"They could be missing for separate reasons. Making it only appear there's a connection. Why not?"
"Why not? I can think of one good reason. Obsession. He's a guy who can't take no for an answer. Besides, you don't believe in coincidences."
"I know." I felt glum. "Let's have lunch and make some plans to find them."
***
At the diner, Niko claimed Jared hadn't been heard from since the day he'd left Scanlan's place. Niko had tried to convince Jared to stay with him and Tony. But Jared had been afraid Scanlan would find him. Jared insisted he had other friends who'd keep him out of sight. But he'd never named those friends and Niko was worried.
It felt like a month had gone by since I'd found Jared bleeding in that Spring Garden Street apartment. In reality it'd only been a couple of days. I told Niko I'd do what I could. I needed to find Jared, too.
Luke and I plotted out the search for Kent and Nando. I gave him Kent's address and Nando's last known whereabouts after he moved out of Kent's place as well as any other information I had. I let Luke take it from there.
I'd handle searching for Jared myself since he was a lead in the Brandt case. Niko had given me a list of Jared's closest friends and people he might stay with. He also told me that Jared hadn't been at work either.
After lunch I set out for Rittenhouse Square. Jared's job was as good as anywhere to start. He'd worked with Belasco and Dalgliesh as an assistant for a couple of years and I figured they might know some friends that Niko wasn't aware of. Their ritzy design firm occupied a three story building near the Square.
Everything about the showroom was cool, calm, and expensive. There was no music, the clientele was classier than that. A receptionist's desk was off to the side in an unobtrusive alcove.
I showed her some ID and asked if she'd buzz whoever was in charge. She looked doubtfully at me but I asked her to tell them it was about Jared. At that, her eyes lit up and she pressed a button on the intercom.
She pointed to some stairs and told me Mr. Belasco would meet me on the second floor. I glanced at the expensive furnishings and stylish materials as I made my way to the stairs.
"Mr. Fontana?" A natty older gentleman with very tight skin and silver hair, held out his hand. He wore a forest green ascot. An ascot? His dark, undoubtedly expensive, suit was cut precisely to his figure. "I understand you have some news about Jared Beeton?" He looked worried, which seemed out of character for his type.
"Mr. Belasco?" I shook his hand which was cool and soft. "I'm here about Jared but I don't have any news. I'm sorry."
"I was so hoping." Belasco shook his head sadly. "It's not like him to disappear like this. He's a responsible young man. Everyone likes him. His clients depend on him."
"He hasn't called in?"
"Not since he called some days ago telling us he'd be taking a day or two to move. I thought surely he'd be back by now. Or that he'd at least have called."
"Do you know any of his friends outside the office? Anybody he might have relied on for help?"
Belasco stiffened his back and looked at me. "Who are you, Mr. Fontana? What's your connection to Jared? Is he in some kind of trouble?"
I didn't know what Belasco knew about Jared and I didn't want to lose him his job, although being gay in an interior design firm is kind of a given.
"Seems he had a disagreement with his former roommate. A conflict of interest, you might say."
"Are you here on behalf of that roommate?" The word roommate was said in a way that led me to believe Belasco knew all about Jared. "Because if you are, I don't have anything else to say."
I liked this guy. Protective. He must've known about Scanlan and the way he treated Jared.
"I'm gonna take a chance and be honest with you. I'm not here because of his former partner. I'm here because I need Jared's help and because his friend Niko is worried about him."
"You need Jared's help?"
"I can't go into detail, Mr. Belasco. But I'm working on a case and Jared might be able to give me some helpful information." I looked him in the eye. "Aside from that, I like Jared and I know what he was going through. So I want to make sure he's okay."
"We all do, Mr. Fontana."
"Any idea where he might be?"
"I don't know if this means anything but a few days before he said he'd be moving, this Latino boy came to meet Jared every day at closing time."
"Did you happen to catch his name?"
"No, sorry. I'm not the prying kind. Jared's always been a great asset to the firm. He'd never let anyone in who he didn't trust completely."
"What did this other kid look like?"
When he got through describing him, I knew it was Nando.
Chapter 25
He looked comfortable waiting against the red brick buildings on the quiet street. Kusek patiently examined his surroundings at Camac and Spruce. Dressed casually in jeans, he fit right in. He was even more attractive out of his priestly blacks, and I felt drawn to him.
"You made it," I said as I approached. "I was afraid you wouldn't find the place. It's kind of tucked away."
"Believe it or not, Marco, I've actually had dinner here before." He smiled. "Does that surprise you?"
Now I had to guess what might please him more, that I wasn't surprised or that I was. I don't like games. Subterfuge to solve a case is one thing but games between friends or potential friends or lovers is not how I work. Of course I wasn't surprised.
"Actually, no. Not surprised at all. Disappointed?"
"Not really disappointed. I was hoping... Let's get inside, it's chilly out here."
Thursdays were slow nights for most places and the Venture Inn was no exception, which allowed us to take a quiet table in the back near the fireplace. Not many prying eyes and ears. Even if Kusek felt comfortable, his official position had to make him a little gun shy in public. I got the impression from him of a man at odds with his position and his personal life. I wondered which would eventually win out.
"What'll it be, gents? A special occasion for the two of you? I didn't even know you were seeing someone, Marco. You cagey devil. How can you keep a drop dead gorgeous man like this under wraps?" Walt paused to take out his order book. "And you," he said turning to Kusek, "How could you take this hunk off the market? There's a line and you just butted your way to the front."
"Walt, Walt. You're the best," I said hoping to stop the torrent of words. "I'd like a mojito. What about you?" I looked over at Kusek.
"I'll have the same." Kusek smiled, unperturbed.
Walt appeared disappointed he was being shut out but I caught his eye and gave him a look saying he should go easy. He got the message. He was smart and I knew for the rest of the evening he'd make sure we had a lot of space.
"So," I said, feeling as if this were a date and I wasn't sure what to do next. Not that it couldn't be a date. But I had to remind myself of my primary purpose: information. After that, the night could be whatever it played itself out to be. The possibilities were interesting. I asked myself for the hundredth time if I were crazy, wanting to sleep with a priest. It'd happened before but I'd only found out afterward that the guy was a priest. Knowing in advance made this feel different.
"When are you going to call me by my first name? I notice that you kind of avoid doing that." Kusek asked.
"Too many years of Catholic school, I guess." I gave him a serious look then started to laugh. "Kidding. Just kidding."
His smile was a lot like Anton's. Which was unsettling.
"Your name's Tad. Short for..."
"Tadeusz. Traditional family. The English version is Thaddeus which is kind of dorky. So I settled on Tad. A long time ago."
"I like it. It's strong." I wondered about his coziness with the gay setting and about his seeming interest in me. Was it real or had he been ordered by his boss to take an interest in the investigation? I was sure the Cardinal was curious about my investigation, even if he didn't want to make a big deal of Brandt's work. Any
thing that might make him look bad was something the Cardinal would want to know about in advance.
But I also read something in Tad's behavior and in his eyes. As if he wanted more but couldn't bring himself to ask.
"I'm kind've stuck with the name. Let me ask you something."
"You're wondering why the dinner invitation?"
Walt placed the drinks on the table and as he left, gave me an exaggerated wink.
"I assumed you wanted more information on people at the archdiocese. Right? None of them are killers but I don't mind spending time with you," he said. He lifted his glass and held it out to me. "What shall we drink to?"
"How about..." I paused. "How about we drink to new friends." I kept it innocuous and safe.
"To new friends, then." He clinked his glass with mine.
I nodded and took a drink. It wasn't half bad. Maybe the company had something to do with it. I found myself looking at Tad and seeing Anton. They were similar in looks and in movements. For a moment I felt a pang of disloyalty.
"Actually there is someone I want to know more about. His name turned up in some documents and I realized I didn't know much about him."
"Someone I know?"
"You know him well. The Cardinal."
"G? Cardinal Galante? Why would you need to know anything about him?" He made me feel he knew plenty but would protect the Cardinal first and foremost.
"Like I said, his name came up..."
"In your investigation? How's that possible, Marco? The man is a saint."
"Don't jump to conclusions. His name came up but not in connection to the investigation. Not directly anyway." I laughed, trying to smooth things over and change the mood. "Good thing you're not a detective or a doctor. You can't jump to the worst possible conclusion before you've heard everything."
"You seemed to suggest G was in some kind of trouble. I know the man and he's as far from trouble as anyone can get." He sipped his drink and stared at me with a look I couldn't read. "How did his name come up?"
"In some documents we found."
"When you rise to a position like his, you have a lot of people who want to tear you down." Tad was calm, his tone mellow, almost sad.
"You like him quite a lot."
"It's more than that," he said.
"Oh, I..."
"Get your mind out of the gutter, Marco. I didn't mean anything like that." He smiled to show me he wasn't really offended.
"It's just the way you said it."
"He saved my life when I was young. He's been like a father to me ever since."
"Saved your life? Literally?"
"A long time ago, when I was a kid. Before he became a Cardinal. If he hadn't come along when he had, you'd be having dinner alone right now. Or, with someone else."
"Do you ever talk about it? What happened back then, I mean." This might give me some insight into both Tad and the Cardinal.
"I'm sure a lot of people were in similar straits. The economy was bad in '89 and my father had been laid off. My mom worked as a waitress but that doesn't help much with five kids." He stared at his drink, seemingly transported back in time. "At fourteen I was a crazy kid. A daredevil. I did things which came pretty close to the edge. Maybe I just wanted to escape the realities of life at home."
"Normal for a fourteen year old, I'd say."
"Sometimes I went beyond normal into dangerous. Self-destructive dangerous."
"You don't strike me as the type."
"Go figure. I wasn't entirely a lost cause. I knew I had to get a job to help out at home. And I got one. But not any old job. I could've delivered newspapers or been a busboy in the restaurant where my mom worked."
"Not exciting enough for you?"
"Too dull. I signed on to work for a roofer on weekends. The pay was better than anywhere else and it was different."
"Dirty work, though," I said. "All that grimy stuff."
"It was fun. I got to run up and down ladders, walk all over rooftops, peek into other people's lives. I had a ball. I was the youngest worker so I was like their mascot."
"What went wrong?"
"One day we were roofing the St. Stanislaw parish hall, the rectory, and the convent. I played the crazy fool as usual, running back and forth. Except there was a slippery patch with my name on it and I went flying off a third story roof."
I saw the pain of the memory in his eyes. A grimace crept across his beautiful face like a shadow.
"You all right?" I asked and placed a hand over his. He didn't flinch.
"I'm... I still remember the thoughts running through my head as I fell. At first I felt as if I were flying. I was exhilarated. But once I realized what was happening I knew I was going to die. I just knew it. And I didn't want to. I flailed at the air but there was nothing to grab onto. I saw my mother's face and the pain I'd bring her. I saw my father. I heard voices. Then everything went black."
"Mygod," I said. "That must've been..."
"I was severely injured. I would have died. My family had no health care insurance. Even if the doctors managed to put me back together, the constant care I'd have needed and the rehab would've cost more than I was worth."
"And that's where Galante came in?"
"He was a bishop at the time. Charged with overseeing certain parishes. When he heard what had happened, he took over. Got me the care I needed and wouldn't let my family pay a cent. He was there through it all, even rehab."
"Like your guardian angel. He made sure you came through all right."
"I have lots of scars." He extended a leg and lifted the pant a bit to show an ugly scar. "And." He showed his hands, the left with one finger permanently crooked, and the right with a map-like scar.
"That was generous of Galante. Quite a guy."
"He never took any credit, never granted an interview. He never let it become news. That's the way he is. I wasn't the only person he helped. There were others."
"You said it earlier. He sounds like a saint. You don't see a whole lot of church officials rushing to help people like that."
"That's not really fair. G is an exceptional guy but there are a lot of generous men and women working in the church."
"Galante sounds different. More generous, more caring."
"He is but... I don't want to spoil the evening arguing church business. I know the man and there's a reason he might very well be the next Pope. He deserves it. The church could use a man like him."
"Is he the reason you entered the priesthood?" I asked, lamenting the fact that this beautifully sensitive man was not technically available. Except in a limited way, which wouldn't be enough for me, if I fell in love with a guy like him. Again, Anton came to mind and the similarities between the two. Except, of course, Anton was available.
"No and yes," Kusek said, pulling me from my thoughts. "I think the brush with death made me realize I needed to do something meaningful with my life."
"You could've been a doctor or a lawyer. They help people."
"Maybe it had something to do with all that time I hovered between life and death. I don't know. Something tugged at my soul and I knew. There was no confusion or doubt. It was as if something told me my life mattered and that's why I'd been pulled back from death. G backed my decisions. He sponsored me through the seminary, got me appointments in Rome."
I never thought I'd be having dinner with a guy who used phrases like "tugged at my soul." But on his lips it sounded genuine. This was no lie, I'd have known if it was. He was as real as they get. I couldn't believe I sat there lapping it up. His face had more of an effect on me than I wanted to admit to myself. His eyes drew me gently but with a force I wasn't prepared for. With some effort, I pulled my gaze from his and focused on my now empty glass.
"You worked for Galante in Rome?" I asked and signaled Walt to bring another drink for both of us.
"I studied at a theological school there, thanks to him. G accepted an appointment to the Vatican Secretariat of State around the same time. He became a
n advisor to the last Pope and now to this one. Eventually they gave him the red hat and this archdiocese. He took me with him."
"And he elevated you to Monsignor."
"Not a very heady height, that's for sure. Just a minor title. But being his adjutant, now that comes with benefits."
"I'll bet."
"I'd be happy just to clerk in his office. He gave me my life back. He saved me and I can't forget that."
"Sounds like there's more to it than that. Though, I've gotta admit, that would be enough to make me eternally grateful."
"Sure there's more. There's G himself. He's kind and generous. Not pretentious, not arrogant. A down-to-earth man. For somebody headed to Rome that's saying a lot. I'd like him as a person even if he hadn't saved me."
"You two look hungry," Walt said as he set down new mojitos. "Specials tonight are good. Don't even bother with the menu."
"What've you got?"
"Glad you asked," Walt said and exaggeratedly pulled out his order pad, flipped it over to where he'd noted the specials, and read them off.
"I'd like the salmon" Tad looked up at Walt. The candlelight caught the blue in his eyes and created an eerily beautiful effect.
"I'd say the salmon, too but the crab cakes sound too good to resist."
"I had 'em for dinner, hon. They're to die for."
"Well, I hope not."
"You're a funny man, Marco. Next time we have open mic night, drop in." Walt sashayed off to place the orders.
"How long since you've been to church?" Tad peered at me with something beyond curiosity.
"Funny you should mention that," I said. "Just last Sunday. With Tim Hollister. We all shook hands. Remember? I heard you sing. You've got a voice that sent shivers up my back."
"You know what I mean, Marco." He sipped his drink. "You don't like answering questions but you certainly ask a lot of them."
"Occupational hazard. I've made a lot of men uncomfortable with questions. Probably lost the chance at a few relationships because I can't keep my yap shut."
"So why do it?"
"In your case, I want to know more about you. Ever since you buzzed onto my radar, I've wanted to know more."
Murder on Camac Page 26