cell phone.'
The spat with Sara had put Kerney in a bad mood, and Jack Potter's murder only added to it. He decided to cool down before going home, and drove to the South Capitol neighborhood where Fletcher Hartley lived. In his seventies, Fletcher was a highly regarded Santa Fe artist, a retired museum director, and an old friend who'd assisted Kerney in a major art heist investigation several years ago, during Kerney's tenure with the state police.
A colorful eccentric, Fletcher was a prominent fixture in the gay community and a potential source of good information about Jack Potter's personal life.
Fletcher's sprawling adobe was nestled at the bottom of a large sloping lot behind a beautifully landscaped, expansive front yard filled with hedges and trees that screened the house from the street. Situated in a neighborhood of older homes lined up in tidy rows, Fletcher's hidden rural oasis was the crown jewel of a charming residential area that still retained a small-town feel.
Kerney rang the doorbell and listened to a Beethoven piano sonata that flowed through the open windows of the front room. Fletcher opened the door, clutching a book. He wore his favorite kimono and a pair of screaming- pink silk pajama bottoms. Reading glasses where perched on his nose, which had recently been made perfect by plastic surgery. Fletcher fought the aging process by every possible means. In the past, his cheeks had been lifted and his wrinkles tucked to give him the face of a fifty-year-old.
Kerney had heard about the nose job, but hadn't seen it until now.
'I know,' Fletcher said with a smile, noticing Kerney's quick appraisal, 'I'm a vain old coot.' He turned to give Kerney a view of his improved profile. 'Do you like it?'
'You look great,' Kerney said. 'Sorry to bother you so early.'
'Pooh,' Fletcher said, smiling broadly at the compliment. 'You know full well that I am always home to visitors. I thrive on distraction. Come in, dear boy. Join me in the kitchen for a cup of coffee.'
Kerney sat at the large antique Spanish colonial table, where he'd spent many pleasant hours chatting with Fletcher, and told him about Jack Potter's murder. On an open shelf above a kitchen counter, a small menagerie of hand-carved, wooden folk-art animal figures-two chickens, a rabbit, and a pig-overlooked the scene.
Fletcher's cheery expression vanished. 'You can't be serious,' he said, his voice filled with dismay. He filled Kerney's coffee cup with a shaky hand and replaced the carafe in the coffeemaker. 'This is tragic.'
Kerney nodded solemnly. 'What can you tell me about Jack that I don't already know?'
'You can't be thinking that Norman had anything to do with it,' Fletcher said as he sat down across from Kerney.
'Norman is in London. He doesn't know what happened, unless of course, he hired a contract killer.'
'Don't be absurd,' Fletcher replied. 'This will break the poor man's heart. They were such a loving couple, perfect for each other. How familiar are you with Jack's private life?'
'Until he came out, I just figured him to be the confirmed bachelor type,' Kerney said. 'I've met Norman socially, but Jack never talked to me about any of his personal relationships or his family.'
'Until Jack met Norman he'd kept his sexual orientation out of public view,' Fletcher said. 'His love for Norman helped him realize that being gay was something to openly celebrate. As far as family goes, he was an only child and both his parents are dead. He is close to an aunt who is retired and lives in Tucson. Jack and Norman visit her several times a year.'
'Do you have a name?' Kerney asked.
'Maude is her first name, I believe,' Fletcher said. 'But I'm sure Norman will know how to get in touch with her, or Jack's secretary should.'
'Did he have any lovers before Norman who caused him trouble?' Kerney asked.
'He had a long-standing affair with a rather troubled young man whom he supported on the q.t. for several years. Jack paid the rent, gave the boy expense money when he wasn't working, and bought his clothes. It was a May-December affair. The lad was a good twenty-five years younger than Jack. It was also common knowledge that the boy was not mentally sound.'
'How so?' Kerney asked.
'He was in and out of the psychiatric ward for fits of depression and suicidal tendencies. When he was stable, he worked as a waiter. But as time went on, he became more unbalanced, less able to hold a job, and totally promiscuous. Jack had no choice but to end it.'
'Did it end badly?'
'In chaotic uproar,' Fletcher replied. 'But Jack kept it under wraps from the straight community.'
'Do you have a name to give me?' Kerney asked.
'That's a story in itself. The young man's name was Matthew B. Patterson. It's now Mary Beth Patterson. He had a sex-change operation up in Colorado six years ago. It made a world of difference for him.'
Kerney finished his coffee and put the cup aside. 'In what way?' he asked.
'Matthew was small-boned, almost petite, and very feminine, with soft doe eyes and pretty features. But he wasn't at all the swishy queen type. There was a woman hiding inside his body, and once Mary Beth emerged, his depression and self-destructive tendencies seemed to vanish, at least for a time.'
'Aren't sex-change operations expensive?' Kerney asked.
'Indeed. Jack paid for it as a settlement to the affair.'
'And to keep it quiet?'
'That also,' Fletcher replied. 'All this happened before Jack and Norman became an item.'
'So did the problem with Matthew go away?'
Fletcher nodded. 'Only to be replaced by the arrival of Mary Beth on the scene. She came back fully expecting Jack to marry her, which of course he did not do.'
'Then what happened?' Kerney asked.
'Mary Beth took on the characteristics of a hysterical, wronged woman. She tried every ploy to get Jack back, including stalking him for a time.'
'Did she make any threats?'
'Not that I know of.'
'How was the situation resolved?'
'When Jack rejected her advances, she mutilated herself with a knife by cutting her arms and then called for an ambulance to take her to the hospital. The doctors diagnosed her as a borderline personality. Jack paid for her medical care, sorted out her disability benefits, and got her into a group home for mentally ill adults. She met another patient there and fell in love with him. They've been living together ever since they moved out of the group home.'
'How do you know all this?' Kerney asked.
'Partially from Jack, but Mary Beth's lover is my new gardener. I've only employed him for a couple of months. His name is Kurt Larsen. He's much older than Mary Beth and suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder.'
'Where can I find Mary Beth?'
'They live in an apartment complex run by a mental health clinic.'
'I know the place,' Kerney said.
'I'm sure you do.'
'Tell me about Larsen.'
'Kurt is quiet but pleasant, except when something triggers his war experiences. Then he becomes agitated, out of sorts, and drinks heavily. When he comes to work sullen and hungover I always know that he's had one of his episodes. He's a Vietnam veteran, an ex-marine.'
'You've been very helpful, Fletcher,' Kerney said as he went to the sink and rinsed out his coffee cup.
'I'd like to say it's always a pleasure to assist the police,' Fletcher replied with a rueful smile. 'But this is so very sad. I must do something to help Norman get through this.'
Kerney nodded in agreement. 'I may need to talk to you about this again.'
'Of course, as you wish. But you can't just jump up and leave until you agree to bring your lovely wife here for dinner. I think it would be best to do it before the baby arrives and you both become totally preoccupied with the exhausting tasks of parenthood. Are you free Friday night?'
'That should work,' Kerney said.
'You must promise not to be called away on some pressing police matter.'
