Druid II

Chapter 6


The guests in the library gasped when they heard the word murder. The police officer had spoken quite loudly and everyone could hear what he was saying.

Quinn tried not to show that he recognized the name Thierry Desmarais, but he clearly did. Justin immediately went to the foyer to be with Brian. As he approached Brian, he could see that his partner was shaken by the news. Who wouldn’t be? His hand slipped unobtrusively into Brian’s giving a gentle squeeze of support.

“You know Mr. Desmarais, I believe,” the detective was saying to Brian.

“Yes, he’s an old … friend.”

“We found his body this afternoon. There had been a Do Not Disturb sign on his door for days, so finally the maid knocked on the door. When no one answered, she let herself in. She found Mr. Desmarais’ body on the bed.”

“I know Thierry,” Brian said, “but why are you here, as sad as his death may be? I’m not family.”

“You had an appointment with him for two p.m. on Wednesday?”

“Yes.”

“Did he keep that appointment?”

“No,” Brian replied. “I thought he had gone back to Paris.”

“Did you try to contact him?”

“I called the hotel, but there was no answer at his room?”

“You didn’t leave a message?”

Brian glanced at Justin. “It was Thierry that wanted the meeting. I just figured he had changed his mind whatever the reason.”

“So you didn’t speak to him?”

“Um, no, I didn’t speak to him about our meeting on Wednesday, except for his original call saying he was coming to Dublin and wanted to schedule the meeting.”

The detective gave Brian a quizzical look. “What was this meeting about?”

“Thierry seemed to be interested in changing advertising agencies. As you probably already know, I run Triskele Advertising.”

“Yes, we did know that,” Weatherley said as he looked Brian up and down, sizing him up. Brian didn’t think the detective much liked what he saw. “So your meeting was about advertising.” Brian nodded. “Where were you on Tuesday evening?” Weatherley asked.

“Um, Justin and I went to a club.”

“All evening?”

“Yes. What does Tuesday evening have to do with Thierry’s death?”

“What time did you leave the club?” Weatherley asked ignoring Brian’s question.

“Around eleven.”

“And you were together all the time?”

“Except when I had to use the restroom,” Justin offered. “What’s this all about? You sound like you suspect Brian.”

Brian squeezed Justin’s hand. “Yeah, that’s how it sounds,” he agreed.

“The coroner’s preliminary examination puts Mr. Desmarais’ death on Tuesday evening or early Wednesday morning. That’s why we were curious to see if he had kept his appointment with you on Wednesday, Mr. Kinney. We found his list of appointments on his Blackberry. We’re now trying to find any people Mr. Desmarais knew in Dublin, or in Ireland for that matter,” the detective explained. “The manner in which he was killed would indicate great … passion.”

“Passion?” Brian asked.

“Yes.”

“Um, how was he killed … exactly?” Justin asked.

“He was beaten and strangled.”

“Fuck!” Brian reacted.

“Officer,” Quinn said as he stepped out of the library. Brian was sure they had all been listening.

“It’s detective,” the policeman replied.

“Pardon me,” Quinn apologized. “But I thought I should mention that I also knew Thierry Desmarais.”

Brian shot Quinn a look, but Quinn ignored him.

“And how did you know him?”

“He was a client at my establishment.”

“Establishment?”

“I run a very high class quoin near Barney Castle.”

“Is that right?” the detective asked, obviously surprised that Quinn was volunteering such information.

“Mr. Desmarais has been a client for a year or so.”

“Was he in contact with you on this trip?”

Quinn shook his head. “No, he wasn’t.”

“Thank you for stepping forward, Mr…?”

“O’Donnell.”

Brian opened his mouth to say something, but quickly clamped it shut.

“If there’s nothing else, detective,” Justin said, “we were in the middle of a party.”

“I’m sorry to disturb you. If you think of any other information that might be helpful, please call. Here’s my card.” The detective handed a card to Justin before giving Brian a last look. Then he turned and walked to the front door.

“Good evening,” Justin said before closing the door behind the two policemen. “What a way to spice up a party,” he tried to joke. He glanced at Brian who seemed to be frozen in place. He had a strange, faraway look on his face. “Brian?”

Brian seemed to snap out of it at the sound of his name. “I … I can’t believe Thierry is dead.”

“I could use a drink,” Quinn said.

“We all could,” Justin replied.

They made their way back into the library. Everyone just stared unable to express what they were feeling. Pats took that moment to return from putting Little Mick down upstairs.

“What’s going on?” she asked as she observed the silence and somber faces.

“You missed the excitement,” Quinn replied. “A … friend of mine and Brian’s has been murdered. That was the police at the door.”

“Detectives,” Brian corrected. He was starting to feel more like himself. He didn’t want Thierry’s death to spoil the party.

“My goodness,” Maggie said, “I don’t believe I’ve ever been so close to a murder.” She pulled the collar of her blouse closer around her neck, seemingly a defensive move to ward off bad karma.

“Did you know Mr. Desmarais?” Jennifer asked her.

“No, I can’t say as I did, but I’ve never been somewhere that the police were questioning people about a murder either.”

“No, I haven’t either,” Jennifer said, as Justin handed her another glass of red wine. She shot a disapproving glance in Brian’s direction. Obviously this interruption was Brian’s fault. Good people didn’t have the police at their doors. “Did you know this Mr. Desmarais?” she asked her son.

“No, but Brian has mentioned him before. I knew there was a business meeting with him this week, and that he never attended it.”

“I guess Quinn and Brian were the only ones who knew the man,” Jennifer said thoughtfully. “Odd that they should both be here when Mr. Desmarais was murdered.”

“Technically I wasn’t here,” Quinn jumped in. “I was in Blarney.”

“You said you ran a high class quoin,” Jennifer said remembering Quinn’s words. “What is a quoin? I’ve never heard that word before. Is it a spa?” she asked innocently.

Quinn took a gulp of his scotch. Justin noticed that he glanced at Brian before answering. He wasn’t sure how his mother would take Quinn’s explanation of what a quoin actually was.

“Do I look like a hairdresser?” Quinn asked trying to avoid answering Jennifer’s question directly.

“Not really, but who knows what a hairdresser looks like these days,” Jennifer joked.

“I can assure you that I’m not a hairdresser.”

“Then what is a quoin?” Jennifer persisted.

Quinn looked at Molly who was listening intently, and then at Brian who merely shrugged. It looked like it was all going to come out.

“A quoin is a high class brothel for gay men.”

Jennifer managed to keep her mouth from dropping open. She stared blankly at Quinn as the full meaning of his words began to sink in. It also raised so many questions about Brian. What had this man to do with a … quoin? Was he a client there? Had he sucked her son into some kind of unsavory lifestyle? Did they go there together? Jennifer shuddered.

“And what does Brian have to do with this quoin?” she felt compelled to ask aloud once the impact of what a quoin was had settled in.

“I worked there,” Brian supplied, deciding that Quinn shouldn’t be the one put on the spot.

“I see,” she finally said taking a drink from her wineglass. She willed her hand not to tremble as she did so.

Brian looked at Justin’s mother, noticing the color had drained from her face at his words. He heard her say, “I see.” He had no idea what she was seeing, and he didn’t want to venture a guess. If the look on her face was any indication, she didn’t see anything pleasant.

“I’m sorry if I shocked you,” Quinn was saying.

“I suddenly feel rather tired,” Jennifer said carefully. She stood up.  “I think Molly and I will retire for the evening. It was … nice to meet all of you.” Jennifer motioned to Molly who stood up. She seemed to know from the look her mother gave her that she shouldn’t argue.

“Good night,” Molly said as she followed her mother out of the library.

“Mom,” Justin called, but she didn’t stop.

“I’ll go,” Brian volunteered.

Justin shook his head in confusion and worry, but he let Brian follow his mother and sister into the foyer.

“Mrs. Taylor,” Brian said formally.

Jennifer stopped on the first step of the stairs. “Go up to your room, Molly,” she ordered. Molly looked at Brian but ran up the stairs as she had been directed. “What do you want, Brian?” she asked turning to face her son’s lover.

“I … I wanted to explain.”

“I don’t think there’s anything you can say that I want to hear. I’m really tired. I’m going to bed,” Jennifer said with finality.

Brian knew it was useless to continue. He never explained about his life anyway. He had thought for a minute that maybe he would explain this one time, but he knew it was useless. Nothing he could say would make Jennifer accept him. He watched her disappear up the stairs. Her back was rigid and unforgiving. He suspected that’s what her attitude would be too. He returned to the library.

“I think I’m going to head back to Blarney,” Quinn said as soon as he saw Brian. “I think I’ve done enough to destroy your party.”

“I’ll be comin’ with ye,” Maggie said standing up.

“You don’t have to leave,” Justin said quickly.

“I think it’s best if I go, and Maggie’s welcome to a ride back with me. I’ll just call my driver,” Quinn told them. He pulled out his cell phone.

“Thank you for inviting us, Brian dear,” Maggie said. “It was a lovely dinner. We’ll have to get together when all of this is over.”

“Hopefully that won’t be too long,” Brian replied giving Maggie a hug.

“Don’t worry,” Maggie whispered to him. “It will all get sorted.”

“My driver will be here in a couple of minutes,” Quinn informed them as he closed his phone.

“I’m sorry this evening didn’t go better. It was supposed to be fun,” Brian replied.

“I’ll be in touch,” Quinn said. “We better walk out. My driver should be pulling up momentarily.”

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Brian agreed. He walked his two old friends to the front door. Just as he opened the door Quinn’s car pulled up in front of the house.

“Good night, me laddo, and thank you for a great meal,” Quinn said shaking Brian’s hand.

Brian winced as Quinn squeezed his still tender hand. But Brian managed not to make a scene about it. He didn’t want everyone to know about his knuckles.

“Thank you again,” Maggie said as she climbed into the car.

Brian watched the car proceed down the street and turn the corner. Then he went back inside.

“You okay?” Justin asked as he met Brian in the foyer. Brian nodded even though he wasn’t sure how true that was. “Pats and Mick are talking about leaving tonight too.”

“Fuck!” Brian muttered. “This wasn’t how the evening was supposed to end.”

“It’ll be all right,” Justin said hoping against hope that it would work out that way.

“Yeah, your mother thinks… I don’t know what she thinks, but it can’t be good,” Brian said shaking his head.

“We’ll deal with her,” Justin replied staring into Brian’s eyes.

“Brian, Justin, I’m sorry to interrupt,” Pats said as she came out of the library, “but Mick and I have talked and we think maybe we should go home too.”

“No, please,” Justin begged. “We don’t want you to go.”

“It might be best,” Pats said. Mick nodded in agreement.

“You’ve had far too much to drink to be driving,” Brian said sternly to Mick. “I won’t be responsible for you running into a tree … or something worse.”

“And Little Mick is asleep,” Justin added. “Please stay.”

Pats looked from Justin to Brian to her husband. “If you really want us to…”

“We do,” Brian and Justin said at the same time.

“And you can run interference for me with a certain blonde lady in the morning,” Brian added with a crooked grin.

“Oh well then,” Pats laughed, “since you need me…”

“We do,” Brian said.

“Then we’ll stay.”

“Good, let’s have another drink.”



*****



It was a couple of hours later before everyone was ready to turn in. As they made their way upstairs, Brian had to wonder what new disaster the morning would hold.