Believing the Lie

body part, and sometimes it was the real thing. Sometimes they wanted a face included in the picture. Sometimes they didn’t. A pout was good. So was something Toy4You referred to as a you-can-have-it look. Make a stiffie for the camera, and it was even better. Certain people would pay a good sum of money for a picture of a boy, a pout, desire in the eyes, and a decent stiffie as well.

Tim had gone along. He, after all, had been the one to start this ball rolling towards its destination. But money wasn’t what he’d wanted. He’d wanted action and so far that action had been denied him. That was going to change.

Toy4You had followed him into the back room. He said to Tim, “You need to leave. I can’t have you here.”

Tim said, “I already told you. Call your friend or whoever it is. Tell him I’m ready. Tell him to get down here. We’re doing the pictures now.”

“He’s not about to do that. No fourteen-year-old tells him how to run his affairs. He tells us when the time is right. We don’t tell him. What is it about this that you don’t understand?”

“I don’t have the time,” Tim protested. “The time is now. I’m not waiting any longer. If you want me doing it with some bloke, then this is your chance because you’re not getting another.”

“That’s the way it is, then,” Toy4You said with a shrug. “Now get out.”

“What? You think you’ll find someone else to do it? You think it’ll be that easy?”

“There are always kids looking for money,” he said.

“For a picture, maybe. They’ll take your money for a picture. They’ll stand there naked and maybe they’ll even do it hard. But the rest? You think someone’ll do the rest? Someone besides me?”

“And you think you’re the only one who’s found me online? You think this is a bit of work I’ve just taken up recently for my health or something? You think you’re the first? The one and only? There’re dozens of you out there and they’re willing to do it the way I want it done because they want the money. They don’t make the rules, they follow the rules. And one of the rules is that they don’t show up — this is twice now, you little bugger — and make demands.”

Toy4You had been standing among the supplies, but he came forward as he spoke. He wasn’t big and Tim had always reckoned he could take him down if that was going to be necessary, but when the man grabbed him by the arm, Tim felt a strength emanating from him that he hadn’t suspected was there.

“I don’t play games,” Toy4You told him. “I don’t get manipulated by little bits of boy-ass like you.”

“We had a deal and — ”

“Bugger your deal. It’s over. It’s off.”

“You promised. You said.”

“I don’t need this shit.”

Toy4You jerked him, hard. Tim saw that he meant to eject him from the premises. That couldn’t happen. He’d worked too hard and he’d done too much. He pulled away.

He cried, “No! I want it to happen, and I want it now,” and he began to tear at his clothes. He pulled off his anorak, his heavy sweater. Buttons flew from his shirt as he ripped it off. He began to shout. “You promised. If you don’t do it, I’ll go to the cops. I swear. I will. I’ll tell them. What I did. What you want. The pictures. Your friends. How to find you. It’s all on my computer and they’ll know and — ”

“Shut up! Shut up!” Toy4You looked back over his shoulder, in the direction of the shop. He strode to the doorway that had brought them both into the back room and he slammed it shut. He returned to Tim. He said, “Christ, calm down. All right. But it can’t happen now. Can’t you get that?”

“I want… I swear… The cops’ll come.”

“All right. The cops. I get it. I believe you. Just calm the fuck down. Look. I’m going to make the call. Now. In front of you. I’ll set it up for tomorrow. We’ll do the pictures then.” He appeared to think for a moment, then he looked Tim over. He said, “It’ll be film, though. Live action. And all the way this time. You understand?”

“But you said — ”

“I’m taking a risk here!” Toy4You roared. “You’ll make it worth my while. Do you want it or not?”

Tim flinched, cowed. But he knew fear only for a moment before he said, “I want it.”

“Good. Two blokes as well. Do… you… get… it? You and two blokes and the real thing, live on film. Do you know what that means? Because no way in hell are we starting this and finding out midway that you’ve changed your mind. You and two blokes. Say you understand.”

Tim licked his lips. “Me and two blokes. I understand.”

Toy4You looked him over, as if expecting something to ooze from his pores that would indicate the future. Tim stood his ground. Toy4You nodded sharply and punched in some numbers on the phone.

Tim said, “And after… when it’s over… you promise…”

“I promise. When it’s over, you die. Just like you want it. However you want it. You get to make the rules for that.”

10 NOVEMBER

MILNTHORPE CUMBRIA

When Lynley phoned her early in the morning, he was clever enough to ring the inn and not her mobile. Because of this, Deborah answered. Simon or Tommy, she’d reckoned, would ring the mobile. She’d see the caller’s number and decide whether to answer or not. Even the reporter from The Source rang her mobile. A call on the phone inside her hotel room meant Reception was probably enquiring about the length of her stay.

Thus, Deborah winced as Lynley’s pleasant baritone came over the line. When he said, “Simon’s not happy with either of us,” she could hardly pretend he’d phoned the wrong number.

It was quite early, and she was still in bed. Clever Tommy to have thought of that as well: Catch her before she left the inn, and there was little she could do to avoid him.

She sat up, pulled the blankets closer against the chill, and said as she rearranged the pillows, “Well, I’m not happy with Simon, either.”

“Right. I know. But as it happens, he was correct, Deb. From the start.”

“Oh, isn’t he always?” she said tartly. “What are we talking about anyway?”

“Ian Cresswell’s death. He could have prevented it if he’d been paying closer attention to where he was tying up his scull that night.”

“And we’ve reached this conclusion because…?” Deborah waited to hear him say he’d reached his conclusion because of Simon’s insufferably logical presentation of the facts, but he didn’t go in that direction. Instead he told her about a family imbroglio he’d witnessed among the Faircloughs and a conversation he’d had with Valerie Fairclough afterwards.

He concluded it all with, “So it seems I’ve been brought up here as a means of Valerie’s delving into her husband’s doings. It was a fool’s errand with me as the fool. Hillier as well. I daresay he’s not going to be happy when I tell him how we’ve both been used.”

Deborah shoved off the blankets, swung her legs over the side of the bed, and looked at the clock. She said, “And you believe her?” as she read the time. A phone call from Tommy at six thirty in the morning could mean only one thing and she was fairly certain she knew what that was.

He said, “In the ordinary course of things, I might not. But with the coroner’s conclusion and with Simon’s assessment, along with what Valerie told me — ”