Michael Ridpath - Final Venture

'Uh-huh,' said John, carefully.

'Yes. He gave me these.' I passed him the envelope. He opened it, and took out the prints. His face froze. Then he closed his eyes.

'So?' he said, blinking.

'So I'd like to ask you about him.'

'Why?' he asked.

'I'm trying to find out who killed him.'

'I don't know who it was.'

I raised my eyebrows.

John let his face fall into his hands. I watched in silence. Eventually, he looked up.

'I loved him,' he said.

I didn't respond.

'We had a fight the night before he died. The last time I saw him was when I stormed out that Saturday morning. I just wish I could have left him on better terms.'

'I'm sorry.'

'It's been awful,' said John. 'The worst part about it is I haven't been able to talk about it with anyone. Or at least anyone who knew Frank.' He was desperately trying to hold back the tears.

'What was the argument about?' I asked gently.

'Oh, I'd been seeing other men. Frank didn't like it. None of them meant anything. It was just casual. But he didn't understand.'

'But weren't you and Frank…?'

'Yes. But I think I was Frank's only lover. I don't think he really admitted to himself that he was gay until he met me. He was very uptight about it. I tried to persuade him to be more open, but he wasn't interested. I think he felt guilty about who he was. It's something we all have to go through, and the sooner it's done the better.'

'Wasn't that why his marriage broke up?' I asked.

'Eventually Frank admitted that that was the reason, but he didn't realize it at the time. He just thought he had no sexual interest in his wife any more. I think he thought he was different from other men. That he was asexual.'

I couldn't really understand. But what John was saying fitted with the way Frank had lived his life for the last fifteen years.

'I was good for him, Simon,' John said simply. 'I made him realize who he really was.'

'Do you have any idea who killed him?'

'No,' said John. 'I kind of thought it might have been you, though I couldn't believe you'd do something like that.'

'The police think I murdered him,' I said. 'But they're wrong. I just need to prove that. Now, I don't think you were involved either.' This wasn't strictly true. I had no idea of John's involvement, but I needed to show trust in him if he was going to trust me. 'But we can't escape the fact that someone did kill him. I know Frank meant a lot to you. You can help me find out who that someone was.'

John looked at me doubtfully.

'At least answer my questions,' I continued. 'It can't do any harm, and it may help.'

'OK,' John agreed reluctantly.

'Was there anything Frank was worried about before he died?'

'Yes, a whole bunch of stuff,' said John. 'He was under a lot of pressure. And not just work pressure, either. He wasn't taking it very well.'

'What sort of pressure?'

'It started off with you.'

'Me?'

'Yes. He was convinced you were having an affair with Diane. He asked me about it. I said I didn't know, but it was clear you two got on awfully well, and you were working a lot together.'

'He gave me a hard time over that,' I said. 'He seemed to be going a bit over the top.'

'I thought so too. But you know how much he dotes on Lisa. And I think he was scared of the parallels with his own situation.'

'What do you mean?'

'Him and me,' said John. 'You see, we were having a relationship through work, which Frank felt guilty about. And then he found out I was seeing other men. He found that hard to take. I kind of feel that he thought he had messed things up with his marriage and then with me, and he didn't want his daughter to get messed up in a similar way. He brooded over it, I'm sure. And then of course we had that big fight on Friday night when he just exploded.'

'What happened?'

'He told me that just because I was gay, he didn't see why it was OK for me to be unfaithful.' John paused. 'I told him I could change. But he wouldn't believe me. He wouldn't give me a chance. So I walked out.'

'When was that?'

About one o'clock in the morning.' John flinched, successfully controlling himself. And I never saw him again.' He paused, struggling to maintain control. 'He called me the next day, but we didn't resolve anything. Then when I called him back, there was no reply'

'I'm sorry,' I said. I realized that John desperately needed comfort, but I couldn't bring myself to give it. 'What about Revere?'

John took in a deep breath. 'There was something there that was bugging him, too. I don't know what it was. We tried not to talk about Revere and the people there too much. When we were working together we'd talk about the deal we were working on, and outside work we'd try to leave it all behind. But something was eating at him.'

'Do you think it had anything to do with Gil retiring?'

'Is he retiring?' John asked, his eyes widening.

'Yes, he is. Sorry. I assumed Frank would have told you.'

'No,' John replied. 'That's absolutely the sort of thing we didn't talk about.'

'What did he think of Art?'

'He thought he was a jerk. I don't think they liked each other much.'

'Did he talk about Art's drinking?'

'I didn't know Art drank,' said John. 'You seem to know a whole lot more about all this than I do.'

'Maybe,' I said. 'I'm amazed the police didn't find out about you and Frank.'

'They did.'

'What?'

'It took them a couple of weeks. They found my fingerprints at Marsh House. At first, I said I'd been there working on deals with Frank, and they believed that. But then the results of some of the other forensic tests came through, which suggested I was doing more in Marsh House than just working. I never went to Frank's apartment in Boston, he was too careful for that. But when the cops interviewed my neighbours, they soon realized we had been together here. Plus, they checked Frank's computer and found some e-mails that made the situation pretty clear.'

'So didn't that make you a suspect?'

John nodded. 'For a day or so. But a neighbour saw me that afternoon, and I went out with some friends in the evening. So, after a while they gave up on me, and started asking about you.'

I groaned. 'Did you tell them anything?'

'Only the truth,' John said. 'I did say Frank was worried about you and Diane, and that there had been some tension between you in recent months. They asked whether Frank was frightened of you, or if you had ever threatened him, and I said absolutely not.'

'I suppose I should thank you.'

John shrugged. 'I was only telling the truth.'

'But now they know he was gay, can't they investigate that angle?'

John's eyes flashed. 'What do you mean?'

'Oh, I don't know. Another gay lover, or something.'

'There was no chance of that,' John snapped. 'I was the only man Frank was with. I told the police I was sure of that.'

'But you said you weren't entirely faithful to him…'

'Yes,' said John angrily. 'And that's something I'm going to have to live with. But Frank was different. That's why we had the fight that night.'

I sighed. Far from my discovery about John pointing suspicion away from me, somehow it only seemed to reinforce what Mahoney already believed. 'The police have kept this quiet, haven't they?'

'So far they've been very discreet. There's Frank's family to consider. Lisa.'

'They're right.' The fewer people who knew about Frank and John the better for Lisa. I was very worried how she would take this. 'John, can you do me a favour?'

'What?'

'If you think of anything that might help me discover who killed Frank, let me know.'

'All right. I will.'

John and I were polite to each other at work the next day. We both had our secrets and suspicions, and it was easier just to pretend that the previous night's conversation hadn't happened. Mahoney came in, set up camp in Frank's office for the morning, and seemed to be interviewing everyone but me. John and Daniel each took their turn. I walked past a couple of times and saw two of Mahoney's assistants going through piles of Frank's files.