when they play handball, but Charles is an absolute mess. He wouldn’t even talk about it on the phone. Insisted we meet in person. With all his connections, he couldn’t think of anyone to call, so I mentioned you.” Pause, with intent. “I sort of offered your services.”
“Nice touch. So what exactly is the problem?”
“I don’t know.”
“Not helpful. Are you saying he wouldn’t tell you?”
“He was too afraid to tell me. All I know is it has something to do with the murder of Yuri Malevski, owner of the Saddle and Bridle.”
“The country-and-western bar on Richmond?”
“That’s the one. They’re a rough crowd to look at, but mostly pussycats when you meet them. They host the Mr. Leather Contest when it’s in town.”
“I heard they closed after the murder.”
“They did. Yuri was killed at his home in Parkdale, but the bar’s been locked up ever since. Apparently the police are looking for evidence of immigration scams, not to mention the usual narcotics aspect and anything else that comes to light. They think Yuri was running all that through the bar.”
“I’m sure they’ll be thorough, since it was a gay bar.”
“There was also a rumour Yuri was making payoffs to someone, so they’ll be looking for that, too.”
“Payoffs for what?”
“Ah.” Dan heard a sharp intake of breath as the cigarette swung into action. “That I do not know. For the answer, we must consult Charles. The reservation’s in an hour.”
The place was packed. Fifteen years earlier, Toronto had barely heard of sushi. When you could find the stuff, it was priced to the hilt. Now it was de rigueur at cocktail hour in all the stylish homes and there was an izakaya — or sake house — on every other corner. From feeling squeamish about raw fish and squiggly things on their plates to becoming connoisseurs in a decade and a half, Torontonians had made the leap and landed solidly on both feet.
Dan sipped his soda water and looked across at Charles the lawyer as he deftly scissored a maki roll with chopsticks and lifted it to his mouth. He was, Dan noted, expertly groomed and outfitted in the image of a successful man. His moustache looked hand-manicured. Donny was right, however. Despite being textbook-handsome, Charles wasn’t exotic enough for Dan’s recall. He’d met a thousand Charleses in his time, each indistinguishable from the next. In his opinion, they put more emphasis on their couture and professional alliances than anything that might reasonably be called a personality. Still, he reminded himself, it wasn’t their fault. They were programmed by their upbringings and choice of career. But this Charles at least was passionate about something: his husband’s security.
“He doesn’t actually know I’m here,” he confided to Dan.
“Lionel’s a very private guy,” Donny seconded.
“Even more than me,” Charles said, smiling broadly. “And I’m the lawyer in the family.”
“How do you think he’d feel if he knew you were discussing his private matters without his knowledge?” Dan asked.
Charles leaned in. “I’m counting on your discretion, Dan. If he felt you were on his side, or at the very least that you wouldn’t say anything about this to anyone else, I’m sure he’d be fine about it.”
A lawyer’s answer.
“And if I were meeting him to discuss your private concerns, how would you feel?”
Charles looked uncomfortable for a millisecond then smiled his winning smile again. His eyes floated lightly over Dan’s chest. “I’d be fine knowing I was in your capable hands.”
Dan caught the flirtation under the remark, but let it pass. “Then let’s talk,” he said.
Donny relaxed visibly and leaned back. Maybe, just maybe, his best friend was not going to be the uptight prude he so often proved. Dan didn’t like to disappoint Donny, but he wouldn’t step outside the bounds of his profession without good reason. Having an attractive lawyer for an ex-boyfriend did not constitute good reasoning to Dan’s thinking.
Charles looked at Dan. “When we spoke, Donald assured me this would be kept in strict confidence.”
Dan shot a glance at Donny: Donald?
Charles continued. “When I told him why I was concerned, he explained that you might be the best person to turn to, all things considered.”
“All things considered?” Dan said.
Charles’s smile crumpled. “Sorry, I wasn’t … when you hear what I’m about to tell you, I think you’ll understand my hesitation.”
“Okay. Shoot.”
“As Donald has told you, Lionel was chief accountant for a bar called the Saddle and Bridle.”
“I’m familiar with it,” Dan said.
“Then you will know that the owner, Yuri Malevski, was found murdered a couple of months ago.”
“Yes. I’d heard.”
“Lionel was also Yuri’s personal accountant.”
Charles paused. It seemed a cue for something.
Dan cocked his head to encourage him to continue. “And?”
“Well …” Charles blinked and smiled again. It seemed to be his default when all else failed.
The penny dropped. “And being Yuri’s personal accountant required a certain amount of discretion on Lionel’s part,” Dan suggested.
Charles nodded and turned to Donny. “This guy’s good,” he said.
Dan got the message: saying things for Charles meant he did not have to make any potentially incriminating statements himself.
“Which is why Lionel is reluctant to talk to anyone,” Dan went on, half guessing. “But surely the police have already questioned him about the murder?”
Charles’s expression turned grave. “They did. Lionel is afraid because of what he knows. When Yuri didn’t show up at their last meeting —”
“Sorry, when was this?” Dan interrupted.
“Two months ago. Right after we got back from Mexico. Lionel and Yuri were scheduled to meet the day after we returned. It was a Saturday. February twelfth, to be exact. Yuri called on Tuesday and left a message while we were away on a jungle tour. Lionel didn’t get it till Thursday. When he called back, the mailbox was full, so he left a message on Yuri’s home phone.”
“And Yuri was a no-show on Saturday. What happened?”
“Lionel called Yuri’s cell a couple of times in the morning, but there was no answer. He showed up at the bar for their meeting, but no one had seen Yuri. So Lionel tried his home. Still nothing. Nor had there been any further communication from Yuri saying he wanted to postpone the meeting. It was a monthly affair, so Yuri always knew in advance when he needed to change the date. Anyway, when Yuri didn’t show up, Lionel started to worry that something had happened to him.”
“Why?”
Charles shrugged. “He knew Yuri’s lifestyle: sketchy friends, drug users, and rent boys. You name it — if it was dirty, Yuri was into it.”
Dan nodded. “What did Lionel do next?”
“He called a few friends and business associates, including one of the bar managers who was off duty that day. Turns out no one had heard from Yuri for several days, in fact. They went over to the house and found the front door was double-locked and that he’d changed the entry code. That was odd, too, since Yuri always told Lionel when he changed the code. But this time he hadn’t.”
“Who