Larry wasn’t naive, but it was a subject he preferred to read about, not hear about, and not in the jargon used by a former police inspector. The man’s alibi was watertight and he wasn’t ashamed of what had occurred.
The third man, Justin Grinstead, no more than Colin Young’s age, was someone who sat behind a computer screen all day, playing video games.
‘I’m a nerd,’ he said.
‘You must need money?’ Larry said, looking around him at the discarded packets of crisps, the empty pizza boxes, the general mayhem. Outside the house, it had looked fine, the home of successful people. Inside, decay.
‘My parents died young, left me this house.’
‘When was the last time you left it?’
‘Three weeks. No reason to go out. Order everything online, pay someone to put the rubbish bin out.’
‘And clean the house?’
‘Sometimes, a lady comes in, but she doesn’t come often.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘She doesn’t like me, I don’t like her. Mutual hate and she thinks I stink. I don’t, do I, Inspector?’
‘Tell me about Colin Young.’
‘Who?’
‘Five years ago. A man described as beautiful by more than one person. A person you ordered online.’
‘That’s a long time ago, a few video games in the past.’
‘An addiction?’ Larry asked, aware that his son enjoyed video games to the detriment of his studies. There had been a minor disturbance in the Hill household when a computer expert from a local IT shop had come in and put blockers on disturbing sites that were not conducive to the upbringing of a child approaching adolescence. The games had all been deleted as well. But the expert had said, ‘He’ll find a workaround in a couple of weeks.’
‘According to you, it is,’ Grinstead said.
An unpleasant, insular individual, Larry realised. ‘You’ve used a company called Gents for Hire?’
‘I may have. What’s it to you?’
‘To me, nothing. I’m from Homicide. A man that you paid for using your credit card has been murdered. And I don’t need graphic detail; I’ve already had that today. Now, do you remember him or do I have to pull the plug on your computer.’
‘I’ve got it backed up.’
Larry walked over to the computer monitor and pressed the off switch.
‘You can’t do that.’
‘I can, and I have. Now, do you remember the man in question?’
‘Vaguely. That’s it, nothing more.’
‘You are obviously intelligent, yet “vaguely” is the best you can come up with?’
‘There’s thousands online, no need to rent them. Virtual reality, streaming internet; it’s wonderful.’
Larry felt sickened by the man and what he was describing.
***
‘I remember him well enough,’ the owner of the final name on the list supplied by Domett said. The woman lived well, Larry could see that. She was attractive, in her fifties, older than Christine Mason. It was clear that money was not a factor in her life, judging by the antiques and the oil paintings in the penthouse flat.
‘I was keen on him,’ Nancy Bartlett continued. ‘He’d come here sometimes, other times we’d go away for a couple of days in the country.’
‘Romantic weekend?’ Larry asked. He appreciated the woman’s openness.
‘With Colin, guaranteed. Tell me why you’re here, and then I’ll give you the full story. A beer, wine?’
‘I’m on duty. I should keep to non-alcoholic.’
‘You’re not in the army. I’ll fetch two beers for us.’
After both had sipped their beers for a few minutes, Larry spoke. ‘I’m from Homicide.’
‘I know that,’ Nancy said. ‘It’s on the card you gave me. Is he dead?’
‘Murdered.’
‘The body in the Serpentine? I read about it, thought that there was a possibility that it could be him.’
‘But you didn’t come forward.’
‘I don’t see how I could have helped. He was a man who brought out strong emotions in people. Some would feel love; others, hatred and anger.’
‘You’re a perceptive woman,’ Larry said. ‘What do you reckon happened?’
‘I met him through an agency. We hit it off, had a great time, and for a while I thought that he cared.’
‘But he didn’t?’
‘Outwardly, beautiful and charming, but inside, dark secrets, a coldness.’
‘How long did it last?’
‘Three months, maybe four. And then the occasional meeting, coming back to here, but I had grown tired of it by then.’
‘Why?’
‘Marriage and fidelity never suited me, but I’m not without passion. Colin supplied it for a while, and then he was gone.’
‘You missed him?’
‘Not that much. Business was thriving, I was travelling a lot, and there was always another business deal to handle, another issue to resolve. Since him, the occasional man, but nothing more.’
‘You mentioned others who could be moved to hatred and anger.’
‘I couldn’t have harmed him, but who knows about others.’
‘Anyone that you had rejected in favour of the man?’
‘There have been some who have attempted to lay claim to me, but I always pushed them to one side. Colin asked for nothing.’
‘Money?’
‘I gave him some. Gifts though, nothing more. Apart from paying the agency that first time, our relationship was based on mutual respect. I suppose you’d call me a sugar mummy.’
‘Let’s come back to those who hated him. There must have been some people that you know who would have been shocked by your behaviour.’
‘If they were, I don’t care. Most weren’t though. If you’re rich, a different set of rules apply, a different morality.’
Larry had another beer, as did Nancy Bartlett. He was enjoying himself when he shouldn’t have been. He drew the line at the third beer and left the flat.
The woman had been open and appeared genuine in her views on love and life, but Colin Young/Barry Montgomery drew out strong emotions in people. Was it
