P. Parrish - The Little Death

Louis glanced at Mel, who shrugged.

“But when this whole thing hit the newspapers, my tenant backed out,” Reggie said. He looked around, shaking his head. “I mean, between the lawn man, the pool, the maid, the taxes, I have no idea how I’m going to get by if I don’t find someone-”

“Mr. Kent, please,” Louis said. “You were talking about how you and Durand got together.”

Reggie nodded. “Yes, I’m sorry. Well, Mark wanted to leave the lawyer, so I told him he could come stay with me. He was living in a ratty little efficiency by the turnpike, so you can imagine how excited he was when he saw Palm Beach.”

“So what went wrong?” Mel asked.

Reggie was silent for a long time. “The age thing, of course,” he said softly. “That, and Mark realized I wasn’t really rich. At least, not rich enough. But I didn’t want him to leave.” He gave a wry smile. “No fool like an old fool, they say.”

He drew deeply on the cigarette and blew out a slow stream of smoke. “I knew I couldn’t afford to keep him happy, and I had no illusions about him being faithful. So we struck a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” Louis asked when Reggie didn’t go on.

“I need a refill,” Reggie said. He rose, picking up his tumbler. “Anyone else?”

Mel held out his glass. Louis hadn’t touched his. Reggie went to the bar and returned with two more lemonades, handing one to Mel. Reggie sat down, staring glumly into his drink.

“What was the deal?” Louis pressed.

“This is so sordid,” Reggie muttered.

“So is prison,” Mel said.

Reggie took a big drink before he went on. “The deal was that if Mark stayed with me, I would leave him alone. And I would help him become a walker.”

“He agreed?”

“Not at first. But I was able to convince him it was an easy way for him to have the kind of lifestyle he wanted, and that he could be a great walker if he tried.”

“So you trained him?” Louis asked.

“You don’t train to be a walker,” Reggie said. “You either have it or you don’t. Mark was very handsome, and he had a certain avoir la gueule. ” When he saw their blank looks, he added, “A certain animal appeal.”

He snuffed out the Gauloise. “All I did was help him round off the rough edges. I got him to a good tailor, taught him how to order wine. Then I started introducing him to my ladies. I was determined to transform him into the kind of gentleman who could escort the richest women in the world. I didn’t want him to have to depend on men to pay him for sex anymore.”

“You’re a regular Pygmalion, Reg,” Mel said.

Reggie’s gaze drifted out toward the ocean. The sunlight was making his eyes water and in them Louis could see both grief and love. But there was something else stewing in them, too. Betrayal?

Reggie seemed to feel Louis’s eyes on him and he reached for a pair of sunglasses and slipped them on.

“What happened?” Louis asked.

“Well, things were good at first,” Reggie said. “He was starting to get some requests for functions. As I watched him blossom, I took great solace in the idea that, if nothing else, I saved him from the awful life he had before.”

Louis couldn’t see Reggie’s eyes behind the sunglasses but he could tell the man was having trouble not breaking down.

“But after a few months I knew something was wrong,” Reggie said. “Mark started drinking heavily and disappearing for days at a time. He was moody and restless, like he was looking for something that he couldn’t find here on the island. God knows what that was. There isn’t anything you can’t get here.”

“Did you talk to him about it?”

Reggie nodded. “One night I got a call from Rusty Newsome. Mark didn’t show up to take her to a party. When he finally came home the next day I asked him what was wrong. He wouldn’t talk about it. And he wouldn’t call Rusty to apologize. It was so embarrassing.”

“That was it? He broke one date?” Louis asked.

Reggie shook his head. “There were others. And he just kept pulling further away from me. I was desperate to keep him, so I started smothering him, nagging him about where he was and who he was seeing. I started buying him all these gifts. For his birthday, I gave him a beautiful monogrammed robe from Kassatly’s. I found it the next day wadded up in the bottom of his closet.”

Reggie fell quiet. The silence was broken by the screech of wild parrots taking flight from a palm tree, streaks of acid green against the vivid blue sky.

“Tell us about the fight at Testa’s,” Mel said. “What started it?”

Reggie took another drink. The ice cubes tinkled against the crystal as he set the glass down. “I found a Patek Philippe in Mark’s bedroom,” he said.

“What’s that?” Louis asked.

“A watch,” Mel said.

“Not just a watch,” Reggie said. “It was a brand-new Calibre anniversary model made just this year. I could only imagine the price.”

“So what? You said you got gifts as a walker,” Louis said.

“Not like that,” Reggie said. “God, even low-end Pateks are twenty grand.”

“Did you ask him about it?”

“I was afraid to tell him because he’d know I had been snooping in his room. So I asked him to meet me at Testa’s for dinner. I was hoping that in a public setting, Mark would be civil and calm.”

“How did he explain the watch?”

“Well, when he showed up I could tell he had been drinking.” Reggie shook his head slowly. “When I showed him the watch, he got very angry. He grabbed it and put it on, saying he had worked hard for it.”

“He was prostituting again?” Louis asked.

Reggie looked miserable. “That’s what I thought, so I asked him. But then he told me that he wasn’t even gay.”

“What?” Louis said.

Reggie put up a hand. “I know, it sounds crazy. He told me he was really straight and only did it to make some easy money. Like I said, he was obsessed with money.”

Louis’s mind churned with questions-all of them too delicate and, hell, maybe too stupid-to ask someone like Reggie. But he had to admit that he didn’t understand a man like Mark Durand. Either you were straight or you weren’t, and if Mark was straight, Louis couldn’t imagine any amount of money that would entice him into a man’s bed.

“So, where did he get the watch?” Louis asked.

Reggie closed his eyes.

“Mr. Kent,” Louis pressed. “You have to tell us.”

“I kept asking him,” Reggie said softly. “Finally, he just exploded and said that he was-pardon my language, these are his words, not mine-that he was ‘fucking some of hottest bitches on the island’ and making more money than he ever thought possible. He said one of them gave him the watch.”

“He swung back to the ladies?” Louis asked.

“Not just any ladies,” Reggie said sharply. “My ladies. My friends.”

Louis sat back in the chair. “You sound angry.”

“I am angry!”

“Why, because he betrayed you?”

Reggie wrenched off his sunglasses. “He betrayed the profession! Don’t you get that?”

Louis just stared at him.

Reggie suddenly rose. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment.” And he disappeared into the house.

Louis heard the tinkle of ice and looked over at Mel. “What the hell is his problem?” Louis said.

“He’s angry,” Mel said, and took a sip of the lemonade.

“I’d say that’s a pretty good motive,” Louis said. “Durand led him on.”

Mel slowly set the tumbler down and sat forward, resting his long hands on his knees. “Forget about the personal shit for a moment,” he said. “Reggie took this guy under his wing and trained him in a profession. Now, we might think it’s a pretty weird profession, but to Reggie it’s a noble calling. And it wasn’t supposed to include sex.”