‘Not quite the picture his mother painted, is it?’ Bryant asked, scrolling through the Facebook profile of Jamie Mills.
Once past the numerous condolence messages posted on his wall, it turned into a colourful display of someone who was gay and proud of it. Jamie had over five hundred friends and thousands of photos. He was pictured amongst large groups of friends, at parties, at clubs, at Gay Pride events around the country. And in particular a young man whose hair changed colour and style almost as often as his clothing popped up in a lot of the photos.
‘And there’s our guy now,’ Kim said as the familiar face appeared coming out of Tesco in Cradley Heath, already focussed on his phone.
His last Instagram post had been a selfie with a tray full of fresh fish stating how he couldn’t wait to finish his long night shift at 9a.m. He was easily recognisable by the shock of candy-pink hair they’d seen in a recent photo.
Kim and Bryant approached him as he reached a battered white Mini.
‘River Harris?’ she asked, showing her identification.
‘Depends who’s asking, darling,’ he said.
She pushed her ID closer.
He rolled his eyes dramatically. ‘Yeah, got three of those back home. You know, cos we all like a bit of role play.’ He took it from her. ‘Not as good as this though,’ he said, squinting. ‘That your real name?’
‘Is River yours?’ she asked, taking it back.
‘I am destined for greatness, Inspector, and it won’t find me with a name like John.’
She nodded her agreement.
‘I’m assuming someone finally read my tweets then,’ he said, folding his arms.
‘Tweets?’
‘Yeah, I know you say the account isn’t monitored and I should call blah, blah, blah number, but I’ve been tweeting you guys day and night to say that Jamie didn’t top himself. Never got a response or even a like, but obviously someone was listening.’
Did no one just come into the station any more? Was everything done on social media?
‘We kinda came to that conclusion based on the evidence, but why are you so sure it wasn’t suicide?’
‘Err…Look here,’ he said, moving his hands up and down his own body. ‘Who’d want to die with me in their life?’
Kim had to admire his confidence.
‘You two were good friends?’
‘Besties,’ he replied.
‘Anything more?’
He twirled one of the three hoop earrings in his right lobe. ‘Nah, tried it once. Couldn’t stop laughing. Decided we were best as mates. He’s proper gone, isn’t he?’
Kim nodded.
He breathed in, blinked back tears and sighed. ‘Well, you’d best find the bastard that did it.’
‘We intend to. Was Jamie in a relationship?’
River scrunched up his face. ‘Jamie didn’t really do relationships. I mean, in our community, two and a half dates and you’re booking the engagement party. Jamie always held himself back. He was the same when I first met him hanging around Spikeys.’
‘Spikeys?’
‘A club in Wolvo called the Green Nettle, stupid name. Went out for a smoke and saw him pacing around outside. I notice shit like that. You never know who’s hanging around for a gay-bashing session. Popped outside for another later and he was still there, walking to and fro, down to the corner and back again with his hands in his pockets.’
‘You approached him?’ Kim asked.