"How were you gonna explain your new face to your friends? To the people at work? And what makes you so sure he'll stop?"
"He said he'd stop. He said he..."
"They all say they'll stop. I'll bet he even said he was sorry, right?"
Jared nodded.
"They never stop. He won't quit unless we put an end to it. But I need your help."
Jared looked up, face wet with tears. His eyes looked as if they held more pain than he could bear.
"Just tell me who did this. I have to hear it from you."
"S-Seamus. Seamus Scanlan."
Chapter 16
Seamus Scanlan was more dangerous than his unassuming appearance led people to believe. Jared was proof of that.
As soon as Jared's friends arrived I figured I could leave. I recognized one, Niko, the suave, dark-eyed, Greek kid who helped out at his uncle's diner from time to time. He exploded when he saw Jared's face. I almost pitied Scanlan because Niko was built like a boxer, his clothes barely concealing his powerful muscles.
Niko attempted to get Jared to go to a hospital but he refused. He wanted to get the hell out of the apartment and put Scanlan behind him. When I suggested a formal police complaint, Jared went pale with fear. Which told me a bundle.
Finding Scanlan was on my mind big time as I headed to my office. He'd moved to the top of my list of suspects. If he could beat Jared to a pulp, what's to say he wouldn't have had something done to Brandt? Scanlan was the closest thing I had to someone with potential for real violence and a motive. Even Quinn hadn't proven he was actually violent.
The fancy key burned a hole in my pocket as I walked. A dead end so far. Maybe whatever the key protected would help nail Scanlan, maybe it would exonerate him. But I wasn't close to an answer.
Back at the office I called Tony. He was the only contact at the Archdiocese who might help trace Scanlan. The others played their cards close to the vest and I wasn't in the mood for games.
"Archdiocesan Public Relations. May I help you?" Tony's "official receptionist" voice.
"Tony, it's Marco."
"Oh," he sounded annoyed but he recouped. "What's up? I'm at work and Fr. Marlon is a hard ass about personal calls."
"I'll keep it short. I'm looking for Seamus Scanlan. And before you tell me to call Wren's office, Wren won't give me the time of day. So how about you do a little snooping for me?"
"Why should I help you? All you've been is trouble."
I hadn't caused him any trouble. Yet. Unless making him think about things he'd rather not consider was trouble.
"Because Scanlan beat Jared to a pulp. And I know he's your friend."
Tony was silent.
"Tony? You there?"
"I...I'm here. You sure about Jared?" Tony's breathing became rapid.
"I was just with him. I wiped the blood off his face."
"Shit. Fucking shit. That bastard is gonna pay for this."
"Let me handle it, Tony. Help me find him." Silence again. "Tony?"
"Yeah. I'm here. I'm just thinking."
"Find out what you can and call me back asap."
"Was Niko there?"
"Niko? There was a guy named Niko there. Why?"
"That's my boyfriend. I told you, he and Jared are close. He'd better not find Scanlan before you do."
"Call me when you know something."
***
"Scanlan didn't come in today." Tony's voice was tight when he called back later in the day. "The bastard is probably hiding somewhere."
"Who'd know where he hangs out?"
"He's a ghost. Nobody knows much about him. Only reason I'm aware of the guy is because of Jared and because he works for Wren. How Jared got involved with that scum ball is beyond me."
"What about Niko?"
"What about him? He doesn't know any more than I do."
"You never know. I'm not implying he'd keep anything from you. But if he and Jared are close, maybe they talk. Maybe Jared said something to Niko. Something Niko isn't aware is important. Understand?"
"I..."
"Could be something little. Something incidental. A throwaway line. Anything can help."
"I'll ask him."
"Where's Niko now? I'll talk to him. I'll know what to look for, what might mean something." I tried gaining Tony's confidence but it wasn't easy. He had all the natural suspicion any Italian is born with. But he was also gay. We were both members of the same club, so to speak.
"He works at Olympus. He's a trainer. He'll be there tonight until closing." Tony said. "I gotta hang up now. Marlon's on the rampage about something."
Olympus was a classy gym. More than a gym. It was a combination high-tech gym, all-male sauna, day spa, and boutique hotel. It'd been written up in the local rags and in some national magazines. The day spa was on the ten best list in Philly. It cost at least as much as a few days in New York but was worth it. I could attest to that. Of course, I was comped a visit so I couldn't complain about the price.
I knew the owner, Stavros, before Olympus was even a glimmer in his eye. He was a hard-working Greek with a huge family behind him. He'd always dreamed of opening a facility like Olympus and when he found the backers, he'd jumped on it.
One block outside the official boundaries of the gayborhood but still part of it all, Olympus sprawled over more than half a city block. It was popular and getting more so. Olympus drew both male and female customers to the gym and the day spa. The boutique hotel had a growing gay clientele. The all-male sauna was kept strictly separate from the rest of the facility. Stavros should have been happy. But he was searching for love and could never seem to cross that bridge.
Since Niko wasn't available until later, I decided to check in at my office.
As I read through files, Olga buzzed.
"Woman with beautiful voice is on phone," Olga said sounding dramatic.
"Olga, you've been watching too many movies. What's her name?"
"Name is making difference? You are not in market for women. But you are also not looking for business?"
"Of course I want business."
"So? You are wanting to talk to woman?"
"Put the call through, sweetness."
"Mr. Fontana?"
"What can I do for you, Miss...?"
"Palmer. Jane Palmer."
"How can I help you, Miss Palmer?"
"I know you're investigating the death of Helmut Brandt. And, well... I work for Thomas Quinn." Her voice was like cookie dough.
"I've met Mr. Quinn. Quite a character. Must be a trip working for him." Especially if you're not part of the tinfoil-hat set, I thought.
"You've no idea. He's a driven man. He won't stop until he gets what he wants. No matter what he has to do to get it."
"What's this have to do with me, Miss Palmer?"
"I wanted to warn you, Mr. Fontana. Quinn is unstable. You're in danger."
"I can handle Quinn."
"He said Brandt had information that he needs to complete his work. Quinn said he knows the information wasn't in Brandt's home."
"How does he know? Did he break into Brandt's house?"
"I don't know. He just knows the information wasn't there. He was angry, frustrated. Babbled all day about it."
"How does this put me in danger?"
"I suspect he's planning something."
"What's that exactly?"
"He wants Brandt's papers. I think he'll try anything to get them."
"Like...?"
"Forcing you or Mr. Hollister to tell him where that information is. He's convinced you have the papers. I overheard him. He's hiring someone to do whatever it takes to get the information."
"And you're telling me this because...?" I said.
"I won't allow him to harm anyone. After observing him for a while now, I've come to feel that he's capable of having someone killed. Maybe even Brandt. He'd do anything to get what he wants."
"Do you have proof he was involved in anything? The break-in, the killing?"
/> "Of course I don't have proof. I'd have gone directly to the police if I had. But Quinn knows things. And now he wants to force you or Hollister to talk. Isn't that enough?"
"Warning me could get you into serious trouble. If Quinn is as dangerous as you think, anything is possible."
"He's totally unhinged. I'm giving him my notice and leaving."
"If you know anything else that might help..."
"I wanted to warn you. Now I have."
The phone went dead. Her words echoed in my head.
***
On my way to meet Niko, I returned a DVD to Drew.
"Hey, Marco. Did you enjoy it?"
"If I could've watched it all in one shot, I think I'd've enjoyed it a lot more. You're looking happy." His happy was a kind of messy, unmade-bed look. Hair mussed, clothes awry.
"Crazy day, Marco. Just got rid of a really edgy kid. Bouncing off the walls. Didn't know anything about movies, but kept asking for recommendations. Wasted a lot of time."
"Lots'a crazies around."
"There was something funny, though." He pushed his glasses back up on his nose.
"What's that?"
"He kept looking at the stairs leading to your office. Like he was waiting for something."
Chapter 17
All the way over to Olympus, I couldn't shake the feeling someone was following me. But there wasn't anyone I could see. I'm pretty good at scoping out a tail. If someone was shadowing me, he had to be invisible or I'd have seen him.
The sun had just set and a violet glow suffused the sky. A twilight dimness took hold, giving everything a sinister cast. There were too many ghosts in my past; maybe that's what I felt following me. The lights on Broad flickered on and fought off the impending night. That didn't shake the feelings I had. When I reached Olympus and stepped onto the mini stoa, I moved behind one of the massive ionic columns and slowly panned the streets. Nothing out of the ordinary. Still I couldn't dodge the feeling I'd been tailed.
I shrugged and went through the glass and chrome doors with Spartan soldiers etched into thick glass panels. It was impressive. Walking through gave you the feeling you were entering a kind of temple, that you were an ancient demi-god. Once inside, you had no doubt. The colonnade leading to the reception area was stunning. Exquisite statuary stood between white columns. Statues of Greek and Roman gods and athletes gazed off into the distance or down at you as you passed. The green-gold marble floor was inlaid with an elegant ancient Greek pattern.
On the reception desk, a live version of one of the statues smiled as if he had the greatest job in the city. Dark hair cut short, dark eyes shining with dumb intensity, and a nose that was classical in every detail. There was no hint of doubt or diminished self-confidence in him. Dressed in dazzling white, his scoop-cut spandex top revealed a smooth torso and musculature that needed constant maintenance. His hours off the desk were, no doubt, spent on the gym floor working out and showing off.
"Hi, nice to see you again," he said. He certainly made it sound as if he really remembered me, which he didn't. "Can I help you?"
"I'm here to see Niko," I said nonchalantly, drinking in his perfect pecs.
"The trainer?" His face didn't register a question though his voice did.
"Unless you've got a dozen other Niko models stashed away somewhere."
"No, just the trainer, I'm afraid." He turned to a computer screen and tapped a few keys. "He's with a client. Do you have an appointment?"
"Not exactly. Just let him know Marco Fontana is here. Tell him Tony sent me."
At that I saw a tiny frisson pass through the demigod's body, like a transient electrical pulse, undetectable to most naked eyes. His hand paused over the keyboard then he glanced at me, his face cool and collected again, his brown eyes back to their calm, liquid state. He picked up a phone and, turning his back toward me, murmured something into it. All I saw was his rippling lats as he hunched into the call. Then he turned to face me again.
"You can wait in the Elysian lounge, Mr. Fontana," he said, his face flushed. He pressed a hidden buzzer and the wrought brass gate swung open for me. "Niko will be with you shortly."
If the entrance to this workout paradise was meant to impress, the interior was guaranteed to knock your eyes out. I'd been to the Elysian lounge before, but the demigod pointed the way and I nodded politely.
The circular room was lined with comfortable leather chairs. Small alcoves, inset into the cream-colored marble walls, held classical busts. Two people, a middle aged man and a youngish woman, sat drowsily waiting. I sank into one of the chairs and stared at the spectacular trompe l'oeil ceiling. A blue sky ringed with gauzy white clouds and winged nude men all gazing in awe as bolts of lightning sizzled through a billowy white cloud at the center.
Something about the scene nagged at me but I couldn't put my finger on it. Something danced at the edges of my memory. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes to think.
After a few moments I heard someone clear his throat. Niko stood there, a fine sheen of sweat glistened on his brow, eyes dark and brooding. From my vantage point, he was backed by the billowy cloud and the lightning bolts and looked like an Olympian deity come to life.
"Marco. What're you, stalking me?" He laughed. "At the diner, then at Jared's, now here?" Then his face darkened. "What's up? Why did Tony send you?"
"Is there someplace we can talk?"
He nodded. "C'mon, we'll go to the intake room. No one's there." He turned to go and I realized I'd never seen him in gym clothes. He always dressed in slacks and white shirts when working at his uncle's diner. This gym-look changed his demeanor. Totally self-possessed, he was the tough-and-in-charge trainer rather than the fawning maitre d' at a cheap diner.
At the end of another marble-floored hall, walls lined with torch-like sconces between which were pedestals topped with more nude male statues, we came to a door.
The intake office was an efficient sea of plate glass desktops. Recessed lighting pale restful colors, and lots of fresh flowers humanized it.
Niko took a seat behind a desk and offered me one opposite him.
"What's this all about, Marco?"
"Jared and Scanlan is what it's about. Tony wanted me to talk to you and I need some information."
"You know where Scanlan is?" His breathing quickened. The veins at his temples stood out as his anger ramped up. "Tell me so I can get my hands on that fuck face."
"I thought you'd have some idea where I could find him."
"Me? Why would I...?"
"Because you and Jared are close. Maybe you know their habits. Or maybe he told you things about Scanlan. Any of it could help me find him."
"What's in it for you? You don't even know Jared. Which reminds me, why were you there this morning?"
"For the same reason I'm talking to you now. I need to find Scanlan. He might be the best lead on a case I'm working."
"This have anything to do with Jared's new boyfriend? Or, he was gonna be Jared's new boyfriend before he got himself killed."
"You knew Brandt?"
"I met Helmut a couple of times."
"How'd he and Jared meet? How close were they?"
"They met some months back. Jared went to some event at the community center and Helmut was there."
"And just like that they...?"
"It wasn't exactly like that. Jared fell in love. He's always falling in love. It's like an addiction or something. That's how he got tangled up with Scanlan. They met and Jared fell for the guy." He screwed his face into an expression of distaste. "You ask me, a seagull wouldn't stop to pick Scanlan up and they go for anything."
"What about Brandt?"
"Jared got his phone number and pursued the poor guy. Called him nonstop until he agreed to a date."
"Didn't he know Brandt was involved with someone??
"It's not that Jared didn't respect other people's relationships. He kinda couldn't help himself. If a guy ever told him once and for all to stop, Jared stoppe
d."
"But Brandt never told him to stop."
"No. In fact he said he was falling for Jared. At least that's what Jared said."
"And you believed that?"
"No reason not to. I mean, yeah, Jared can get carried away. But if a guy keeps goin' out with you, what're you supposed to think? You're gonna think he must be interested. At least a little bit."
"I suppose. But there was Scanlan to consider. What did Jared say about..."
"He said Scanlan was too rough. Had slapped him around. He wanted to leave."
"Did you confront Scanlan?"
"Sure. But Scanlan denied everything, of course." Niko looked down at the desk and shook his head. "I pinned him against a wall and told him if he ever hurt Jared again, I'd serve him for breakfast at the diner. He didn't touch him again... until this morning."
"I saw the results. That's just one reason I want to find Scanlan."
Niko looked at me and it was as if I could see the synapses firing in his head, making connections between pieces of information, memories, suspicions, and guesses.
"You think Scanlan had something to do with Helmut being killed, don't you?"
"I wanna question the guy. But first I need to find him."
"I'd like to help you, Marco. But I don't know much about his life. Jared never said anything. It's like they lived separate lives when they weren't together and Jared never knew anything about Scanlan's life. My guess? He didn't care to know anything."
"Do you know where Scanlan liked to hang out? Jared ever mention bars or clubs? Did Scanlan ever drop any hints when you talked to him? You must've talked to him, time to time."
"Never talked to him except to say hello and goodbye. He gave me the creeps. I do remember hearing him talk to some of his buddies once. We all went to that high-tech bowling alley, Lucky Strike, I think. Jared likes to bowl. Go figure. Scanlan had some friends there, too. They all talked about goin' to Stella's after the bowling alley. Jared didn't like Stella's. Too many lowlife types. But Scanlan dragged him there anyway."
"Best place in town to get just about anything you're looking for. Information. Drugs. You name it," I said. I knew the place well. A private investigator doesn't just get to hang out at the quality joints, you have to slum it now and then. If you wanted contacts on the seamier side of life, Stella's was the place to go. Hustlers, johns, addicts, and people you'd never want to meet in a million years. Stella's drew them all.
Murder on Camac Page 17