All the Colors of Darkness

“What was he like before?”

Maria paused, then she said, “I wouldn’t say he was unhappy, but he was definitely more restless and superficial. He lived for his work, and I also got the impression that he was doing the rounds—you know, going through the motions, sexually, like, but that he wasn’t very happy. Don’t get me wrong. On the surface he was always cheerful and had a kind word for everyone. But deep down I think he was very unhappy and unfulfilled in his life until he met Laurence.”

“For God’s sake,” said Ross. Then he turned to Annie. “You’ll have to forgive Maria,” he said. “She’s our resident romantic.”

Maria blushed, with equal parts of anger and embarrassment, Annie guessed. “I can forgive her that,” she said to Ross, then turned to Maria again. “Did he talk much about this relationship?”

“Not in any sort of detail. He was just more . . . comfortable, more settled, relaxed than I’d seen him before.”

“Until recently?”

“Yes.”

“Did you ever meet Laurence?”

A L L T H E C O L O R S O F D A R K N E S S

1 9

“A few times, when he came to the theater.”

“Could you describe him?”

“About six foot, handsome, a bit sort of upper class. Dark hair with a touch of gray at the temples. Slender, athletic. Very charming, but rather remote. Maybe a bit of a snob. You know, a sort of public school type, to the manor born.”

“Do you know what Laurence does? What his job is?”

“Mark never mentioned anything. I think he might be retired. Or maybe he buys and sells antiques, works of art, something like that.”

“How old?”

“Early fifties, I’d say.”

“Do you know where he lives? We really need to find him.”

“Sorry,” said Maria. “I don’t know. I think he’s fairly well off, though, at least his mother is, so he’s probably got a posh house. I know Mark was spending more and more time with him. I mean, they were practically living together.”

Annie saw Winsome make a note of that. “This change you noticed in Mr. Hardcastle lately,” she went on. “Can you tell me a bit more about it?”

“He’d just been a bit moody this past couple of weeks, that’s all,”

Maria said. “He shouted at me once for putting a table in the wrong place on the stage. He never usually does that.”

“When was this?”

“I don’t remember exactly. Maybe about ten days ago.”

Vernon Ross glared at Maria as if she were betraying state secrets.

“Lovers’ tiff, I should imagine,” he said.

“Lasting two weeks?” Annie said.

Ross gave Maria another stern look. “It didn’t appear serious at the time,” he said. “Maria did position that table in the wrong place. It was a silly mistake. It would have put the actor completely off his timing.

But that was all. It wasn’t that serious. Mark was just in a bad mood. It happens to all of us. There was nothing that would drive him to suicide, for crying out loud.”

“If he did commit suicide,” said Annie. “Do you have any idea what it was all about, Mr. Ross?”

“Me? No.”

2 0 P E T E R

R O B I N S O N

“Do any of you know if Mr. Hardcastle did have anyone he was close to, outside the theater scene? Someone he might have talked to, shared his problems with. Other than Derek Wyman.”

No one said anything.

“Anyone know where he was from?”

“Barnsley,” said Maria.

“How do you know that?”

“He made jokes about it, said he had to support the local football team when he was growing up, or people would think he was a puff.

Naturally, it came up when Barnsley got to Wembley for the FA Cup semifinal and everyone was talking about them beating Liverpool and Chelsea. Pity they didn’t go all the way. And Mark mentioned his dad once. Said he worked down the pit. I got the impression it was a tough place to grow up gay.”