Death In The Closet (Edward Crisp Mysteries Book 3)

by Peter Boon

  ‘Chloe, get her out of here. And I’ll speak to you later,’ she said ominously.

  ‘Jackie, about me telling her…’

  ‘Look, I can see it’s just a rumour between you girls. I know what it’s like when there’s arguments with your boyfriends and there’s alcohol involved. But we can’t have people thinking it’s true about Kieron,’ she said pointedly, obviously wanting people to hear.

  ‘It IS true about Kieron!’ Ellie screamed, as everyone watched round two. ‘You think we’ve made this up? Yes, Chloe told me, but he admitted it himself, just now. I even saw the draft coming out statement he’s written!’

  ‘Chloe. Get her out, now,’ Jackie said once more, in a tone that was attempting authority but sounded absolutely petrified. Finally, Chloe led Ellie out, with a couple of other women joining her to help, or more likely, attempt to get the gossip.

  ‘That’s it, the show’s over,’ Jackie barked once more as the room finally got back to normal.

  ‘What a scoop!’ Noah exclaimed, looking delighted.

  ‘What do we all make of that?’ Becky asked, probably ecstatic to witness first-hand an episode of her favourite real life WAG soap opera.

  ‘You do all realise that if what she said is true,’ Patrick started before pausing for emphasis, ‘this is a game changer for English football. An openly gay premiership footballer is unheard of. We’ve probably just witnessed history.’

  ‘And I have it all recorded, word for word,’ Fiona said as she waved her phone in the air.

  ‘I don’t think so, love,’ I heard someone say before I fully comprehended what was happening. By the time I realised what was happening, Jackie Luton was standing behind Fiona, in possession of the phone. ‘I’ll take that, thank you.’

  ‘You can’t do that, that’s mine. Give it back!’ Fiona squawked awkwardly, attempting to grab the phone in vain.

  ‘I think I can,’ Jackie replied sternly. ‘You know the rules. You signed the agreement, press or not. No photo or video footage to be taken, and certainly not to be released to the public, which I assume is what you intend.’

  ‘Of course that’s what I intend, did you see that? This is going to be world news tomorrow. You can’t stop me telling what we saw, this is my story.’

  ‘There is no story, Turtle. Just a drunk, bitter WAG making up a silly lie to get back at her boyfriend because they’ve had an argument.’ She spoke slowly and deliberately; she was definitely used to people doing as they were told when she spoke.

  But Fiona wasn’t going down without a fight. ‘If that’s all it is, there’s no harm in me having my phone back, is there?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Jackie retorted in a falsely sweet voice. She wasn’t sorry. ‘Your device will be available to collect from the club reception desk in 48 hours.’

  ‘When my footage will no doubt have been wiped.’

  ‘That’s a strong accusation to make against a football club with an excellent legal team,’ Jackie replied as she walked away, triumphant. ‘Have a good evening, Miss Turtle.’

  ‘Sorry you lost your footage, boss,’ Noah said. I wasn’t sure quite when he’d started calling Fiona ‘boss’ but she was probably stuck with it for life now.

  ‘It’s not over yet,’ Fiona said as she got to her feet. ‘There are two girls out there who know the story and I’m going to get it. Come on, Noah.’

  ‘I’ll come too,’ Becky said quickly, before Patrick could object. She was having the time of her life, and he probably couldn’t have stopped her if he tried.

  ‘I’m just going to check Beaumont is alright with that idiot,’ Kat announced as she stood up, leaving just me and Patrick at the table.

  ‘Poor Kieron, I hope he’s alright,’ Patrick said with a look of sadness in his eyes, as he poured us both a glass of wine from the bottle on the table.

  ‘Do you think it’s true?’

  ‘I’ve no idea, buddy. I barely knew him as a kid, he’s seven or eight years younger than me and his brother. But as a footballer, he’s one of the most respected in the game, both as a player and a man. He’s taken this team to new heights, not just with the goals he’s scored but with his leadership too.’ He stopped and took a big gulp of his wine. His words were fairly positive, but he looked worried.

  ‘So he’ll get a lot of support then, surely?’ I ventured, flinching as I followed suit and swallowed the dry, strong alcohol. I wouldn’t normally drink wine without choosing it carefully, but it didn’t seem the right situation to object.

  ‘I don’t know. Like I said, this is a game changer. There are no openly gay players in professional football in this country. You really think there aren’t any?’

  ‘Statistically it’s unlikely,’ I agreed as I moved my wine glass a few more inches safely away from me.

  ‘Exactly, buddy. Of course there are. There must be. And why haven’t they come out? There’s been lots of debate: that the opposition fans would be too toxic at the games and on social media, that they would use it against them, that the football world is too masculine to deal with it. But there’s also many people who say, come on, it’s the twenty-first century, it would be fine. Apparently, quite a few players are privately out to their teammates and clubs, and are well supported.’ He paused again. I knew football was one of Patrick’s biggest passions, and he obviously cared about the social issues surrounding it too.

  ‘He should be okay, then,’ I said, in retrospect quite naively. ‘You never know, he might already be out to some of the team.’

  He scoffed. ‘Edward, that didn’t look like a room of people in the know. Danny Higgins, probably. But even that seemed like a recent revelation. And you’ve got idiots like Ricky Roberts on the team, and an agent and club who clearly want to brush it under the carpet. I feel for the guy: he’s going to need support.’

  I thought about it. Alfie and I have loving, supportive, wonderful parents who couldn’t have reacted better to his coming out, but even so he’s always said it’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. But this wasn’t just coming out to loved ones, this was coming out to the entire world. When you maybe weren’t even ready to. It was then an idea came to me. ‘What are we waiting for?’

  Patrick stared at me as he downed the last of his wine, thankfully not noticing I’d barely touched mine. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Ellie went off with Chloe and the rest of the WAGS, and Danny got carted off to calm down. But no one’s mentioned the person this is all about: Kieron. Ellie said he’d just spoken to her outside the room. So where is he?’

  ‘Edward, buddy, you’re brilliant,’ he said, as he picked up my leftover wine and downed it in one. ‘Let’s see if he remembers his brother’s old friend.’

  5

  Kieron wasn’t too difficult to find. Logic suggested that he’d want to hide from Ellie right now, so the obvious theory was he’d be somewhere she couldn’t go.

  ‘The private VIP toilets are stuff of legend at Beachy Head Stadium,’ Patrick explained after we’d ducked the barrier as we climbed up the steep, red velvet stairs. ‘So many supporters have tried and failed on match days to break into them.’

  ‘Why’s that?’ I questioned, puzzled. ‘Surely the dressing rooms are more popular.’

  ‘Yeah, but there’s no chance of getting anywhere near them. The private toilets are here in the main building, where there’s few people around during the game apart from a few bar staff. There’s even a social media challenge to break in and leave a message on the cubicle for your favourite player. #Beachy Boys Bog Break-in.’

  ‘It’s a good job you don’t take Becky to the games with you, she’d be breaking into the ladies’ to leave messages for the WAGS,’ I said as I tried to get my breath at the top of the stairs.

  ‘Honestly, the level of fandom you get is crazy, buddy. Especially since we got into the Premier League a couple of years ago. These guys are superstars. That’s why I’m worried about the spotlight that’s going to be on Kieron.’
>
  ‘Let’s see if we can find him,’ I said, as I went to push the giant gold-plated door in front of me. Just as I did, the door pulled itself away from me and a young man with a bleached blonde crew cut and a pierced nose appeared in our path. He looked surprised to see us and didn’t know what to do for a second.

  ‘Sorry, we’re in your way,’ I mumbled as I stepped to one side.

  ‘No problem,’ he said, as he smiled dubiously and rushed down the stairs.

  ‘Come on, let’s get in quickly, before anyone else sees us. We’re not meant to be up here, remember,’ Patrick said as he gently nudged me forward.

  ‘That was a player, then?’ I asked.

  ‘I didn’t recognise him, but he’s probably a reserve or an under 21.’

  As we entered the room, I realised that the golden door was just the start of it. Everything in sight appeared to be gold-laden: sinks, taps, mirrors, even the urinals were gold. I felt like I’d climbed the beanstalk and found the golden goose.

  My feet sank into the soft luxury carpet beneath me as I adjusted to the gold and took in the rest of my surroundings. The sink area contained more men’s toiletries and aftershaves than I’d perhaps ever seen, all luxury brands that I’d never even heard of.

  The main room itself was spacious, with a gigantic black velvet sofa at its centre, with a life-size statue of what I guessed was an old player towering over it. I also noticed several gold doors leading to other areas: showers, bathing, sauna, tanning booth, bedroom. I didn’t want to know what went on in that last one.

  ‘How the other half live, eh?’ Patrick said, as he looked around in awe. ‘And this is just the toilets, I dread to think what other perks they get.’

  ‘There seems to be no sign of him.’ I could see four large cubicles, two on each side of the room, that all looked the size of a small room. They all seemed empty with no feet in view, but Patrick and I knew better than that, exchanging a glance. I certainly knew how to hide in cubicles from all my experience of escaping bullies at school.

  Patrick nodded at me, and when he spoke it was in a gentle voice. ‘Kieron, I know you’re there, mate. I want to help you.’

  ‘Sod off, whoever you are. You’re not meant to be in here.’

  ‘I’m used to being in places I’m not meant to, buddy. I got that from your brother. From Anthony.’

  There was silence for a second. ‘Who is… wait, Patrick? Patrick Herrera? Is that you?’

  ‘Yes, it’s me, buddy. I’m here for you.’

  We saw two shiny, expensive black leather shoes drop to the floor one at a time in one of the cubicles, followed by the sound of a door unlocking.

  I mentioned earlier that I vaguely recognised Kieron, and on the pitch in the training session he seemed a larger-than-life presence. But as he faced us now, in these bizarre golden toilets, coming out of hiding, he looked different. His eyes were red; had he been crying? His mop of hair was a mess and his crumpled shirt was open down to the first three buttons. But when he smiled at Patrick - a defeated, reluctant smile–I saw a flash of the charm that had won everyone over. Until now.

  ‘Patrick, everything’s messed up,’ he said as he blinked back tears. Patrick later said that it was like seeing the seven-year-old boy again that Kieron was when he last saw him.

  ‘It’s okay, buddy,’ Patrick said, before Kieron threw himself forward and hugged him. ‘Why don’t you tell me and Edward all about it.’

  Patrick introduced me and we all sat down together on the huge velvet sofa, which still seemed to have lots of space despite having three adult men on it.

  ‘I know you,’ Kieron muttered through sniffles as he looked at me. ‘You’re the amateur detective guy. The one who’s solved the local murders. I might be able to use your brain on this one.’

  ‘Oi, what about my brain?’ Patrick joked as he gently punched Kieron’s arm.

  ‘If you had a brain, you wouldn’t have been mates with my brother,’ he replied with a laugh before pausing. ‘Seriously though, it’s good to see you, mate, after all these years. I’m glad you’re here. I need someone.’

  ‘You’ve got Danny, though, right?’ Patrick said, steering the conversation to the matter in hand.

  I thought I saw a flash of anger across Kieron’s face. ‘It’s all a load of bull… everyone here. It’s not real.’

  I considered his words. My guess was that Danny had learned his secret in confidence, then betrayed his trust to Chloe, who told Ellie.

  Patrick was evidently thinking along the same lines. ‘Did Danny break your trust by telling Chloe, buddy?’

  Kieron exhaled noisily before answering. ‘You could say that. But it doesn’t matter now. It’s out there.’

  Patrick and I glanced at each other but didn’t speak, waiting to see if he’d continue unprompted. He didn’t.

  ‘That you’re gay?’ Patrick asked gently. Silence again. ‘Kieron, you can tell us or not tell us anything you like, it’s totally your call. But I just want you to realise that because of what Ellie said, a version of the truth is going to circulate, whether or not it’s accurate. Like you said, it’s out there.’

  I was trying to read the expression on Kieron’s face, but it wasn’t easy. I couldn’t even imagine what he was going through. I thought back to all those years ago, psyching Alfie up to tell Mum and Dad. But here, the decision to come out had been taken out of his hands. Not to mention, he was a household name who was coming out to millions of people in unprecedented territory for his career, with no idea how the world would react.

  ‘Yeah, what Ellie said, it ruined everything,’ he finally said. ‘But it’s not her fault. I can’t blame her. She only acted on what Chloe told her. I need to talk to her. Explain what’s going on.’

  ‘And what is going on?’ Patrick asked.

  ‘The biggest dilemma of my life,’ he replied. ‘And I’ve no idea what I’m supposed to do. Do you stay true to who you are, or go through with a lie for the sake of someone else?’

  I felt guilt for the relief to me that this was Patrick’s old friend, not mine. I wouldn’t have a clue what to advise.

  ‘It’s a tough one, buddy,’ Patrick offered. ‘No matter how difficult it is, be true to yourself, I guess.’

  ‘I know you’re right,’ Kieron agreed. ‘I have to be true to myself. Even if it damages someone else. But that’s what I’m afraid of.’

  And with that, he stood up and walked out of the room.

  6

  No one quite knew how to carry on for the rest of the evening. Technically, it was still the celebration reception for Beaumont’s signing, but the drama with Ellie and Kieron had put a definite dampener over the party.

  According to Kat, Jackie Luton had given the whole room a strict talking to, stating clearly that any word about it outside of those four walls would find the perpetrators with legal action from the club and / or a severe fine, depending on if they were a player, employee, family member or member of the press. I doubted how successful the warning would be in our current social media age, but I hoped for Kieron’s sake that it would be: at least until he had time to think about what he wanted and talk to Ellie.

  Despite the looming threat of legal action, the club’s Board had also insisted that everyone must have a good time in Beaumont’s honour and had put unlimited funds behind the bar.

  Somehow, Fiona Turtle had persuaded Chloe Stone, Danny’s girlfriend, to join us at our table; apparently they were ‘frenemies’ who had a loose friendship of convenience, where they used each other respectively for titbits of WAG news (Fiona’s benefit) and exclusive coverage when needed (Chloe’s benefit). Right now they were both dominating the conversation at our table, earning the occasional evil eye from a suspicious Jackie across the room.

  Becky was, of course, sitting in between them, loving every moment of her new celebrity connections, much to Patrick’s chagrin. She also seemed to have had a little too much to drink.

  ‘I really feel like I’ve made two be
st friends for life!’ she squealed as she put her arm round both the journalist and the footballer’s girlfriend (she’d told us she was a beauty influencer but I refuse to state that as her profession). ‘And Chloe, you’ll definitely follow me back on Instagram as soon as you can recharge your phone?’

  ‘Yes, of course, sweetie,’ Chloe replied in as false a tone I can remember hearing for a long while. ‘The battery’s just dead for tonight, that’s all.’

  ‘Oh, that’s strange. I definitely saw you use it just two minutes ago,’ Noah announced loudly across the table, earning a thunderous look from Chloe.

  ‘Are you sure about getting the erm, special needs boy to help you?’ I heard her say in a low voice to Fiona once she thought no one could hear her. ‘He seems sweet enough but he may be bad for your job.’

  ‘I’m so sorry if he’s upset you, Chloe,’ I heard Fiona whisper back. I felt a flash of annoyance but supposed that Fiona needed to stay on the good side of people like Chloe for the good of her job. But she wasn’t done. ‘Though he’s not going anywhere. He’s got a good nose for a story and his blunt honesty unsettles people who aren’t ready to give us the full story, which I like.’

  The look on Chloe’s face was priceless. As she made an excuse and stomped away to a table with Danny and a few others on, Fiona caught my eye and gave a wink. ‘She wasn’t telling me anything interesting anyway, she’s keeping her cards close to her chest.’

  ‘You’re not really friends with her, then?’ I asked, though the answer was clear already. Fiona had clearly been cozying up to Chloe for the last hour to find out what she knew about Kieron’s secret.

  ‘Ha, of course I’m not!’ she said with a wicked laugh. ‘It’s just what it’s like with us, she knows the game.’

  ‘So, you won’t have a worldwide exclusive tomorrow then?’

  ‘With Jackie Chan back there threatening to lawyer up, not likely,’ she replied. ‘Shame, this could be the biggest story ever. Though it still might be.’