Dan Sharp Mysteries 4-Book Bundle (127 page)

“Right!” Dan exclaimed, a little too loudly.

“Are you okay?” Lydia asked.

“Very,” Dan said. “And I agree totally.”

“Good.”

Hank stepped up the pressure with both tongue and hand. Dan felt himself getting close. “I …”

“Sorry? What?”

“I better let … let you go.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll keep you informed.”

“Yes,” Dan said. “Thanks very much. Thanks …”

“Talk to you when you’re a little less busy.”

The cell clicked off.

“Oh, gawd!” Dan’s body bucked as he dropped the phone on the bed and lay very still. Hank’s face hovered above him. “You are very, very wicked,” he managed.

“Said the bishop to the altar boy,” Hank chimed in. “Ba-
dump
!”

They showered together. Hank stood back, apprising Dan’s body as they towelled off. “Very, very nice!”

“Thanks,” Dan said. “You, too.”

“It’s been a fun evening. Would you like to continue at the bar? I could do with a little dancing!”

“I’m not much of a dancer,” Dan said apologetically.

“I can teach you. You know what they say: dancing is an art.”

“I don’t mind coming with you, but can’t I just appreciate it from a distance?”

Hank grinned. “I want to see you live a little. You need to learn to relax, Danny boy.”

Dan considered. “All right. But not too late.”

“Of course not. We need to get you back home before the Great Pumpkin comes calling for you.”

Zipperz specialized in music from his youth, as Dan discovered. He hadn’t been on a dance floor in years, but slowly he let go and began to enjoy himself. Hank bought him a beer. It was his third drink of the evening and Dan was dead set on making it his last. It was all a matter of self-control.

Not only had Dan not danced in public for a decade, it was probably the first time he’d danced with an alcoholic beverage in hand since his twenties, around the time he met Donny. He stopped to consider: it actually felt good. Hank was right — he needed to unwind and relax. Otherwise he would petrify, becoming a fossil before his time.

The lights rippled as the music enveloped him, reminding him of how much fun he used to have before the responsibilities and worries and everything else that dragged you down with time. For just tonight, he wasn’t that person anymore. He was free to be who he wanted.

Hank walked off the floor and returned with two more bottles. Dan shook his head, but Hank pouted. How many years since he’d had such meaningless fun? Dan wondered. He was flying now, his feet lifting with the beat pulsing around him. Everywhere he looked, people were having fun. Healthy, normal people were enjoying a night out with a little beer and companionship to tide them over. He could manage it, he thought. It wasn’t asking too much. And it was better than staying alone at home. He nodded and grabbed the beer.

Hank gave him a contented smile. The student was coming along nicely.

“But this is absolutely the last drink tonight,” Dan shouted in his ear.

“Absolutely! You’re fantastic, buddy!”

Hank gave him a thumbs-up and Dan drifted off to the centre of the dance floor. He could have done a back-flip out of sheer physical enjoyment. The man next to him glowed. Dan looked around in amazement at all those smiling, happy people pressed into one small space. He felt euphoric and wanted to hug them all. He turned to look for Hank and saw him shimmying with another man across the room. Others were coming on to the floor now. How could he have forgotten there was so much joy in dancing?

It was during the next song that he felt his pulse racing. It accelerated so quickly he wondered if he was having a heart attack, but then it slowed again. He stepped off the floor, feeling flushed. He waved to Hank to say he was going to take a break. Hank smiled at him and kept dancing.

Dan staggered to the bathroom, reaching out to the walls to steady himself. At the urinal, he released a dark stream of piss and watched in fascination as it discoloured the ice before flushing away. He felt better, but only momentarily. The heat and the pressure in his head were building again. He lurched into a cubicle and bent low over the toilet, forcing himself to his knees as he gripped the rim. The sudden stream of alcohol mixed with the remains of Peruvian fennel ragout were disgusting, though he felt immediately better.

Once he could stand again, he carefully exited the stall. Hank stood just inside the entrance, watching him with concern. Dan propped himself against the wall, taking deep breaths to quell the fire inside. A security guard looked him over: if this guy was going to give him trouble, he’d be one hell of a dude to mess with.

Hank put an arm around Dan’s shoulder.

“I think we’d better take you home, cowboy,” he said softly in Dan’s ear.

Music pounded in the background. For a second, Dan thought he was going to be sick again.
Wimp!
he thought. Not drinking for a couple years had rendered him a complete washout. The irony!

He let Hank lead him from the club then stumbled into a cab when Hank opened the door, all the while apologizing for the scene he was making. He tried to talk, but he wasn’t making sense. If he didn’t lie down, he felt he would collapse. Finally, he gave in and sprawled across Hank’s lap.

“Sorry, sorry …”

“No worries, big guy,” Hank said soothingly.

The cab took them to Hank’s condo. The driver scowled even as he took the twenty Hank proffered through the window. Whether he disliked drunks or faggots, they were both and his distaste was clear. The cab swerved off again.

Dan was a contestant on a game show. Someone asked him to guess the identity of the people who loved him, but one after another the doors slid open on empty space. He felt a sense of despair as he approached the final door. At last, it opened with a flourish. There was his son, with Donny and Kendra. Relief flooded over him. Better late than never.

Pain split his head like an axe stroke. He sat up and looked around, but he wasn’t in his room. The events of the evening started to come back, shadowy and vague. He was back at Hank’s condo after being out at a dance club. A used condom lay on the floor beside his castoff underwear. That meant they’d had sex upon returning, though Dan couldn’t recall taking part in the event. This was like so many wasted nights of his youth.

Hank was asleep on the far side of the bed. Dan dressed hurriedly and let himself out of the condo, embarrassed as hell by his conduct the previous night.

So much for self-control.

The house was dark when Dan arrived home. Ralph gave him a questioning glance, but let him pass. No use rubbing it in, his look seemed to say, though it stopped short of outright commiseration. Dan went directly to bed and slept until afternoon.

When he got up, his urine was nearly black. Something clicked as he stood over the toilet, propping himself with one hand against the wall. He wasn’t drunk. His first thought was food-poisoning. Then the other shoe dropped.

He stumbled to the kitchen. There were three messages from Hank asking how he was and did he need any help. Each one sounded a little more panicked. Dan picked up his cell. Hank answered on the first ring.

“How are you, buddy?” Hank asked on hearing Dan’s voice. “I was very worried about —”

“I’m all right now,” Dan said, cutting him off. “I wasn’t last night. Care to tell me what happened in the hours between leaving your place and returning home again?”

There was a pause. The line hummed between them. Dan waited.

“I didn’t know you’d be so susceptible,” Hank said with a nervous laugh.

“To what?”

“MDMA.”

“You gave me MDMA?”

“Just one,” Hank said. “I slipped it into your beer at Zipperz. I’m sorry.”

Dan was momentarily stunned. He’d heard of the dangers of mixing alcohol and Ecstasy. It was little short of date rape.

“What the fuck? What were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry, Dan. I just thought it would be fun, a little something to help you relax.”

“That is the stupidest fucking thing anyone has ever done to me.”

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“No, you won’t, you fucking idiot,” Dan raged. “Because you won’t see me again.”

“Wait, I’m sorry —”

Dan slammed down the phone, then stumbled back to the bathroom for a painkiller.

Fourteen

Run Wild, Run Free

His resurrection was a little slow in arriving. Dan looked like hell in the mirror, but his body was beginning to feel normal again. Whatever normal was. He ate a bowl of yoghurt, drank some coffee, and felt considerably relieved. He was just thinking over what his day might hold, in a productive sense, when the phone rang.

The voice on the other end sounded panicked, something about an unexpected phone call. It took Dan a moment to recognize it as Lionel’s. He pictured the accountant’s attractive features and tried to match them with this frenzied-sounding person.

“Slow down, slow down,” Dan told him. “Who called you?”

“I … I think it might have been that cop we talked about. The one who showed up at Yuri’s place a couple of times.”

Lionel’s breath was coming in short, excited bursts.

“Trposki?”

“Yes. I think so. Maybe. I only vaguely remember how he sounded.”

“Did the caller identify himself as a cop?”

There was a short pause. “No. He didn’t. I just jumped to the conclusion because of what he said about how I should butt out of the investigation. I assumed he was a cop.”

“It’s a logical assumption,” Dan assured him. “Tell me what he said.”

“He said I should forget anything I knew about the payments for bar protection.”

“Did he threaten you in any way?”

“No, not exactly, but that deep voice breathing into the phone telling me to forget this and forget that was threatening enough. He didn’t have to spell it out.” Lionel paused. “He said someone had been snooping around in the investigation and I had better not get involved.”

Dan felt the sting of realization. It sounded as though someone knew he’d been talking to Inspector Johnston. He recalled the look in Lydia’s eyes when he mentioned Trposki’s name.

“I’m sorry this happened,” Dan said. “I’ll look into it.”

They spoke for several more minutes until Dan suggested it might be better not to continue on the phone.

“It’s possible your phone is bugged. We need to keep you out of this to make sure you stay safe.”

“Yes, but this means we’re on to something. It won’t go away by having me hide my head in the sand.”

Despite the gravity of the situation, Dan almost laughed at Lionel’s gung-ho attitude. He recalled his comment that Dan’s work sounded exciting. To a mild-mannered accountant, it probably would. “Well, there’s brave and there’s reckless. We don’t want anything happening to you.”

“I appreciate that, Dan, but please don’t give up now. I want to know that whoever killed Yuri is caught.”

“Look, I’d like to come and talk to you in person. Is there a discreet place for us to do that?” An idea clicked. “How about a run? We’d be free to talk then.”

Lionel sounded relieved. “Perfect.”

They settled on a time and starting point then Dan rang off.

His next call was to Inspector Johnston. While it was possible the threat to Lionel had nothing to do with their recent discussions, Dan couldn’t get Trposki out of his mind. How likely was it that the investigation into police corruption had been compromised from within? Dan had no doubts about the chief of police. It wouldn’t be possible for him to sabotage his own investigation. It wasn’t even imaginable, from Dan’s knowledge of the man. He was as tried and true as they came. But Lydia Johnston was a dark horse in his estimation, even if the chief had personally selected her to head up the inquiry.

She answered on the first ring.

“It’s Dan Sharp, Lydia. Have you got a moment?”

“Yes, Dan. What is it?”

“I just heard from my client. He received an anonymous call warning him not to talk about the Malevski murder, especially as it related to bar payments.”

She drew a sharp breath. “What did the caller say?”

“Just that my client was to keep out of it. The implications were clear.”

“And what did you tell your client?”

“I told him I would talk to you.”

“Does he have any idea who called him?”

“He mentioned the name Trposki again.”

The pause was barely perceptible.

“In what context?”

“Just that he thought it could have been him.”

“Why?”

“Just a hunch, though I understand my client saw him more than once at Yuri Malevski’s home. When I asked you earlier about Trposki, you didn’t say anything about him.”

Again he felt the tightening, the withholding. She definitely knew something she wasn’t going to share, at least not with him.

“We are aware of Trposki. I can’t tell you anything else at the moment.”

The chief had told him she would be open with him. This did not sound open, but he let it pass for the time being. There were other issues at hand.

“Was my client mentioned by name at any point by you?”

She hesitated. “Of course I had to name your client when I discussed him with the chief.”

“Anyone else?”

“Not … really.”

It was the gap between those two words that struck him forcibly.

“So, yes, then.”

“Dan — I can’t tell you these things.”

He exploded. “Damn it! I gave you a man’s name and now he’s being threatened. Tell me what’s going on.”

“All I can tell you is that everything has been discussed in the strictest confidence. Yes, I spoke about him to the chief, but I certainly put nothing down in an email or anything to that effect. I doubt this call has anything to do with us or anything coming from headquarters.”

Dan’s head was spinning. His previous doubts about Inspector Johnston had increased exponentially. “Who else would know about it?”

“Someone might have guessed! He was Malevski’s accountant. It only makes sense we’re going to query him at some point about the money and ask him for details.”

He heard the exasperation in her voice.