‘Pursue the angle of another lover,’ Isaac said. ‘If we have something else against the women, then bring them in. No holding back this time.’
‘Not unless they’re Tony Mason with his political friends.’
‘I doubt if they’re friends.’
***
Nick Domett sat glum-faced in the interview room at Challis Street Police Station. Isaac studied the man through a two-way mirror, still trying to figure out if he remembered him, whether there was anything from back then that could be used to advantage in the interview. Finally, Isaac conceded that the man was a mystery to him from back then, a mystery now.
Domett ran a male escort business out of a seedy office, an impressive website as its front to the world. And there, clearly laid out, the fact the men were supplied for social activities, not sexual. It was a joke in that no one believed what they read, and that anyone who paid plenty for the men to be with them wanted them for affection, for sex. And in Colin Young/Barry Montgomery’s case, it had been both men and women who had used his services.
Yet none of the women that currently knew him personally believed that he was gay or that he was bisexual. Christine Mason had been indignant at the suggestion; Amelia Bentham had adopted a more laissez-faire approach, restating that her sleeping with the man was purely physical, with no emotional content, and if he swung both ways, it didn’t concern her, unless her health had been endangered.
Amelia Bentham concerned the team, even Wendy. Attractive, successful, a capable and confident woman, they would all agree, yet the unemotional reaction about the murdered man didn’t hold up. She had a cat in her house, a neighbour feeding it while she was away, which she showed affection to. And she was close to her parents. Wendy hadn’t said it, not to anyone in the station, but she had gone through a promiscuous period, and even if the men had not always been the most attractive, she had to admit that she had felt a degree of affection for them.
But in the case of the dead man, Amelia held to her story of no emotional content. She had not even shed a tear over Matilda Montgomery. Upset and shocked at the time of finding the woman’s body hanging from a beam in her house, she had soon recovered.
But Amelia wasn’t the person in the hot seat. It was Nick Domett, and he was edgy, barely able to sit still. Across from him were Isaac and Larry.
What’s this all about?’ Domett said.
‘We’re drawing blanks on this case,’ Isaac said.
‘I told you all I know. What else do you want from me?’ The procurer of men for hire had a manner that irritated, a voice that was rasping, an open-necked shirt that looked as though it would benefit from a washing machine and an iron.
‘That’s the problem,’ Larry said. ‘Have you? Have you told us everything that you know about the man? You were able to give us the records from five years back about the man and who he had been rented out to. Too easy for us to trust you.’
‘I keep meticulous records,’ Domett said. ‘What do you want from me? I run a legitimate business, pay my taxes the same as everyone else.’
‘This is not personal,’ Isaac said. ‘You were a policeman, you know the drill.’
‘A man who I never met is murdered, and just because I employed him, contracted him out, took a percentage of what the man earned, I’m somehow involved.’
‘An interesting point you’ve raised there. Are you involved?’
‘This is in the realm of fantasy. I’ve got my rights, and unless the law has changed since I was a police officer, then I’m here voluntarily, and I can leave at any time.’
‘And we can follow up on what you said to our Bridget Halloran, check if you’ve detailed the sexual services to others that you offered to her. You must have disgruntled clients who were expecting a night of high romance and sexual ecstasy, only to be provided with a boring man who could barely maintain an erection.’
‘Satisfaction guaranteed, that’s the company’s motto.’
‘Don’t force us to check. Tell us what we need to know, and we’ll not get the vice squad to go through your records and your clientele.’
‘I’ve nothing to hide.’
‘Even if that’s true, it’ll destroy your business. Word gets around quickly, and confidentiality is all important.’
‘You’re right, of course. Some of my clients wouldn’t want the facts known.’
‘Then let’s go back to the dead man. You gave us names, one of which was a woman. Were there more? Who were they?’
‘Seeing that I was one of the police force’s finest…’ Domett said. He had a look of resignation.
‘The London Metropolitan Police would not regard you as that if you’ve been holding back,’ Isaac said.
Domett ignored the slight on his character. ‘I never met Colin Young back when he worked for me, and that’s the truth. Quite frankly, the man was difficult to work with.’
‘Why?’ Larry asked.
‘He was good, and he knew it. He wanted more money than I could pay. The woman was the most demanding. She wanted him more than once, but when I told her the increased price, she backed off, called me a few words I’d rather not use.’
‘Angry?’
‘She’d got it bad. Sometimes the women, the men occasionally that use Gents for Hire, regard it as more than a commercial agreement, start to feel love. Most of the men that I use are emotionally drained, traumas in their lives. You’d not believe how many of the men that spend time with the women are gay, and they’re not into a normal heterosexual man-woman relationship.’
‘Nancy
