Little Boy Blue

52

‘You can’t barge in here like this.’

‘I didn’t barge in anywhere, Dennis. I rang the doorbell and your mum let me in.’

The mention of his mother provoked a visible flinch. Dennis was pushing fifty, overweight and underemployed and clearly had mixed feelings about living at the family home. Geraldine Fitzgerald was a slim, punctilious septuagenarian, who could now be heard preparing tea in the kitchen. Helen imagined she would do it the proper way – warming the pot, using leaf tea – and wondered if her domestic regimen was as meticulous and old-fashioned. Did she still ask her adult son to tidy his room?

‘Haven’t you people done enough already?’

‘ “You people”?’

‘We don’t do anything illegal, we don’t do anything wrong. You’ve no right to send spies to our gatherings -’

‘Well, if people don’t talk to us, what can we do?’

Dennis eyeballed her, but said nothing.

‘Everyone in the BDSM community says they are shocked by Jake Elder’s murder,’ Helen told him. ‘Yet nobody has come forward to help us. Which makes me wonder how deep their concern is.’

‘Fuck you.’

‘Careful now, Dennis, mother might hear…’

Dennis shot her another venomous look, but said nothing. The sound of clinking crockery drifted in from the kitchen.

‘I think you’re rather more interested in protecting yourself. You can dress it up as suspicion of the police, but I think it’s more about keeping your little secret safe. Don’t get me wrong, I understand that and I have no desire to make your life difficult so -’

‘How did you find me?’ he interrupted.

‘The BrotherHood website. IP address of the site runner is registered to this address. Electoral register has a Geraldine and Dennis Fitzgerald living here. It took one of our data officers less than five minutes to locate you. Hardly a secret society.’

‘And are you harassing the others too?’

‘No, just you, Dennis. Because you have something I want.’

Helen took the photo of Michael Parker from her bag and handed it to him.

‘Do you recognize this person?’

Dennis took a cursory look at it, then handed it back.

‘Look at it, Dennis. Or I swear I’ll arrest you for obstructing police business.’

As Helen raised her voice, the clinking of crockery in the kitchen stopped. Helen could see small beads of sweat appearing on Dennis’s forehead.

‘We know he’s got form, Dennis. Was this the person who hurt you? Is this “Samantha”?’

Dennis said nothing, but Helen noted that his hand was shaking slightly as he held the photo.

‘If you’re worried for your safety -’

‘It’s not that -’

‘Or concerned about giving up a fellow member of your community, then I’m happy to make this an anonymous tipoff. But a young man has died here and we need to talk to anyone who might be connected.’

Dennis’s mother was on the move now, so he spoke quickly.

‘I don’t know where she lives. But, yes, it’s her.’

‘You never went to her flat, a place of work?’

‘She got in touch over the internet, we only ever met in neutral spaces. Clubs, hotel rooms -’

‘Come on, Dennis,’ Helen cajoled, ‘give me something here.’

‘But I do know that she sometimes performs at The End of the Road.’

Helen breathed out, relieved. The End of the Road was a gay bar in central Southampton that specialized in drag acts and cabaret.

‘She’s a performer?’

‘Sometimes she works behind the bar, other times she performs. Calls herself “Pandora” when she’s on stage. To be honest, I’ve avoided her since… you know… but she probably still works there.’

‘And do you think she could be responsible for Jake Elder’s death? Does she have it in her?’

Dennis thought for a moment then gave her back the photo.

‘Yes, I do.’

Nodding, Helen took the photo from him. Right on cue, his mother appeared in the doorway. Thanking Dennis for his help and reassuring the curious Geraldine that there was nothing to worry about, Helen took her leave.

As she walked briskly to her bike, her eyes remained glued to the photo still in her hand.

Was this the face of their killer?