River beckoned them to the side of the cheese counter where a fire-exit door led to a back corridor. The stench of fish seemed to be ingrained in the breeze-block walls.
‘Wass up?’ he asked.
Kim realised he not only looked like a different person but was acting like a different person. The boy they’d seen on Wednesday had been a shining star, full of life and vitality. This person was faded, lifeless, invisible.
‘River, have you taken over Jamie’s social media?’
‘Yeah, I closed it right down to include only people he knew personally and changed the visibility.’
‘Why?’
He shrugged. ‘I put a memorial post on and he wouldn’t have liked the comments.’
‘Like what?’ Bryant asked.
River sighed heavily. ‘Just things like “one less faggot in the world” and “one down three million to go” and that’s just the ones that weren’t filthy and obscene. There were too many. It wasn’t what I wanted. I posted so his life could be remembered for the sweet, funny guy that he was.’ River wiped at his eyes. ‘But the ignorant pricks even had to spoil that.’
Kim felt her heart ache for this boy who had wanted to do something nice for his friend and it had been met with hostility and aggression. The freedoms were not the same regardless of how far we’ve come, Kim realised.
She pulled her mind back to the case even though a sense of sadness was stealing over her at the transformation that had taken place in front of her in a few short days.
‘River, were there any messages or posts that might help us?’
River balked. ‘You think Jamie was in contact with his killer like some kind of psycho stalker bullshit?’
‘We think the murderer may have made contact with Jamie and arranged to meet.’
‘There was nothing in his messages, and he never said he was going to meet anyone. He would have told me,’ River said, forcing back the tears.
‘And there’s nothing else you can remember him saying recently.’
River shook his head. ‘Nothing recent. Last one he told me about was some guy called Panther wanting to hook up, but that was a couple of weeks ago.’
And Jamie wasn’t known to rush these things, Kim thought.
‘You’re sure it’s Panther?’ she asked. ‘Not Jackal?’
He shrugged. ‘All the same, isn’t it? It could have been. I was glittering my eye shadow at the time.’
Kim looked to her colleague. His expression said he agreed that they were dealing with the same person. Right now, they were three for three. She had what she had come for.
‘Bryant, can you give us a minute?’ she asked, nodding towards the door that led back into the store.
‘Sure,’ he said, leaving them alone.
‘Is this where you strong-arm me for more information?’ River asked, looking around. ‘No witnesses.’
Kim laughed. ‘Too many cop shows. No, River, this is where I ask you what happened to the guy we met the other day?’
River shrugged and looked down at his feet. ‘It’s exhausting, being yourself when there’s so much hatred. Sometimes you just gotta toe the line. Don’t be yourself, don’t stand out. Do what you have to do but behind closed doors. Don’t speak of it. Don’t be proud of it.’
He lifted his head, tears streaming down his face as he continued. ‘What’s the point? Jamie’s dead and even in death you gotta deal with the haters. How is death not enough?’
‘Because some people have so much hate inside them it affects everything they do, everything they say,’ Kim answered. ‘It eats at them and makes them ugly. They feed off victory. Every little triumph gives them energy and power because then their hate has had effect. It’s had an impact. It has triumphed.’
River was listening intently.
‘How do others learn how to feel about themselves if they don’t have examples, good examples. Don’t you dare hide yourself under a bland hair colour and ordinary lashes. Don’t you dare show yourself as less than who you’ve worked hard to become. For what reason? To mollify bigoted idiots with half your IQ. You’ve already said that even death isn’t enough so why even try to please them?’