The Old Men's Sex Club Murders Read online

  “I would guess that’s true. And he must have sneaked it into the locker ahead of time. I mean you saw no hint of it before he pulled it out, right?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “I’m sorry we didn’t question him more. Ask him who he thought murdered Harvey.”

  “The state he was in—I don’t think it would have done any good, Paul.”

  “Maybe not. But he did know that you and I are investigating the killing. I mean the fewer people who know the better, so far as our really being able to investigate. And if one person knows, one member—most are going to know.”

  “Like the old game ‘gossip.’”

  “Except in the game everything gets twisted, and the end result usually is far from what the first person said.”

  “Maybe that’s true in this situation too,” Rob answered. “That everything’s gotten twisted, and that’s why Smithton reacted, as he did.”

  “Don’t know, though I’m not sure he was sincere when he wanted to shake hands.”

  “Like someone playing a role, right?”

  “Exactly.”

  They decided to wait till the following morning to call Mr. Winton and tell him what had happened. Maybe they should even change their approach to the investigation since it seemed to be someone who was a step ahead of them.

  Chapter 13

  Rob and Paul were up early the next morning so they could catch Mr. Carlton before he left for work. Just as Paul was about to dial the number, his phone rang. “Paul Barton.”

  “Well, Dr. Barton, if you aren’t up bright and early.”

  “Who is this?” Paul put the call on speaker phone.

  “You’d certainly like to know that, wouldn’t you? You and your little—and I do mean little—investigative team. Trying to outsmart me. Well, you never will. You simply aren’t intelligent enough, nor good enough.”

  “Who is that?” Rob asked. The voice sounded weird, as if it were being filtered.

  Paul shrugged and turned back to the phone. “What do you want?”

  “Remember the warning I gave you a few days ago?”

  “About the members of the group being careful? Of course, I remember.”

  “Well, it seems someone inadvertently interfered. Of course, it was you and Smithton.”

  “Why are you calling?”

  “Just to give you another warning. One of the members is going to… Well, perhaps ‘shuffle off this mortal coil.” He giggled. A girlish sound. “And maybe not.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong. I love the sight of blood.” He giggled again. “Anyone’s, that is, except my own. So maybe one of the members may suffer…shall we say an unexpected accident. “Oh, not fatal. Maybe even not bloody, come to think of it.”

  “You’re having trouble making a decision, aren’t you?”

  “What the fuck? Are you trying to play therapist with me? Well, it won’t work. Flat out, I tell you that.” The voice was shrill, filled with rage.

  “What are you planning to do?”

  The man laughed, this time more deeply. “No, no, no. That’s not the way the game is played.”

  “The game?” Paul asked.

  “Cat and mouse, if you like. Except I’m not the mouse. Bet you’d like to know who is.” Abruptly the phone cut off.

  “The guy must be totally insane,” Rob said.

  “Or totally involved in a fantasy world.”

  “Well, at least we know it wasn’t Clyde Smithton.”

  “What do you mean, Rob?”

  “The voice was nothing like his. The intonation, the shrillness, the giggling.”

  “I wouldn’t rule him out so fast, Rob. Again, he or anyone else could be deliberately changing the tone, the accenting of the words. Again, Paul picked up the phone to dial Carlton. Again, it rang just before he had the chance.

  “Hello,” Paul answered.

  “Just wanted to tell you that you and your buddy boy Rob aren’t immune from being hurt, you know.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Can’t you tell I have a grudge? Not that’s enough chatter. On to the next scene.”

  “Is it another member of the club, or is it Rob and me?”

  “All right, I’ll tell you.”

  Paul and Rob both tensed.

  “But not right now. I think it might be a good idea of we meet.”

  “He wants to meet!” Rob said.

  “Ah, that’s good,” the voice said. “You have it on speaker phone. I want you both to know that I’ll meet with you tomorrow morning. Since you seem to be so enamored of THE restaurant, the one where some of the members hang out, let’s meet there.”

  “You’ll let us know who you are and why you’re doing this?”

  “I didn’t say that, now, did I? I simply said we’d meet.”

  “What time?”

  “Let’s say eight a.m. I have lot planned for the day, so I can’t diddle daddle around. We’ll meet in the patio. Eight sharp. Ta ta for now.”

  Paul clicked the phone shut and turned to Rob. “Do you think we can trust him?”

  “You mean to show up?”

  “I mean not to try something. It could be an ambush of sorts.”

  Rob exhaled a breath of air he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “But it’s a chance to find out who this person is. Who murdered Harvey.”

  Paul nodded. “So you want to go ahead with this?”

  “I know it’s taking a chance, but I think we have to do it.”

  “I suppose,” Paul said. “But we have to be very careful.

  It was just a minute or two before eight when the hostess seated Paul and Rob in the patio. There were few other customers—an older man who seemed to be totally engaged in reading a book, and two young women, heads together laughing. The man and the young woman both sat several tables away.

  Suddenly, a glass on the next table shattered into a million pieces.

  “Get down,” Paul yelled. “He has a weapon.” He and Rob dropped to the floor as did the three other customers.

  “Oh, my God. He’s really insane.”

  Another shot hit a glass on a different table. Then there was silence before the two girls started to scream.

  A man ran out from the restaurant. “What’s going on?” he shouted.

  “Someone shooting!” Rob told him. “You’d better get down.”

  Just then Paul’s phone rang. “What is it?” Paul’s voice was filled with fury. “What in the fuck are you trying to do?”

  “Now is that any way for an English professor to talk?”

  “What the hell do you want?”

  “Just to prove to you that I’m serious. Could have killed you both. As you see, I’m not a bad shot. But not yet. No, not yet. One by one, I’ll hurt and kill all the members of your fucking little club. Then it will be your turn and your little friend’s turn, as well.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “I told you that already. I have a grudge, and I don’t let go of grudges easily. Well, that’s enough chit chat. I wanted to get your attention, and I guess I did. I wanted to show you how easy it is to accomplish what I set out to do.”

  “I certainly hope you’re wrong.”

  “I rarely am.”

  Suddenly, a couple of cops stood by Paul and Ron’s table.

  “Sir, I understand there’s been a shooting. Do you know anything about that?”

  “All I know is that someone fired toward the patio. The shots hit glasses on two different tables.” Paul pointed to them.

  The other cop turned to Rob. “And you?” She was a redhead in her mid-thirties.

  “I have no idea who it could have been. The shooter, I mean. I dived under the table after the first shot, so I didn’t see anything.”

  “Did either of you see the shooter?” the older cop asked.

  “I didn’t,” Rob answered. “It was totally unexpected, and I don’t even know where the
shooter was—obviously near the patio so he or she had a view of it.”

  The cop glanced around. “Hedges and a fence. Well, I suppose the perp could have hidden behind the hedges.”

  “We’ll need your names and addresses,” the first cop said.

  “Yes, sir,” Rob answered. He and Paul gave the man their addresses.

  “Well, if you think of anything—no matter how seemingly unimportant, please contact us. He gave them a phone number, and the two of them headed off to talk with the other customers. Idly, Rob noted that the girls still seemed very frightened. Both were crying softly. The man with the book looked pale.

  After the cops left Paul pulled out his phone and called Carlton to tell him what had happened. “Dale, I think we have two options. We can suspend access to the gym for the time being—until we find out who’s doing all this. Or we can hire a guard.”

  “A guard?”

  “Someone who sees who goes in and out.”

  “But that would create a host of problems,” Carlton answered. “The guard would have to be familiar with all the members. And that’s a problem in itself. Who could we trust to do that? We can’t just hire anybody, can we?”

  “A guard wouldn’t have to know what goes on inside, would he?” Rob asked.

  “But that might be more dangerous than anything else. Letting people in and then not watching them,” Carlton answered.

  “But suppose someone else is murdered while the guard is outside,” Paul said. “Sure, maybe he could identify the killer, but the damage already would be done.”

  “Do you think the murderer would take the risk of being IDed by the guard?” Rob asked.

  “Probably not,” Carlton answered. “But we just can’t take the risk.”

  “So what do you suggest?” Paul asked.

  “I don’t know,” Carlton answered. “Obviously, you’ll be here when Rob is scheduled to meet with someone, but it’s the unplanned meetings that are the problem.”

  “Yes,” Paul replied. “It could end up with someone else being murdered, just as Harvey was. I’m sure he didn’t expect any problems when he met with the murderer.”

  “But why did he meet with him?” Carlton asked.

  “We probably won’t ever know,” Paul answered.

  “It seems to me,” Rob said, “that the only thing we can do is warn the members not to come here for any reason except scheduled meetings.”

  “I suppose,” Carlton answered before hanging up.

  “So,” Paul said, “I think we deserve some breakfast.”

  “Are you serious?” Rob answered.

  “A man’s gotta eat, right?”

  Rob laughed. “Well, if you put it that way.”

  “And what the hell! I’m so late to work now I might as well forget today too.”

  “Can you do that?”

  “I can pretty much do what I want, Rob.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve been lucky. I really don’t need to work anymore. Might as well take it easy. Oh, I enjoy what I do. But okay, some of the sparkle’s gone. I made a bundle, and so I’ve been thinking of taking an early retirement.”

  “Wow!”

  “Comes as a surprise, huh?”

  “So what will you do? What will we do?”

  “I was thinking of going into business.”

  “Business? What kind?”

  “You’re developing into a pretty damned good artist. Why not promoting your work?”

  “Don’t think I’m near that stage yet, Paul?”

  “Well, I’m no connoisseur, but I’ve seen your paintings and drawings.”

  “Maybe in a year or so,” Rob answered. “But I have my doubts.”

  “That surprises me. You seem like a very self-confident man.”

  “Self-confident but mixed with a little realism.”

  Paul laughed. “Okay. But in a year…”

  “We’ll see.” He glanced into Paul’s eyes. “So any other ideas up your sleeve?”

  “No…not really.”

  “Hmmm. That ‘not really’ is a little bit telling.”

  “Can’t sneak anything past you, can I?” He caught a waiter’s gaze and motioned him to the table. “After all the excitement,” he told the man, “I think we need some fortification.”

  “You’d like to order then?”

  “We would.”

  Paul ordered three eggs over easy, vegetarian sausage, multi-grain toast, and coffee. Rob ordered two eggs and real sausage patties.

  “Didn’t know you’re a vegetarian.”

  “Ah, but you’re assuming things that may not be true. Faulty inductive reasoning. See something once and think it’s true all the time.”

  “So you’re not a vegetarian?”

  “Didn’t say that. Just wanted to jerk your chain a little, lighten the mood, forget for a moment that we were shot at.”

  “So are you a vegetarian or not, Paul? I notice when we went to the Italian restaurant you had meatless lasagna. So am I compiling enough to start engaging in deductive reasoning.”

  “I doubt it, but you are right. I am a vegetarian. Just not a vegan. I like my eggs, and in my opinion, not much can beat a good grilled cheese sandwich. But I take it that coming from the Midwest, you a meat and potatoes man.”

  “Hmmm. Didn’t I just hear something about faulty inductive reasoning,” Rob asked.

  Paul threw back his head laughing. “Guess you got me on that one, didn’t you?”

  “Fact is,” Rob said. “I rarely order or even cook red meat…though once a week or so I eat chicken or fish. But I don’t think I’d have any trouble being a vegetarian.”

  “Well, I’m not asking you to, you know. Just because I follow a certain regimen doesn’t mean you have to.”

  “We’ll see.”

  The waiter came with a steaming pot of coffee. Rob took a sip. “So you implied you might have something else in mind. I mean so far as work.”

  “You may think I’m insane.” He paused and shook his head. “Okay. Tell me what you think.” He rolled his eyes.

  “Must be pretty far out.”

  “What if we did this sort of thing fulltime?”

  “What sort of thing?”

  “Became investigators?”

  Rob frowned. “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “Okay. If the victim weren’t Harvey…”

  “You mean like private detectives?”

  “Spencer, Kinsey Milhone, Philip Marlowe.”

  “Robert Parker, Sue Grafton, Raymond Chandler.” Rob smiled.

  “I’m impressed. You know the authors who created these characters.”

  “At your service,” Rob joked.

  “I thought I was the murder mystery nut.”

  “So, Paul,” Rob said. “You mean actually become private eyes?”

  “Weird idea, right?”

  Rob shrugged. “Wow! I don’t know.”

  “Well, let’s forget it for now. So any ideas on who shot at us.”

  “Whoever it is… Well, he can’t be in his right mind. Have any of the members had psychological problems?”

  “Yes, but let’s let it go for now, Rob. I don’t mean to cut you out of things, but the man spoke to me in confidence. And it was really only a matter of his not being able to accept the way he was.”

  “Being gay you mean?”

  “More that he has a particular fetish, and he hated himself for it. Wasn’t sure what to do.”

  “So you talked with him?” Paul nodded. “And it helped?”

  “I hope so. At least he never brought up the subject again, and he’s still a member.”

  “And what about the fetish?”

  “Seems he resolved it to his satisfaction.” Paul batted his coffee cup back and forth between his index fingers. “But I’ll keep an eye on him. If it turns out that I really believe he’s the one…well, I’ll tell you. Finding Harvey’s murderer is more important than keeping a confidence… Or at least it s
hould be.”

  “But you’d feel bad breaking that confidence?”

  “I admit that I would.”

  “Anyone else?” Rob asked. “Anyone who might be…unbalanced? I don’t mean to pry, but it could help point us in the right direction.”

  “Can’t think of anyone. Not really. Lots of people have emotional problems, Rob. Me, for instance.”

  “You?”

  “Black and gay? It isn’t supposed to be that way. So I struggled. Maybe it was a phase, I told myself. Being gay.” He looked up. “Often the black community is less accepting of homosexuality that other communities.”

  “I didn’t know; never thought about it, I suppose.”

  “Well, I finally decided I had to accept what I am and go on from there.”

  “For which I’m certainly glad!”

  “Well,” Paul said once the two of them were back at the condo, “since I’m not going to work, I don’t want to waste the day doing nothing.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “I think if we retreat to the bedroom, I might be able to explain things a little more clearly.”

  “Hmmm,” Rob said, “that sounds intriguing. “You’ll have to explain to me what you have in mind.”

  “Explain? Hell, no!”

  [[Pete, another sex scene between Rob and Paul.]]

  Just after they two of them pulled on their clothes and headed out to the living room, there was another knock at the door.

  “Not again,” Paul said.

  “Better see who it is.”

  “Just don’t open the door.”

  Rob nodded. “Who is it?” he called.

  “I have a letter for Dr. Paul Barton and Mr. Rob McKenzie.” It sounded like a child’s voice.

  “Who asked you to give us the letter.”

  “Some man.”

  “What man?” Rob asked.

  “Just a guy out on the street. He gave me a dollar to bring the letter here. That’s all.”

  “What did the man look like?” Paul asked.

  “Like a regular guy. I don’t know. I’m tired of waiting. Are you going to answer the door?”

  Paul and Rob looked at each other. “Seems harmless,” Rob said.

  “Nevertheless….”

  “You don’t think he’d use a kid to get at us directly?”

  “Okay.” Paul strode to the door and opened it. A boy of about nine stood outside holding an envelope.