Cold Case - 5. Chapter 5

“I need some pajamas.”

“What?” Miao Shou looked down at Nico, eyebrows raised. “What do you think I am, the YMCA? I can lend you a pair of crotchless panties if you want. Something tasteful in leatherwear?”

“That's not gonna help my situation at all.” Nico looked around to make sure Ryan hadn't followed him out of the room they'd been given. “I can't sleep in the nude with him. He'll just take it as an invitation.”

“So sleep in your skivvies.”

“Eeew.”

“You shouldn't be so prissy,” Miao Shou said.

“I'll just go sleep in the lobby on the couch there,” Nico said, turning away.

“No you won't,” Miao Shou said. “You're gonna make my lobby look like a bus station full of homeless people.”

“I'm going home,” Nico said. “I've had enough of this.”

“I can't let you do that,” Miao Shou said. “I promised Matsumoto. Listen, I'll lend you some of my jammies. But you have to take care of them. I don't want them coming back with any rips or tears in them. And no body fluids either, you want to do anything like that, you take em off.”

“I don't intend to have anything to do with any body fluids,” Nico said. “Thanks, Shou.”

“They're not gonna fit you,” Shou said. “You'll have to roll up the legs. Don't leave them trailing and get them dirty.”

“You call me prissy?” Nico received a glare for that. “Okay, okay, don't worry. I'll give you your PJs back in good condition.”

Nico went back into the room he was sharing with Ryan. It was a pleasant room, wallpaper featuring gentle chrysanthemums; potted plants and feng shui all over the place. He'd have enjoyed the ambience if he'd had the room to himself.

Ryan was sitting on the edge of the satin-swathed double bed, staring into space. He turned when Nico came in and looked at the younger man with an expression that suggested he was debating something with himself.

“You wanna go to bed?” he asked. “If you want the bed, I can sleep on the chair.”

Nico looked at the chair. It didn't seem the kind of chair you'd want to sleep on. It was more the kind of chair you'd put at the dining table. A Sally Bowles kind of chair. He wondered what kind of sexual activities involved a chair like that. Then he realised he'd probably better refrain from any thoughts of that nature. Who knew where that might lead?

“You can't sleep on that,” he said. “You'll fall off. You can sleep in the bed with me. Just don't – do anything.”

“What, like breathe?” Ryan gave Nico a look he couldn't interpret.

“I don't want you to die,” he said. “Why would you think that?”

“You hate me,” Ryan said. “I don't blame you.”

“Huh?”

“What I did. I didn't – I'm really sorry for what I did.” Ryan stared down at the ground. “I wanted to call you.”

“So why didn't you?” Nico asked. “You know, this'd be more believable if you hadn't just done the same thing last week.”

“I don't know why I did that,” Ryan said. “I suppose – I'd been drinking and I thought – I wanted to call you. For the last six years I wanted to call you.”

“I say again – why didn't you?” Nico said. “I've been here all this time.”

“You were studying,” Ryan said. “I thought it'd distract you. Then you got this job and I thought you were working for your grandfather.”

“I told you I'd never work for him,” Nico said.

“Defense lawyer?” Ryan made the words sound like Hitler saying 'homosexual gypsy.' Or a homosexual gypsy saying 'Hitler' for that matter. “What kind of clients do you get? Are you telling me none of them work for your grandfather? Are you trying to tell me he doesn't send his guys to you?”

“Yeah, well,” Nico went over and sat on the chair. It was uncomfortable and he was glad he hadn't told Ryan to sleep on it. “I wanted to be a prosecutor. But my family – you can imagine. And then I had my mom nagging about how I couldn't live on the salary and I wouldn't have any nice clothes and so on.”

“Because that's the most important consideration when you're picking a lifetime career,” Ryan said. “Oh, wait. Maybe it is for a defense lawyer.”

“I know, I know.” Nico sighed. “I never wanted to be a lawyer at all. So I guess it didn't really matter to me which kind of lawyer I became.”

“What did you want to be?” Ryan looked up. “A cop?”

“Urgh, no.” Nico laughed. “Can you see me doing that? In a uniform and everything? Getting dirty and messy and having people spit on me and stuff? No, I wanted to be a doctor.”

“Really?”

“Don't look so surprised,” Nico said. “Why shouldn't I?”

“You get really dirty and messy as a doctor,” Ryan said. “You probably have a bunch of people spit on you as well. Vomit, too. And all the spit and vomit has diseases in it.”

“Yeah, but it's for a good reason.”

“Because cops never do anything for a good reason.”

“I'm just not interested in being part of the criminal justice system.” Nico tried to explain. “I wanted to do a medical degree because – well, because that's what interests me. How people work. Fixing them when they don't work too well.”

“So why didn't you?”

“I don't know.” Nico shook his head. “It just seemed – I was worried that if I did – this is in confidence, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Ryan nodded.

“I was worried that I'd be a doctor and I'd end up treating guys with gunshot wounds who didn't want to go to the hospital. Guys who worked for my grandfather.”

“I can see how that would be a concern,” Ryan said. “But – couldn't you have done that and done some regular medicine as well?”

“I didn't want to.” Nico paused, trying to frame words. “I suppose – I'd rather be a dirty lawyer than a dirty doctor.”

“You didn't want to tarnish your dream?” Ryan asked.

“Yeah.” Nico looked at Ryan in surprise that he seemed to understand the problem.

“What, you think I've never had a moral dilemma?” Ryan smiled. “I've had a lot of em. Unfortunately, I usually take the path of least resistance. But you know that, don't you?”

“Like when you didn't call me?”

“Yeah, like that.”

“I can't believe you did that,” Nico said. “I mean – if you had no intention of calling me, why did you say you would? If you thought it'd get me to blow you in my uncle's pergola – well, I would have done that anyway. I did do that anyway, come to think of it. You didn't say you'd call me till after I'd done that.”

“I meant to,” Ryan said. “Then your cousin Santo got shot and everyone was saying your grandfather ordered it because he was gay -”

“I never heard that!” Nico interrupted.

“People are not gonna tell you stuff like that, are they?” Ryan said. “About your family? Besides, I'm a cop, I hear about that kind of thing.”

“I was at college,” Nico said. “But – Santo? I can't believe my grandfather -”

“You've always been terrified of him finding out you're gay,” Ryan said. “Why is that, do you think?”

“I -” Nico thought about it. “I guess – I was worried what he might do. I don't actually know what he might do.”

“Nobody wants to think their family would despise their way of life enough to kill them,” Ryan said. “But it's probably as well you never let him find out. You didn't did you? I mean – that isn't what all this is about, is it?”

“How could it be?” Nico said. “I don't even have a boyfriend. I just have porn and fantasies. Besides, why would that lead to somebody trying to frame you?”

“I don't know,” Ryan said. “One thing I do know, though. I owe you something.”

“What?” Nico paused as somebody knocked at the door. He went to answer it.

“No stains.” Shou was standing there, holding out a pair of black satin pajamas.

“Those are nice,” Nico said. “Thanks. I'll take care of them.”

“What's that?” Ryan asked as Nico went back into the room.

“Shou's jammies,” Nico said. “He lent me them. So what is it you think you owe me?”

“Come and sit down.” Ryan patted the bed beside him.

“I don't want to.” Nico ignored the cop's pleading gaze and left the room, going to look for the showers. He took his jammies with him. He wasn't getting changed in front of Ryan. Not one inch of skin was going to be on show tonight.

*****

“You should try these shrimp,” Billy said. “They're incredible.”

He stabbed one with his fork and held it out to Matsumoto, who ate it.

“What about me?” Piri said. “Don't I get to try the incredible shrimp? Are you trying to starve me?”

Matsumoto and Billy looked at Piri's plate and burst out laughing. The Poet had taken full advantage of the buffet menu to pile his plate high, balancing food with the skill of a Jenga master.

“Are you my date as well?” Billy asked. “I only give shrimp to my dates.”

“Just your shrimp?” Piri raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe some other stuff,” Billy said, passing a second shrimp to Piri.

“Is that stuff bigger than a shrimp?”

“I certainly hope so,” Billy said.

“Is it bigger than a breadbox?” Matsumoto asked. He poured them all some more water from the carafe. Nobody wanted anything stronger; Piri didn't drink alcohol at all, Billy had declined as he felt it interfered with his thought processes and Matsumoto wasn't sure at this point if he was still at work or not.

He leaned back in his chair and realised that he was enjoying himself. Good food, an interesting case, eccentric company – what else could he want? Looking around the room, he decided he could wish that the owners hadn't decorated it with quite so many dead stuffed fish. Their eyes had a tendency to stare at the diners in an accusatory way.

“Never mind the flirting,” Billy said. “We're all adults. We all know we want to fail to sleep in the same bed tonight. Go on, Matsumoto. You were telling me about your case.”

“There's no more to tell,” Matsumoto said. “I called everyone I knew at the 51st, but I got nowhere. All they knew was what they'd been told – that someone had reported that Ryan killed Rims and Nico. An anonymous call. When I told them Nico was alive, they were just – well, to be honest, I think they thought I'd made a mistake.”

“Yeah, cause it's easy to mistake a corpse for an alive person,” Piri said. “That explains my grandmother.”

“What?” Matsumoto and Billy said.

“Used to go to funerals and talk to the guest-of-honor,” Piri said. “She got in a real snit if it was a closed coffin. She'd bang on it like she was expecting them to open the door.”

“Eccentricity runs in the family, I take it?” Billy said.

“Yeah, Professor, thank you,” Piri said.

“That's Doctor,” Billy said. “Not Professor.”

“For real?”

“Uh huh,” Billy said. “DPhil, not MD. So don't come to me if you decide to follow your grandmother's example and end up getting lynched by the grieving relatives. What about the guys, Matsumoto? The ones that Ryan and Nico got attacked by?”

“Apparently they said they worked at the meat plant,” Matsumoto said. “They said they were just – you know, working, moving meat around or whatever – and Ryan attacked them and made them go in the freezer.”

“This is sounding more and more crazy,” Piri said.

“No, that makes sense,” Matsumoto said. “If Ryan did want to kill Nico and he wanted to do it in some weird ritualistic way involving frozen meat -”

“There's a lot of symbolism there,” Billy put in.

“Then he'd have to get rid of the guys that were working there,” Matsumoto said.

“Yeah, but that's not what happened,” Billy stared up at the ceiling, shrimp-holding fork forgotten. Piri took the opportunity to snaffle another one from his plate. “Nico said the guys who took him told him they were going to kill him. They took his clothes to reinforce the appearance of it being a crazy sex crime.”

“Or revenge,” Matsumoto said.

“Revenge for what?” Piri asked through a mouthful of Billy's shrimp. “Is that gnocchi you've got there, Matsumoto? I must have missed those.”

“Help yourself,” Matsumoto nudged his plate across. “Nobody knows exactly why, but something happened between Nico and Ryan at some point in the past. Now they make a point of needling each other every time they meet.”

“So what was the intention?” Billy wondered. “To kill Nico – with a handy suspect that he had a history of disagreeing with – or to set up Ryan by using Nico in the same way. As somebody Ryan might kill if one of their arguments went too far. A crime of passion, if you will. And where does Rims Colluci's murder fit into this?”

Matsumoto thought about it. “I think Rims was collateral damage,” he said. “He was just there and had to be killed because he saw what was really going on. As for the rest of it – it looks like both of those scenarios. I mean, you can't tell which one it is. Because to do this at all, somebody must have been watching both of them. They needed to know when they intersected so they could grab them both. I don't think we're gonna be able to do anything with motive until we find out more about who did it. Then it might become clear who'd want to kill Nico or discredit Ryan.”

“That's what you need to do, then,” Billy said. “Find out who those guys were. And you've got part of them just waiting to be picked up.”

“The blood,” Matsumoto said. “Ryan smashed one of the guy's heads against the freezer door.”

“Won't the other detectives have scraped that up with a cotton bud or whatever it is they do?” Piri asked.

“It's very hard to get rid of all traces of blood,” Matsumoto said. “There could be other stuff left, anyway. There's an MP5 somewhere, or there might be. Nobody at the 51st mentioned finding it, so maybe it's got thrown in a corner and overlooked.”

“When I watch CSI Miami, they never overlook anything,” Piri said.

“Yeah, well, they've got all the personnel they could ever want and all the time in the world to pose with their hair flying in the breeze and a budget the size of God's,” Matsumoto said. “We have to work in the real world. The understaffed, overworked, underfunded one. Billy, do you think you can find out for me who owns that meat packing plant?”

“No problem," Billy said. "You want to come round to my place when you're done? It's just round the corner from the precinct house.” He brought out a small notepad and a pen and wrote down the address for Matsumoto.

“Am I coming?” Piri said.

“Yeah, you can come with me,” Billy said. He looked across the table and winked at Matsumoto. “We'll get things warmed up for you.”

“I think we should go with Matsumoto,” Piri said. “He might need some help.”

“Thanks for the offer,” Matsumoto said. “But no thanks.”

“Why not?”

“I'm a cop,” Matsumoto said. “If I get found creeping around somewhere in the dead of night, I can come up with a good reason for it. What's yours? Criminal trespass? Burglary?”

“I see your point,” Piri said. “Okay. Are you going right now, though? What about dessert?”

“Sweetheart,” Matsumoto said as he got up to leave, “you are my dessert.”

*****

Nico came back from showering to find Ryan in bed, apparently asleep. But apparently didn't mean anything with Ryan. Ryan and the truth seemed to spend most of their time on parallel tracks.

“I know you're awake,” Nico said. He piled his clothes neatly on the chair and got into bed. At least Ryan had left him enough space.

“Why would you mention that?” Ryan finally said, making Nico jump. He'd got to the point where he'd decided Ryan was asleep – or at least, that he didn't want to talk.

“For God's sake!” Nico said. “Why would I mention what?”

“That I'm awake?” Ryan rolled over, raised himself on his elbow and looked down at his bedtime companion. “Unless, perhaps – there's something you want from me?”

“There's nothing I could possibly ever want from you,” Nico said, uneasily aware that the top half of Ryan was naked. What about the rest of him? Surely he'd kept his underwear on. He would have done – wouldn't he?

“What about that thing I owe you?” Ryan asked. “Don't you want that?”

“What thing?” Nico couldn't remember ever lending Ryan anything that he wanted back. “I don't remember what it is.”

“Sure you do.” Ryan smiled. It was a sexy, disturbing smile. Nico closed his eyes. He didn't want to see it. “I know you remember it,” Ryan went on. “You mentioned it to me this evening.”

“What?” Nico opened his eyes again, annoyed. “I mentioned what? I lent you what? I don't know what you're talking about.”

“You didn't lend me anything,” Ryan leaned a little closer. Nico shuffled back, hoping he wasn't going to end up falling out of bed. “You gave me something. And now I feel it's only right I give you one back.”

“One – what?” Nico asked. He had a nasty suspicion he knew what it was and he really shouldn't have asked, but the question was out before he could censor himself.

“A blowjob,” Ryan said.

“No.” Nico sat up and moved as far away from the looming cop as he could without ending up on the floor. “No, no, no, no. Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” Ryan said. “Listen.”

“Huh?” Nico listened. He realised that he could hear distant noises from elsewhere in the building. Faint cries and moans.

“House of Flowers is open for business,” Ryan said, moving a little nearer. “Everyone's having sex of one kind or another. Why not us? Are you gonna lie there all night and listen to that without wanting any for yourself?”

“Maybe I'll go and hire myself a whore, then,” Nico said.

“Why spend the money when you can have it for free here?” Ryan reached out and ran a finger over the silky material covering Nico's chest. Whether by accident or design, his fingertip grazed a nipple. Nico shuddered.

“Doing anything with you leads to all kinds of complications,” he said. “I don't wanna spend the next six years in misery.”

“Okay, how about this?” Ryan sat up and stared down at Nico. “I want to put right what I did six years ago. But I realise I can't do that. Because, well, six years has passed and you've been angry with me all that time and I can see I really upset you. I can't take back all that time.”

“Yeah, so?” Nico wondered what was coming. He wondered why he was even listening to this. What was it with Ryan that when he spoke, Nico's willpower vanished into vapour?

“So why don't you lie back and let me give you a good time,” Ryan said. “No questions asked, no strings attached. Just sex. For the night. And then in the morning, we'll see where we want to go from there.”

“No,” Nico said. He didn't sound convincing, even to himself. “No, certainly not,” he tried. “Look, you know that won't work. You can't say no questions, no strings. We've got too much history. It's bound to get in the way.”

“I don't want to do this,” Ryan said. “I'm just offering for your benefit.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I am,” Ryan insisted. “I want you to see that I can be trusted. But there's nothing I can say that'll persuade you of that. So I thought, well, I'll do something instead.”

“Me,” Nico said. “That's what you wanna do. This is just -”

“How does me blowing you equate to me doing you?” Ryan asked.

“I have no idea,” Nico said. “What I know is, that somehow or other, it does.”

“Fine.” Ryan lay down and rolled over, presenting Nico with his back. “I'm wasting my time. Good night.”

Nico didn't reply. He was looking for the angle. Was he supposed to say he was sorry now? Then Ryan would say – something – then the whole blowjob question would get opened up again... well, he wasn't sorry.

He lay down with a sigh. Why did everything have to be so difficult? If only he could just have sex with Ryan, which was what he'd been looking forward to six years ago, and then move on. In fact, was it possible that he would never be able to move on until he had sex with Ryan? That was a horrible thought. What was worse was the possibility that he was now trying to talk himself into having sex with Ryan and never mind the consequences.

Nico rolled over, trying to get comfortable and sighed again. Someone walked past the door, laughing, then there was a squeak as if somebody got goosed.

“Fuck this,” he said, sitting up. “Do it.”

“Hmmmh?”

“You're not asleep, stop pretending. Get your head off the fucking pillow, come over here and suck my dick.”