“That’s more than I remember. Where did you-?”
“First two victims. Gene Zalesky, Larry Exeter.”
“They were luckier. Those bastards almost killed me.”
“You recognize either of them?”
“No. I told you, I don’t-”
“Never saw either of them before? Hanging around The Dark Spot?”
“That type of breeder? No way.”
“Zalesky saw one of them, the tall one, outside The Dark Spot one night. Talking to Troy.”
Kenneth blinked at the name. The tip of his tongue flicked over dry, cracked lips. Belatedly, “Who?”
“Troy. Young, blond kid with an angelic face. Hangs out at The Dark Spot.”
“Lots of guys hang out there. Busy every night.”
“He likes to sit at the bar. Likes company, likes to flirt.”
“That fits half our customers.”
“So you don’t know him?”
“No.”
“I think you’re lying, Kenneth.”
“Lying? Why would I lie to you?”
“Because I’m Joshua’s old man. Because you don’t want him to find out that you’re not as faithful as he thinks you are.”
Unwavering eye contact. “Bullshit.”
“What’s Troy’s last name? Where does he live?”
“How should I know?”
“Tell me the truth, I’ll keep it to myself. Joshua doesn’t have to find out.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
Runyon said evenly, “Lots of people slip now and then, cheat on a spouse or a lover. I can understand that- it’s human nature. Forgivable. One thing I can’t forgive is cover-your-ass lying. I don’t like liars, Kenneth.”
The tongue flicked again, but the blue eyes remained fixed on Runyon’s. “Why all these questions? What does this Troy have to do with me getting bashed?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out. Troy hangs out at The Dark Spot, you work at The Dark Spot, Zalesky and Exeter are regulars at The Dark Spot. All three of you had sex with Troy-”
“Not me. How many times do I have to tell you I don’t know anybody named Troy.”
“-and then all three of you got beat up. That’s more coincidence than I can believe.”
“I don’t care what you believe. It was random… random bashing of random victims.”
“Because you want it to be?”
“And you want it to be something else-payback for imagined sins, queers getting their just desserts. Right? Homophobic bullshit. Joshua was right about you from the beginning. You’re a homophobe. Why don’t you admit it?”
All that in the same weak, calm voice as before. Maintaining eye contact. Stonewalling. Kenneth Hitchcock was the kind of man who refused to admit fault or accept responsibility for his own actions, would go to any lengths-lie his soul straight to hell-to keep his structured life and his image intact. Self-centered, shallow, small- minded.
“One more chance to be straight with me, Kenneth. Where can I find Troy?”
Faint, weary smile. “How can I be straight when I’m gay?”
Runyon stood up, turned away “Mr. Runyon.”
— and turned back to look at the man in the bed.
“If you say anything to Joshua about this theory of yours, he won’t believe you. It’ll just make him hate you all the more. You don’t want that and neither do I.”
“What I want is the truth.”
“The truth is, I care about your son and he cares about me. We’re not casual lovers. I mean it, our relationship is a lot stronger than that.”
Runyon said nothing.
“And I want you to know-I won’t hurt him.”
“No? Buddy, I think maybe you already have.”
Joshua was sitting on one of the chairs in a waiting area near the elevators, elbows propped on his knees, a bottle of mineral water on the floor beside him. He’d rallied some, now that Kenneth was out of danger, but he still looked exhausted. His head came up when he heard Runyon approaching. All in one motion, then, he was on his feet with the bottle in his hand.
“You shouldn’t have stayed so long. He’s still weak.”
“Yes he is,” Runyon said. “Very weak.”
“He needs his rest. What were you asking him?”
“Questions about what happened.”
“Then why didn’t you want me there?”
“It’s easier to talk one on one.”
“You didn’t pry about anything personal, did you? Our relationship? My private life is none of your business.”
Runyon had no intention of passing on his suspicions or his opinion of Kenneth Hitchcock. Joshua wouldn’t believe it, Kenneth had been right about that, and it would add fuel to the bad feelings between them, but that wasn’t the reason. Even if he hadn’t been forced out of the first twenty years of his son’s life, he’d still keep this kind of thing to himself. Joshua was an adult; adults made their own decisions and their own mistakes. He’d find out what Kenneth was when this gay-bashing business was over, or eventually in some other way. Live and learn the hard way.
He said, “None of my business, that’s right. You asked me to do a job, I’m trying to do it. That’s all.”
“All right. Did he remember anything helpful?”
“Not much.”
“Well… I’d better take him this water, make sure he’s okay.”
“Be a good idea to get some rest yourself. How’d you get here? Bus?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll wait for you, give you a ride home.”
“No, thanks. I’ll stay until visiting hours are over.”
“I don’t mind waiting.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Suit yourself,” Runyon said. “Couple of quick questions before you go. You spend much time at The Dark Spot?”
“What does that… No, not a lot of time. Now and then, but Kenneth isn’t comfortable with me around while he’s working. It makes him nervous.”
“You know a guy named Troy? Early twenties, blond, angelic face?”
“Troy? I don’t think so. Why?”
“Roundabout lead I’m pursuing.”
“Did you ask Kenneth? He knows all the Dark Spot regulars.”
“I asked him,” Runyon said. “He doesn’t know Troy.”
Gene Zalesky was home tonight, but not as friendly as he’d been on Monday. He left the chain on when he answered the door, said through the opening, “I have company. Can’t you come back tomorrow?”
“I won’t take up too much of your time.”
“What is it? I told you everything I know Monday night.”
“Not everything. Not about you and Troy.”
Thick silence this time.
“Better let me in,” Runyon said.
Reluctantly Zalesky complied. Nervous concern showed on his bruised and bandaged face, and his cynicism seemed tempered with resignation. No bluster or defiance, though, which meant he was going to be cooperative.
