“When you’re through feeling sorry for yourself…” Rick began. A hammering interrupted him. Rick called out and the door slammed open. Paul Macross came in and stood over Billy. “You claim you knew Arthur Oldham?” the British cop said in a harsh voice.
Billy met the other man’s eyes calmly. “You’re not angry at me,” he said. “You’re angry with Arthur for not telling you.”
“He told me he was taking a personal interest in a rehab,” Paul said. “But I thought…”
“I’m not trying to dishonor Arthur’s memory,” Billy interrupted. “If you didn’t know that he was…”
“What?” Paul interrupted, his tone daring Billy to say anything derogatory. “Arthur was what?”
“Gay,” Billy said simply. “Oh.” Macross relaxed a trifle. “Of course I knew he was gay. Me and a handful of others. I knew Arthur could keep a secret, but he never said a word about you.”
“Would you?” Billy said. “Of course not; you’d be just as ashamed of me.” “Arthur never did anything he’d be ashamed of,” Paul said confidently. “If he didn’t talk about you, it was for your protection, not because he was embarrassed.”
“Thank you for saying that,” Billy said. “Arthur…” His next words lodged in his throat. He couldn’t get them out or swallow them down. Tears sprang to his eyes as he tried to breathe, but he felt as though he were strangling.
“You all right?” Rick asked. “You want some water or something?” Billy shook his head, holding up one finger in a signal for time. After a moment, the spasm of intense sorrow passed, leaving the young man feeling drained and weary. “Sorry. Talking about Arthur affects me like this,” he said weakly, as tears flowed unheeded down his cheeks.
“I’ll tell Rick what happened,” Macross volunteered. Rick followed Paul into the hall and looked inquiringly at the other officer. “I was part of Arthur’s squad,” Paul said. “I worked my arse off to get there; Oldham’s Oldfellows had the best reputation of any narcotics team on the force. However, I hadn’t been there long before Arthur was killed. When his cover was blown on the Carey case, he turned it over to another DCI. The Oldfellows were investigating a different dealer when Carey came out of hiding to kill Arthur. That’s why Carey left England, just for the record.”
“I’m sorry,” Rick said. “The tone of your voice when you say his name tells me how much you admired him. Do you buy the kid’s story?”
“It’s certainly the kind of thing Arthur would do. It’s hard for me to accept that he could have kept the relationship secret, but…” “Do you think he…you know?” Rick let the implied question hang between them.
“Do I think Arthur fancied the lad? Of course he did. Don’t you?” “We’re not talking about me,” Rick said. “I’d like to hear more about Arthur Oldham, but right now, I want to finish the interview with Billy. I guess I will have dinner with you, after all. If the offer is still open.”
Macross nodded and went back to the observation room. Billy looked up as Rick came back in and Rick wished that things were different. He clamped down on his emotions as he sat and continued the interview. “You were with Carey to get revenge,” he baited.
Billy put his head back down and didn’t answer. Rick crossed his arms and used the weapon that Paul Macross had put into his hands. “So you’ve had experience with undercover cops,” Rick said. “I don’t want to talk about Arthur anymore,” Billy said.
“Then let’s talk about me,” Rick said. “When you realized I was a policeman, why didn’t you tell me what you were doing with Carey? Didn’t you think I would understand your need for justice?”
“You don’t understand anything,” Billy said. “When I had no place to go, Arthur took me into his home. He got me into a recovery program and I got clean. He took care of me through all of it. Most importantly, he didn’t tell anyone, and I was able to get straight in peace. I can’t begin to tell you everything he did for me.”
“You fell in love with him,” Rick stated.
“How could I help it? Arthur was big, blond, and handsome, so strong and yet so kind.”
“How long were you lovers?” Billy began to weep again and dashed his sleeve angrily across his eyes. “We were never lovers. He was too honorable to sleep with me. I asked. I begged. I even threatened, but he refused to take advantage of my situation, as he put it. Now he’s dead, and I’ll never know what it’s like to make love with him.”
“I’m…sorry,” Rick said haltingly.
“Don’t be. It doesn’t matter,” Billy said. “Nothing matters now.” “If nothing matters, why didn’t you tell Carey I was a cop?”
Billy groaned. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you, you bastard? All right then; here it is. I didn’t want anything to happen to you because I care about you. I don’t want to care about you, but I do and there’s nothing anyone can do about that, unfortunately.”
“Why unfortunately?” Rick asked.
“Never satisfied, are you?” Billy answered.
“I just want the truth.”
Billy sighed. “I couldn’t let myself love another brave, honorable man just so I could watch him die,” he said. Several options passed through Rick’s mind at lightning speed and he chose the one he thought would serve his purpose best. “You truly are arrogant,” he said and was gratified when the young man looked up in shock. “Do you really think Arthur Oldham died because of you?”
“If Arthur hadn’t taken me in, and let down his guard, Gareth wouldn’t have been able to find him so easily,” Billy said. “It’s my fault that he’s dead.”
“Don’t be so naïve,” Rick continued. “And let’s get back to the heart of the matter. You wanted to kill Gareth to avenge Arthur? Have I got that right? Then why don’t you tell me what took you so long? You were alone with him plenty of times.”
“I had to be sure,” Billy said. “I had to know that he would die, not just be wounded. And I wanted to ruin him first.” “And you didn’t want to get caught,” Rick added. “I didn’t care about that,” Billy said.
“Yes you did, or you would’ve taken a knife from the kitchen, or a gun from one of the bodyguards, and just killed Gareth while he was sleeping.”
“I was working on the bodyguard gun angle,” Billy said. “I was hoping to convince Levere that he had what it takes to bump off Gareth and run the empire, but he was a little less stupid than he looked. As for knives, I’ll admit that I’m a coward. I couldn’t stab anyone to death. I’m not even sure I could shoot someone. Pushing the button on the remote detonator was…disconnected, if that makes sense.”
Rick pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side. “Your plan for Levere probably would have worked in time,” he said. “Too bad I came along and screwed it up.”
“Yes, you did,” Billy said. “Although, I must say, Geordie was a worry and those Kutter boys threw a spanner in the works as well.” “You know what I think? I think you want to live.”
“And I think you’ll do your best to see that I don’t.”
Rick had no answer for that. He did intend to see that Billy was prosecuted for his crimes and if convicted, the kid could very well receive the maximum penalty. Abruptly, Rick stood and walked to the door without another word. He had nothing more to say; for him, the interrogation was over.
~ Chapter Sixteen ~
“SIT the hell down or dance with me,” Graciela said as she set her
mineral water back down on the bar.
Rick turned from his sentry watch on the door. “I wish the Brits would get here. I’m hungry enough to eat Mexican food.” “Eat me, you KY cowboy,” she returned. Rick smiled at the familiar insult, but sobered quickly. Graciela noticed, of course. “When are you going to tell me what’s eating you?” she asked.
“I don’t think I can talk about it, Gracie.” “Chingate!” she swore. “What the hell happened to you, man? I know the scene in the warehouse got ugly. I can’t imagine how you feel after you kill someone that looks l
ike they should be in a schoolyard shootin’ hoops.”
“That was tough,” Rick acknowledged. “Finding out the Kutters were responsible for Tonio’s death took some of the sting out of it, though.”
“Que pasa, man? I’ve never seen you like this and it bothers me.”
“What am I like?” “Dead,” she said instantly. “It’s like you died, but your body doesn’t know it yet. You walk and talk, but…” Rick turned on his barstool to look directly at his partner. “That’s not a very pleasant thing to say, Officer Cruz. And what the hell does it mean?”
“You had this spark before you went undercover,” she said. “I won’t get this right, but I’ll do my best. There was always this little gleam in your eyes, no matter what. A light that said to me that no matter what was happening on the outside, Rick was alive and well on the inside, doing his observing and pondering and…”
“Pondering?” Rick interrupted. “Yeah, pondering, wiseass,” Graciela repeated. “It’s what you do. You watch and you think about things, and you always have this kind of humorous perspective even when it gets dire. No, not humorous. Yeah, humorous, but that’s not exactly it. It’s kinda Zenlike. Ai, Dios mio, I’m babbling. I told you I wouldn’t be able to explain.”
“You’re doing fine,” Rick said. “I guess I have lost my spark.” “Well, can you get it back? ’Cause it’s like working with a zombie.” “Sorry,” Rick said, as Paul Macross and Campbell Frehley entered the restaurant. “We’ll have to continue this analysis later, doctor.”
“You better believe it,” she said, picking up her drink and following Rick to the table. Graciela found herself seated next to Inspector Frehley and abruptly wished she’d worn something else. Her pants and shirt were appropriate for the setting, but a skirt would have given Frehley a chance to check out her legs. Reining in that line of thought, Graciela joined the conversation. “I’m glad Billy went for the deal,” she said. “He doesn’t seem all that bad.”
“He’s a killer,” Rick disputed her opinion. “He pushed a button,” Paul shrugged. “A car filled with very good dope and a very bad man blew up and both are off the street. Try thinking of it like that.”
Rick took a drink of his water instead of commenting. “From Billy’s testimony, I’d say the kid had plenty of reason to want Carey dead,” Graciela filled in the silence. Campbell nodded. “Carey was a nasty piece of work, all right. I shouldn’t say this, but I’m relieved he won’t be going to trial. If he didn’t get convicted for some technical reason, I’m afraid I’d find myself looking at him through the scope of a high-powered rifle some fine day.”
Graciela smiled at Frehley. Frehley smiled back, and Rick realized the other two were doing the cop version of flirting. He knew that at some point this evening, with the judicious application of alcohol, they would be competitively comparing scars, or something equally silly. Good for you, Gracie, he thought. Wish I had your luck.
“We’ll walk back with you,” Paul said, as Campbell settled the bill for dinner and Graciela headed off to the ladies’ room. “Not necessary,” Rick said. “We can handle a simple prisoner transfer.”
“No doubt,” Paul said, “but it’ll give my boss a little more time with your partner.”
“They’re grown-ups,” Rick said. “They could just admit they’re attracted to each other and want to spend time together.” “What world do you live in?” Paul asked. “Here on planet Earth we’ve worked out some rather elaborate masking mechanisms for our courtship rituals.”
Rick smiled. “You’re a funny guy, Paul,” he said. “Is that a new thing? Because I don’t remember you cracking wise when we were working for Carey.”
“I was too bloody freaked out,” Paul said. “I’m giving up undercover work. It’s obvious I can’t take the stress. My hat’s off to you, though.”
“Thanks, but I was plenty stressed, believe me. Especially after…” Rick paused. “Did I tell you that Billy knew I was a cop?” “The whole time?”
“Almost from the beginning.”
“And he said nothing,” Paul marveled. “That lad really wanted to see Carey taken down. A pity you and he didn’t join forces sooner.” “We didn’t join forces,” Rick said a bit more sharply than he’d intended.
Comprehension dawned in Paul’s dark eyes as he stared at the other law officer. “You poor sod,” he said softly.
“I’ll be okay,” Rick said, wishing this conversation were over. “I can only hope to be as strong as you some day,” Paul said. “I can’t imagine having to arrest someone I love for murder.” “I don’t love him,” Rick said. “I thought I could, but I was wrong.” “Bullshit,” Paul said. “You love him. And if you can watch him disappear from your life without blinking, you’re a monster who’s eaten his own heart.”
Rick was relieved to see Frehley and Graciela coming across the room. Rick’s partner looked at him curiously, as she joined them, but she didn’t say anything until they were on the sidewalk.
“I told Frehley I’d show him the firing range,” she said. “You think you and that proper Englishman can get our prisoner from the holding cell to the van?”
“Piece of pie,” Paul said behind her.
“Cake,” Rick corrected automatically.
“No time for dessert, mate,” Paul replied.
“You two deserve each other,” Graciela said. “Come on, Campbell. Let’s go waste some ammo.”
“Your partner’s a major hottie,” Paul said as he watched her walk away with Frehley.
“Yeah, I know,” Rick answered. “And your boss has that ‘I’m so uptight I must be a raging volcano in bed’ thing down to an art.” “Couldn’t testify to the volcano part,” Paul replied. The two detectives walked the three blocks to headquarters chatting about Graciela and Campbell. In a few minutes, they were down in lockup and Rick was signing papers for the duty sergeant. A short time later, an officer escorted a handcuffed Billy to the desk and turned him over to Rick.
“Miss me?” Billy asked brightly.
“Only because someone filed down the sight on my gun,” Rick answered in kind. Seeing the two of them together again, Paul knew his hunch was right. And not only did Rick Miles love Billy Rose, Billy loved him back. Suddenly, Paul’s delicious dinner wasn’t sitting so well, and he wished he didn’t know what he knew.
“So how do you boys like my new look?” Billy asked, indicating his jail jumpsuit. “Orange isn’t really your color,” Rick said.
“Bullshit,” Paul joined in. “Every color is his color.”
“Thanks,” Billy said, and Paul saw how thin the lad’s shell of bravado was. “You’ll be okay,” Macross said. “They’re putting you in maximum security for the night, but it’s for your protection. Tomorrow, after the higher-ups fine-tune the deal, you’ll be going to a safe house. Right, Rick?”
“It’s true,” Rick said to Billy. “The District Attorney’s office, in its infinite wisdom, has decided that your testimony is so valuable that we’re going to wink at the murder you committed. That’s right, Billy. You won’t be doing any time. In fact, you’re going to be rewarded with a fresh start.”
“Don’t tell me I’ve won the lottery as well.” Billy refused to be outdone in flippancy. Rick’s eyes narrowed at the corners, and Billy knew he’d scored a hit. “I wouldn’t be surprised,” the cop said. “In addition to the get out of jail free card, you’ll be receiving a brand new name, and that’s not all. The taxpayers are providing you with a new job, too. Of course, your old job skills probably won’t be much use to you there, but the state couldn’t find an opening for a drug lord’s toy boy.”
Billy clutched his chest dramatically. “You got me,” he said melodramatically. “I shan’t recover from that one.” Paul butted in on the sniping again. It was too painful for him to watch two people that should be hugging raking at each other with words. His mocking joke about human courtship rituals came back to haunt him. “Come on,” he said. “The van’s waiting and I don’t want to be at
this all night.”
Rick nodded and they marched Billy down a long hall to the back of the building where they exited onto a small loading platform next to the Dumpsters. Beside the concrete platform, a large van idled with the rear doors already open.
“Hold on,” Rick said, putting a hand on the butt of his weapon. “What’s wrong?” Paul asked.
“Where the hell is everybody?” Rick asked as the flat crack of a gunshot echoed off the wall. Rick dove onto Billy, shielding his prisoner from the gunfire with his body. Paul was crouched in the doorway behind them, weapon in hand, searching frantically for the source of the sniper fire. Sharp chips and brick dust showered Rick’s back as he pushed Billy ahead of him into the van. As Rick jumped from the platform, a round struck him in the leg, and he crash-landed in the vehicle’s cargo bay. Billy broke Rick’s fall, but the handcuffs prevented the young man from doing much else besides provide padding. Rick sat up, pointing his gun toward the back of the van, but the firing had ceased for the moment. Risking a look down, Rick saw that his wound could’ve been worse. “Macross!” he shouted. “You alive?”
“And kicking,” Paul answered. “I think the shooter’s on the move.” “Stay where you are,” Rick ordered. Making a snap decision, he unlocked Billy’s cuffs. “If you run,” he said, “there will be nowhere in the world that you can hide from me. Understand?”
“I would never run from you,” Billy said. “Stop that,” Rick said fiercely. “I know what you’re doing, and I’m not going to fall for it again. You’re good. You’re really, really good, but I’m wise to you now.”
“I know,” Billy said. “I knew what I was giving up when I pushed that detonator button, but I had to do it. I promised Arthur Oldham’s ghost that I’d get Gareth Carey for him.”
“Shut. Up.”
“We might die any second.” Billy moved closer to Rick. “I’m not going to my grave without telling you that I love you and I would do anything if I thought I could change your mind about me.”
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