the prosecutor will have to prove is that they planned to kill and not just rob him. Otherwise it’s second-degree murder.”

  “You said he was Prabin’s friend?” Kendra asked.

  “An ex, actually. Prabin and Randy went to Queen’s together. They had just got back in touch recently after not seeing each other for ten years.”

  Kendra looked at Dan. “At least he can be thankful they got back in touch before he died.”

  “I don’t think Prabin sees it that way. He’s concerned that he didn’t make a better effort to spend time with him.”

  “And now there are others missing,” she said quietly, finishing his thoughts.

  “Yes, and they won’t be the last. From what I can see, these men are targets because they’re not properly integrated into the community. At the same time, they’re estranged from their own communities. They don’t belong anywhere.”

  “It’s not uncommon for immigrants to feel that way,” Kendra said. “Nostalgia’s a dangerous thing. A part of you always wants to go home again, to make peace with the past. I still dream of the olive trees in our backyard in Damascus. There was a bright blue sky over the city the day I left. The night before, I set my pet finch free. I put the cage out in the garden and let it fly away. In the morning, it was back in the cage. But I was determined not to be that bird.”

  “Will you ever go back?” Ked asked, watching his mother carefully, as though she had just revealed herself to be someone very different from who he thought she was.

  “One day you and I will go there for a visit. But it won’t be for a long time, sweetheart.” She turned to Dan. “Armand said when he went back last year it broke his heart to see the destruction and the people panicking as they tried to flee. He knew there was nothing he could do to help them. I’m afraid the worst is still to come.”

  Dan’s cellphone interrupted them. It was Prabin.

  “You saw the news? About Randy and the other guy, Joe?”

  Dan stepped out into the hall. “I saw it.”

  “They were pla
ying it pretty safe.”

  “My guess is the chief doesn’t want to alert the killer that they’re drawing lines and connecting dots. It might be better this way for now.”

  “I want to do something,” Prabin declared firmly. “The sort of thing we talked about the other day.”

  “It could be very risky.”

  “I know. I want to do it anyway.”

  Dan peeked back in to where Kendra and Ked sat talking. “It’s a family night here. How about we meet tomorrow to talk it over?”

  “Let’s do that.”

  “I’ll be in touch,” he said. He hung up and went back to the living room.

  Kendra looked up. “Everything okay?”

  “I hope so.” His eyes went back and forth between Kendra and Ked. Ked was busy tapping out messages on his phone. Dan hoped he was too absorbed in his task to listen. “Prabin thinks we should stake out the bar where the missing man disappeared.”

  “The man on TV?” Kendra shivered. “That sounds dangerous!”

  Ked’s eyes flickered over, registered “adult” conversations then flickered away again.

  “He’s adamant. I doubt anything could happen to him in a public place, if we do it. In any case, I’ll be there to make sure no one tries anything.”

  She shook her head. “Famous last words. And he’s not a trained sleuth like you.”

  “That’s what worries me.”

  “Be careful, Dan.”

  Dan packed up the snacks, putting lids on containers. He was standing at the sink doing the dishes when he felt a presence and turned to see his son’s eyes on him.

  “Why do you always have to get involved in dangerous things?” Ked asked.

  “I’m sorry if it worries you. I’m sure you know most of what I do isn’t dangerous at all. And it helps other people, which is very important. But if I were in the army or the police force, it would be a similar situation. Sometimes danger comes with the territory. Still, I don’t take unnecessary risks.”

  “I know.” Ked nodded, but didn’t look quite convinced.

  Dan felt shaken by his son’s expression as Ked turned and left the room.