Charlie!
“That’s hardly a fair question, Lieutenant,” I said. “ Most of my clients are gay, of course, but I don’t make sexual orientation a qualification for accepting a client. Mr. Anderson is married and has three children.”
A smile as quick and as subtle as far-off summer lightning flashed across his face.
“Well, then,” he said, and I realized that not only was he not stupid but that I certainly sounded as if I were.
“So,” I continued, hoping we’d both forget that oh, he can’t be gay subterfuge, “exactly why am I here?”
Richman sat back in his chair.
“Because your client, Mr. Anderson, is dead.”
Jeezus H. Kryst!
I felt as though someone had just tossed me a forty-pound medicine ball and I’d caught it with my stomach. My total confusion must have been written all over my face.
“What happened?” I asked.
Richman gave me a moment to calm down.
“He was found in the bathroom of his hotel room at around nine-fifteen. The contractor working on his new stores had a nine a.m. appointment with him. When Anderson didn’t answer his knock, and in light of your earlier visit, hotel security went in to check. “
“What happened?” I repeated. “Heart attack? Fall?”
Richman shook his head. “Murder. He was hacked to death, apparently in the shower.”
“Good God!” I said. “Do you have any idea who…”
And suddenly my already queasy stomach dropped down to my toes. Phil! Do they know about Phil? Could Phil possibly…
Don’t be stupid, you idiot, that’s totally ridiculous.
Richman was quiet again for a moment, never taking his eyes off me.
“So, Anderson was not gay?”
I shook my head, more to clear it than anything else.
“Lieutenant,” I said, choosing my words as carefully as I could under the circumstances, “as I’ve told you, I never ask my clients their sexual orientation. When someone mentions having a wife and children, the assumption is that they’re straight.”
“And how did you come to Mr. Anderson’s attention?”
“He told me he’d been referred to me by a business acquaintance,” I said, hastening to add “but he never said who it was. However, part of the reason he wanted me to do the checking was because he wanted to give all the applicants an equal chance. He thought that if any of them happened to be gay, a straight investigator might let his prejudices influence his report.”
“And were they?” he asked.
“Were they what?” I asked. “Gay? Not that I could determine.”
Richman made a small, dismissive wave with one hand.
“Sorry,” he said. “A stupid question, and it has no bearing on anything. I guess I’ve found out everything I need to know for now.”
The “for now” wasn’t lost on me.
He rose from his chair, and I followed suit. We shook hands again.
“Thanks for coming over,” he said.
“Nice to see you, Lieutenant,” I replied. I was greatly relieved that I might be pretty much off their official shit list. He was sitting back down as I turned and left.
*
Jeezus, Hardesty! I chastised myself as I walked back to my car. Why in hell didn’t you tell Richman Anderson was gay? Well, okay, bi.
Because it wasn’t my place, I answered defensively. Anderson had a family; they don’t need to have their noses rubbed in the fact he wasn’t the man they thought they knew.
Like that’s going to make a difference now? My God, the man was hacked to death—not stabbed, you’ll note, but ‘hacked’—and probably by some wacked-out hustler you might have stopped by letting the cops know where they could start looking. Shit! Shit!
The first thing I wanted to do was to check with Phil. I knew he couldn’t possibly be involved in any way with what happened to Anderson, but I had to be absolutely sure. And he might possibly know something about Anderson’s sexual interests outside of ModelMen.
When I walked into the office, I didn’t even sit down before picking up the phone and dialing his
“That’s hardly a fair question, Lieutenant,” I said. “ Most of my clients are gay, of course, but I don’t make sexual orientation a qualification for accepting a client. Mr. Anderson is married and has three children.”
A smile as quick and as subtle as far-off summer lightning flashed across his face.
“Well, then,” he said, and I realized that not only was he not stupid but that I certainly sounded as if I were.
“So,” I continued, hoping we’d both forget that oh, he can’t be gay subterfuge, “exactly why am I here?”
Richman sat back in his chair.
“Because your client, Mr. Anderson, is dead.”
Jeezus H. Kryst!
I felt as though someone had just tossed me a forty-pound medicine ball and I’d caught it with my stomach. My total confusion must have been written all over my face.
“What happened?” I asked.
Richman gave me a moment to calm down.
“He was found in the bathroom of his hotel room at around nine-fifteen. The contractor working on his new stores had a nine a.m. appointment with him. When Anderson didn’t answer his knock, and in light of your earlier visit, hotel security went in to check. “
“What happened?” I repeated. “Heart attack? Fall?”
Richman shook his head. “Murder. He was hacked to death, apparently in the shower.”
“Good God!” I said. “Do you have any idea who…”
And suddenly my already queasy stomach dropped down to my toes. Phil! Do they know about Phil? Could Phil possibly…
Don’t be stupid, you idiot, that’s totally ridiculous.
Richman was quiet again for a moment, never taking his eyes off me.
“So, Anderson was not gay?”
I shook my head, more to clear it than anything else.
“Lieutenant,” I said, choosing my words as carefully as I could under the circumstances, “as I’ve told you, I never ask my clients their sexual orientation. When someone mentions having a wife and children, the assumption is that they’re straight.”
“And how did you come to Mr. Anderson’s attention?”
“He told me he’d been referred to me by a business acquaintance,” I said, hastening to add “but he never said who it was. However, part of the reason he wanted me to do the checking was because he wanted to give all the applicants an equal chance. He thought that if any of them happened to be gay, a straight investigator might let his prejudices influence his report.”
“And were they?” he asked.
“Were they what?” I asked. “Gay? Not that I could determine.”
Richman made a small, dismissive wave with one hand.
“Sorry,” he said. “A stupid question, and it has no bearing on anything. I guess I’ve found out everything I need to know for now.”
The “for now” wasn’t lost on me.
He rose from his chair, and I followed suit. We shook hands again.
“Thanks for coming over,” he said.
“Nice to see you, Lieutenant,” I replied. I was greatly relieved that I might be pretty much off their official shit list. He was sitting back down as I turned and left.
*
Jeezus, Hardesty! I chastised myself as I walked back to my car. Why in hell didn’t you tell Richman Anderson was gay? Well, okay, bi.
Because it wasn’t my place, I answered defensively. Anderson had a family; they don’t need to have their noses rubbed in the fact he wasn’t the man they thought they knew.
Like that’s going to make a difference now? My God, the man was hacked to death—not stabbed, you’ll note, but ‘hacked’—and probably by some wacked-out hustler you might have stopped by letting the cops know where they could start looking. Shit! Shit!
The first thing I wanted to do was to check with Phil. I knew he couldn’t possibly be involved in any way with what happened to Anderson, but I had to be absolutely sure. And he might possibly know something about Anderson’s sexual interests outside of ModelMen.
When I walked into the office, I didn’t even sit down before picking up the phone and dialing his
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