Yeah. Some of the best eighteen hours, and then everything went south late the next afternoon. The plan had been to drive home to shower, change, and meet Quinn at Raphael’s, and then he’d follow me back to my condo and spend the weekend.
Only that son of a bitch Davies called my office.
“Is that boy of yours in?”
I scowled at the phone. “Why do you care?”
“You’re going to want to see this, Vincent.”
“See what?”
“A videotape. Your boy is in deep shit.” And he sounded as if that really made his day.
“Why would I…” I remembered The Boss’s instructions, and toned down my language. “… believe a word you say?”
“Because I’m a director, and keep in mind I’m senior to you!” Did he realize I didn’t care two shits? “And I have rock solid proof this time!”
What was it about Matheson that got under Davies’s skin? Last year he’d been behind that thing with Matheson’s secretary, and then he’d tried to nail Matheson for the disappearance of a contractor who’d been subbed out to the Huntingdon Phoenix project. Yeah, my agent was responsible—he was following my orders, but Davies had no proof. In spite of that, he’d tried to coerce Matheson into confessing.
I’d been pleased Matheson hadn’t cracked.
“I’m sending something to your office. I think you’ll find it very interesting. And if after seeing this tape you don’t decide to get rid of Matheson….” God, did I detest the gloating tone in his voice. “However I think you will.”
“What’s on it?” I asked suspiciously.
“You’ll see.”
Again I recalled The Boss telling me I couldn’t give Davies a hard time. “I’ll take a look at it, but this had better be worth my while.”
“Oh, it will be!”
Knowing him, I wasn’t willing to bet the ranch on it. I hung up and waited to see what had gotten him so excited.
The intercom buzzed. “Bancroft is here to see you, sir.”
“Send him in.” Bancroft was Davies’s personal assistant. Had he been on his way down even as Davies was bending my ear?
The door opened and Bancroft walked in. At his elbow was Dev Howard.
“Did you need to see me, Howard?”
“No, sir. I… er… was just passing by.”
“And you felt like paying a visit?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “Well, you did say you wanted to talk to me about Miss Smith. Miss Jones?”
“Yeah, it’s confusing, isn’t it? You’re scheduled to see me on Monday. We’ll talk about it then.” I observed him intently, waiting to see if he had anything to add to the conversation, but he just nodded and kept his mouth shut. I turned my attention to Bancroft. “You have something for me?”
“Yes, sir.” He handed me a black videotape case.
I opened it. The tape inside wasn’t labeled. “Do you know what’s on this?”
“No, sir.”
“Okay. I’ll watch it later. Now—”
“Excuse me, Mr. Vincent, but Mr. Davies insists you watch it immediately.” Bancroft fidgeted, shifting from one foot to the other and worrying the cuticles of his left hand with his left thumbnail, until finally Howard put a hand on his shoulder.
Jesus. Was Howard that protective of his boyfriend? What the fuck did he think I was going to do to Bancroft?
Shaking my head, I rose and went to the TV/VCR combo; most directors and deputy directors had them in their offices. I’d never found the need to use it before this week, but maybe the others had.
I turned on the TV, slipped the tape into the slot, and folded my arms across my chest, waiting for the tracking to straighten out.
The quality wasn’t the best, and the sound was even worse. Maybe that was the reason why I was unable to place the voice of the boy on the tape, in spite of how familiar it sounded.
“Porn?” I snarled at Bancroft as I stopped the tape and shut off the television, and he turned pale. “Davies thinks I’ve got nothing better to do with my time than to watch porn? And bad amateur porn at that? Out! Get the fuck out, now!”
“Er… Mr. Vincent, what am I to tell Mr. Davies?”
“Tell him this is—” Goddammit, if I had to keep a lid on everything I said to Davies, I was going to give myself an ulcer. On the other hand, I couldn’t let his boy see me on the verge of losing it. “Tell him I’ll watch it without an audience.”
He flushed. “Y-yes, sir.” I scowled at him. Did he think I was going to jerk off to it?
Howard grabbed Bancroft’s arm. “Jesus, Xander, what the fuck is your director thinking?”
“Well, yours isn’t—!” The rest of his comment was cut off as Howard hustled him out of my office and shut the door behind them.
I waited until I was sure they were gone and then buzzed Ms. Parker. “I don’t want to be disturbed until further notice.” I didn’t wait for her to acknowledge my order, just released the button and went back to turn on the television.
It turned my stomach. There was nothing arousing about those images: a skinny, redheaded teen with spiked hair, his head drooping and his face turned away from the camera, riding the cock of a man who was at least twice his age although he tried to look younger.
The intercom buzzed. “Ms. Parker, I thought I told you—”
“I’m sorry, sir. It’s Mr. Davies. He was very insistent.”
Yeah, I fucking bet he was. “What line?”
“He’s on two.”
“Thank you.” I drew in a breath, held it for a second, and then blew it out. The last thing I wanted Davies to know was how disturbed I was by this. Yeah, I could kill people without thinking twice about it. I could even torture them without a second thought. But this… this was fucking sick. I paused the tape and pressed two.
“Well? What did you think?”
“I’m cut to the quick, Anson. I thought you knew me better than this.”
“What?” He sounded confused. Good.
“I prefer my porn to be between consenting adults.”
“I’m disappointed in you, Vincent! Didn’t you recognize the boy?”
“Should I have?” I asked, making my words indifferent. The voice was nagging at me, but I still couldn’t place it.
“Of course you should, considering your boy is involved with him! Involved! That’s a laugh. He’s fucking the whore! Or the whore is fucking him!”
Theo? Goddammit! I knew the voice was familiar, but it was a boy’s voice. As for his face… in the clip I’d seen, it was turned away.
“Trevor reprimanded you yesterday, Vincent. He won’t be happy if he has to reprimand you again. God knows he’s had enough complaints about you and how you’re running Interior Affairs.” I couldn’t see the sneer on Davies’s face, but I could hear it in his voice. Smug, supercilious bastard. “He isn’t going to be pleased to learn of this.”
“No, he… he won’t. A whore! Oh, God, a whore! You can’t….” I made my voice strident. “This will ruin my career!”
“Yes, won’t it? And that’s exactly what I plan to do. Unless….”
“‘Unless’ what? I’ll… I’ve got to make this right. How did you get this tape? I have a right to know!”
“Oh, let’s just say I have a friend in the right place.” God, he sounded self-satisfied. And he was buying my act hook, line, and sinker. “Now, when can I expect you to fire Matheson?”
“Why do you want Matheson out of the WBIS?”
“He was never supposed to be in this organization. Someone else—”
So Davies had another of Huntingdon’s personnel in mind for the position Matheson had been given. I needed to contact Matheson and see what he knew about this.
Davies abruptly changed what he was going to say. “He’s not WBIS material.”
And yet Matheson had done everything the WBIS had asked of him. What was it about him that had Davies’s shorts in a bunch?
“He has the day off.”
“I don’t care.” I could almost hear his shrug. “I’ll just go and see Trevor. It’s so handy that his office is just down the hall from Public Relations.”
“I’ll… please, don’t do anything. I’ll call Matheson and tell him he has to come in.”
“I thought you would.” There was a pause, and then he said, “It’s getting late, and I have dinner plans. I’ll give you until Monday. I expect to hear at that time that Matheson has been fired. If I haven’t….” He made the words menacing.
“I… I won’t disappoint you. I promise.”
“I knew you wouldn’t. You’re quite an actor.”
“I… don’t understand.” Had I laid it on too thick? Had he put two and two together and gotten that The Boss hadn’t reprimanded me?
“You have everyone in the WBIS believing you’re dangerous, but you’re nothing more than a loudmouth in a cheap suit. What a laugh!” He hung up.
“You stupid son of a bitch!” I snarled at the phone. He’d faced me before, but he bought the wimp routine? Asshole. And an even bigger asshole for giving me all that extra time. I fisted my hands. I was going to crush him. I hit the intercom. “Ms. Parker, get me Winchester.”
“Yes, sir.”
I looked at my watch. It was almost seven, and fuck it, I was never going to make dinner with Quinn. I took out my cell phone and speed-dialed his number.
It went to voice mail. Damn.
“I’m still at work, and I have no idea how late I’ll be. I’m sorry, I’ll have to cancel. Would you mind letting Raphael’s know not to hold our reservation? I’ll call you when I get home. Bye, babe.”
The intercom buzzed. “I have Winchester on one, sir.”
“Thanks.” I hit one and began speaking. “I’m putting you on a tail.”
“A tail? You mean surveillance? Yes, sir!” How old was he anyway? He sounded like a kid with a new video game. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he was bouncing like the tiger in Winnie the Pooh. “Um… who am I tailing?”
“You know the Director of Public Relations?”
“Mr. Davies? I’ve seen him around.”
“He should be leaving headquarters at any moment. Get your ass down to the lobby and follow him. I want to know who he has dinner with. Oh, and Winchester, don’t let him see you.”
“Yes, sir! Er… no, sir! Er….”
“Get going.”
Then I called Matheson.
“Yes, sir?” He sounded relaxed and sated. Well, shit, I’d probably sounded the same way yesterday.
“I know I gave you the weekend off, but something’s come up and I need you here at headquarters now.”
“I… yes, sir. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“All right.” It was the tail end of rush hour. “Just don’t have an accident.”
“No, sir.”
I was fucking tired of all this bullshit with Davies. Once it was verified that the boy in the video was or wasn’t Theo…. I’d let Davies have a nice, quiet dinner, a nice, complacent weekend, but when he came back to his office on Monday, he was going to be fucking sorry he’d been so anxious for me to see this tape.
This wasn’t the first time he’d interfered with my department, but it was for goddamn sure it would be the last.
***
It was about half an hour later when Matheson came in, a little out of breath.
“Sorry, sir. Traffic….”
“Don’t worry about it. I want you to take a look at this. The face is obscured, but pay attention to the voice.” I started the tape, watching Matheson’s face as he realized what he was seeing.
“Jesus, the kid is so young.” And then he turned ghost white, and I thought for a minute he was going to throw up. “That’s… is that Theo?”
“You’re not sure?”
“No. The voice sounds like his, but without being able to see the face….” He met my eyes. “How did you get this, sir?”
“Davies. He almost had an orgasm making sure I’d seen it.”
“I don’t understand why.”
“He doesn’t like you. He wants you out of the WBIS. You know this agency is very relaxed when it comes to same-sex relationships, but if there’s anything about your partner that could become a hazard to you, that could cause a problem. And Davies has dug up this dirt.”
“I still don’t understand. I haven’t had anything to do with him or his department.”
“No, but you were behind Fitzwilliam’s disappearance.” That operation I’d sent him on last year. Fitzwilliam was dirty, stockpiling weapons that should have gone to the WBIS and selling them to the Russian mob. Matheson had erased him.
“Mr. Davies couldn’t prove that.”
“No. You did a good job. It’s burned his butt he could never bring it home to you.” I tugged on my right ear. “Matheson, who did you bump to get this job?”
“Excuse me?”
“You weren’t supposed to work for the WBIS.”
Color rose in his cheeks, but as I’d noticed before, within seconds it was gone, and he was contained. “No, I’m aware of that, but I should have gotten that promotion—I was the most qualified, so I dressed in work clothes—”
I looked him up and down in the suit he wore, and he shook his head.
“Jeans, a sweatshirt, work boots, and a tool belt. I told the security guard I was an electrician sent by the union to clear up some problem on sixty-seven.”
“Who was the guard?” Dammit, the guard should have been more cautious.
“It was a few years ago…” Matheson shrugged. “… and I never got his name. Anyway, I went up to Human Resources, hacked into their system, and put my name at the top of the list.” He cocked his head. “I already told you that, sir.”
“Yeah.” Last year, after he’d met me at the morgue for Sperling’s autopsy. “You wanted to work for the WBIS so badly?”
“I wanted the promotion, sir. Like I said, I was the most qualified, and it shouldn’t have come down to that. I… uh….” He ran a hand through his hair. “I had no idea the job would take me to DC. I just thought I’d….”
Ah. So it was to see how he’d react to being overlooked. And I imagined Davies’s candidate had done nothing but sit on his hands once he’d thought he was a shoo-in for the job. “Whose name did you replace?”
“Does it make any difference?”
“Davies wanted him in the WBIS enough that he’s giving us grief almost five years later.”
“And I’m sorry about that.” His eyes widened. “So that’s why…” He met my gaze. “Almost four years ago, I was involved in a training exercise that went south in the worst possible way for me. I was sent up to Joseph P. Kennedy Memorial in Weymouth to recuperate after I’d gotten stitched up. My family was told it was a freak motor vehicle incident.”
“But it wasn’t.”
“Of course not. The last thing Mr. Adams would want them to know was what it actually was. He was all kinds of pissed and would have blamed me for the whole situation—”
“Yeah, Davies and Adams were pretty tight at the time.”
“Were they? I didn’t know. I was too busy watching… well, you, to see how you got things done.”
“What?”
“Oh, yes. Most of the junior agents do. And it actually got me out of a sticky situation more than once.”
“I’m glad to hear that, but you were saying?”
He could tell I was uncomfortable about that, but he was smart enough to try to hide his grin. I saw it anyway, but I gave him points for making the attempt. He said, “Anyway, the training tapes revealed I was where I was supposed to be, doing what I was supposed to do. Afterward, it struck me as off, but I could hardly go to Mr. Adams and tell him someone had tried to kill me. All the alphabet agencies think we’re paranoid, but that would be taking it to extremes.”
“You think?”
“No, I guess not. Now that you’ve pointed out how much Davies wants me gone, I’d have to say what happened looks more and more like a setup.” He shook his head. “I just don’t know who I could have gone to at the time.”
“You didn’t consider going to Mr. Wallace?”
He looked startled. “No! Why would I? He’s The Boss.”
“Yeah, but he takes care of his people.” Well, it was water under the bridge now. “So who did you replace?”
“Jerry Black. He worked out of another department, but I’d see him around, either in the cafeteria or at those enrichment things when most of Huntingdon had to show up.”
“Did you ever check him out?”
The tips of his ears turned red, and I was interested to see the color didn’t fade as quickly as when he blushed. “Six feet two, about one ninety. Red hair, blue eyes, and a pretty nice build.”
“Jesus, Matheson. His file! Did you ever check out his file?”
He blushed again, and again it lingered. Because he had something else on his mind? “Sorry, sir. Yes, I did. I’m not you, but I’m not stupid either. I hacked into Huntingdon’s Human Resources system again.” I waited for him to tell me how he’d managed that, but he continued smoothly. “There’s a Jerry Black who works there, only this Black is employed in the mail room, he’s five eight, two twenty, brown hair and eyes. I tried tracking the other guy down, but every lead turned into a dead end, so finally I gave it up.”
“Now that we know he’s somehow involved with Davies…?”
“I’ll try again.”
“Tell me something, Matheson. Are you sorry?”
“Sir?”
“That you wound up in the WBIS?”
“No, sir. It got me Theo.”
It also put him in the position of having to do wet work. Had that been something else to… persuade… him to leave?
“Mr. Vincent, I’m a big boy, and if Mr. Davies wants to take a swing at me, that’s fine. I can take care of myself. But I don’t like Theo being dragged into this.”
“Neither do I, but we might have to. If we had a track of Theo’s voice when he was fifteen we’d have a better shot finding out if he’s this kid.”
“What do we do, sir? I won’t put this department in jeopardy, but I don’t like the idea of making Theo watch this tape, either.”
“You’re going to—” The phone rang, indicating a call direct from Security. Jesus Christ, what the fuck was going on? I picked up the receiver. “Yeah?”
“Mr. Vincent. This is Sanford.” He was one of the security men who worked the public areas of the building. I was a little surprised he was still here. “Sorry to bother you, sir. I have someone down here who wants to see you.” I growled, and I could hear him swallow over the line. “He says he's a friend of yours.”
“What’s the name?” This was the last thing I needed at this point.
“Bascopolis, sir.”
I stared at the phone, and then covered the receiver. “What’s Theo doing here?”
“Theo’s here? I left him….” Matheson scrubbed his face. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m a little….” Yeah, I could see how shell-shocked he was. He’d paused the tape and was staring at the frozen images.
“Sanford, send him up.” I hung up. “Matheson, pull yourself together.” I picked up the remote and turned off the VCR.
“Yes, sir. Sorry.”
“You need a drink?”
***
Last December I’d been called up to The Boss’s office. That had happened a lot lately, another reason for me to be unhappy with this fucking position of deputy director I’d been given. I jogged up the three flights to ten. Ms. DiBlasi waved me in, and I entered.
Mr. Wallace looked up and while he didn’t smile, the expression on his face lightened. “I have something for you, Mark.” He rose and walked around his desk.
“That isn’t necessary, sir.”
“Oh, I think it is.”
“Sir?”
He clipped a name tag to the breast pocket of my suit jacket.
The directors and deputy directors wore them, but I never bothered. As a matter of fact, the tag announcing I was Deputy Director of Interior Affairs was in the bottom drawer of my desk. If anyone in the building didn’t know who I was, they’d find out soon enough. Was this a hint that The Boss wanted me to wear it?
I tipped it back to read it and blinked. No, that couldn’t be right. I twisted it this time so it would be more legible.
Shit, piss, fuck, and son of a goddamn bitch!
“Congratulations, Mark. I know you’ll do a good job and treat your people well.”
I’d been promoted to Director of Interior Affairs.
Stanley, the one-legged Director of Foreign Affairs, was waiting in my office when I’d returned. “I understand we have a reason to celebrate.” He nodded toward the tag that dangled from my pocket. And then he held up a couple of glasses and a bottle of Dewar’s. “Congratulations, Director Vincent.”
***
We’d had a drink, and then I’d tucked the bottle away in the bottom drawer of my desk and hadn’t opened it again, but this might be a good time.
I took out the bottle and a glass. “Matheson?” I waited to find out if he wanted that drink.
“No, sir. I’ll… I’ll be okay.”
Would he? He still looked dazed.
There was a tap on the door and then Ms. Parker opened it. “Mr. Bascopolis, sir.”
Theo swaggered in, but there was something behind his cocksure demeanor….
“Thank you, Ms. Parker. You can leave for the day.”
“Tell Ms. DiNois she can leave also, would you please?” Matheson stood so stiffly he looked like a touch would break him in two.
“Yes, sir. Have a nice weekend.”
“You too.” I wasn’t going to tell her to give my best to Granger and Ms. DiNois. It wasn’t my business.
She closed the door behind her.
“Nice office, Vince.” For some reason, Theo seemed to be fascinated with the Keyser Söze poster that hung on the wall; he wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“Yeah. Why’d you come here, Theo?”
He straightened his shoulders and faced me. “I’m going to fight for him.”
“Excuse me?”
“You said you didn’t need your boy in a state like he was in because he was worried about me.”
When I’d talked to him yesterday. “Civilians,” I muttered under my breath. “That wasn’t what I meant.”
“How was I supposed to know that? I… I thought when you called him in to work, you were going to tell him he had to break up with me. Whatever you did mean, I…” He got a stubborn look on his face. “I’m not giving him up.”
“Fine. We’ve got other worries. Matheson, rewind the tape and play it for Theo.” This was going to suck, but it was better getting it done fast, like ripping off a Band-Aid.
“Sir….”
“I said rewind it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Wills?” Matheson didn’t say anything, so Theo turned to me. “Vince, what’s going on?”
I pulled over a chair. “You’d better sit down.”
“What….” He must have picked up on Matheson’s tension. “What am I going to see?”
Matheson looked away. If his words of love were lies, it was going to kill Theo.
Theo swallowed and licked his lips and watched as the image jumped and wavered before finally steadying.
I watched him watch the tape, his face getting so pale I wasn’t sure if he was going to pass out or throw up.
“Oh, Jesus. Wills, did you…. ” Theo covered his face with both hands. “No more. Please. Turn it off.”
“Is that you?” I asked as once again I stopped the tape.
“Why, Vince? Why make me watch this?”
“Because I needed to be sure it was you.”
“It’s me. I was… I was fifteen, he said he loved me, and…. How did you get this?”
“Long story. Suffice it to say it came into my possession a few hours ago. Are there any more copies?”
“I don’t know. I thought this one had been destroyed. He promised me….” Theo began to shake, and slow tears rolled down his cheeks.
“Oh, baby.” Matheson went to him and took him in his arms. “I’ve got you. I won’t let you go.” He glanced across at me, the expression in his eyes flat and cold. “I let him die too easy.”
“Yeah.” I knew he was talking about the man who’d turned Theo into a whore when he was fifteen. “You should have left it to me.”
“What?” Theo reared back.
Matheson ignored his reaction and asked me again, “Where do we go from here?”
“Nowhere now, but on Monday….” Davies was so anxious to see I got this. I wouldn’t want to deny him the pleasure of seeing my reaction. I picked up the bottle of Dewar’s. “You look like you could use a drink, Theo. Matheson?” I had another glass in that drawer if he felt in need of the fortification.
“No, thank you, sir. I’ll be driving us home.”
I filled the glass for Theo and handed it to him. I didn’t think I had to warn him about taking it easy, but I should have. He belted it back, coughed and gasped, and held out the glass to me. “’Nother one?”
“You’ve had enough.”
“No, I haven’t.”
Why the fuck did that one glass of whiskey go straight to his head? I twisted the cap back on the bottle and put it out of reach.
In a matter of minutes his eyes started to cross.
“Are you drunk, Theo?”
“No. I don’t think so,” he amended.
“I think he is, sir.” Matheson rubbed Theo’s shoulder. “He hasn’t had anything to eat since last evening.”
“Yes, I did!” Theo announced. “I went down on you, don’t you remember? And when you come, I always swallow!” He looked so satisfied with himself, I had to bite back a grin. Matheson, on the other hand, looked like he wished the ground would open under his feet.
I shook my head. “Matheson. Take him home, sober him up, and then tell him what it is you do for a living and why, when you're working, you can't afford to have anything on your mind but the job.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Gettin’ married,” Theo slurred. He kissed Matheson’s cheek and then peered at me and ordered, “You come.”
“I’m not about to tell you it wouldn’t be legal.”
“Don’t care.” He sounded like a three-year-old. “Gonna get married.”
“Yeah, yeah. Matheson, get him out of here.”
“Yes, sir. Come on, Theo.”
“Carry me?” He hopped up, and Matheson caught him and held him without any obvious difficulty. Theo rested his head on Matheson’s shoulder and flirted his eyelashes. “My hero.”
This was why I limited my alcoholic intake. “Go on home.”
“Yes, sir.” He set Theo back on his feet and patted his butt. I pretended I didn’t see.
Theo whispered something in his ear, and a smile lit up Matheson’s face. He was good-looking. Not as good-looking as Quinn, but then as far as I was concerned, no one was.
I watched as they left my office. Love’s young dream.
I glanced at my watch and swore. The evening was shot. Quinn would have canceled our reservations for dinner, and I could hardly show up at his door.
Davies was going to pay heavily for screwing up my weekend.
I ejected the cassette from the VCR and tore the tape out of it. After running it through the shredder, I bagged the bits of black plastic. Before I left for the night, I’d take them down to the incinerator and get rid of them.
I cracked my knuckles and went to my computer. Time to do a little hacking.