Kim nodded. ‘Absolutely.’
Megan shook her head. ‘Shame. Anyway, he asked if we could chat now and again and he’d pay me what he could. I told him that on Tuesdays, I normally spent an hour or so tidying up before going home and if he wanted to drop by then, he was more than welcome.’
Kim couldn’t help but warm to the woman. The need to help the boy had far outweighed his ability to pay her. ‘And your conversations?’ she asked, readying herself with the threat of a court order.
‘He was conflicted. I feel there was a lot he didn’t want to tell me about the years since we’d last talked. He was all about moving forward. He wanted to explore his sexuality, but he couldn’t rid himself of the guilt and self-loathing.’
Kim thought of River and his total acceptance of himself compared to Jamie.
‘Unfortunately, Jamie’s parents did him a great deal of damage during his adolescence,’ Megan said, shuddering. ‘He wouldn’t speak about it, but God only knows what they put in his head during those years.’
‘Why do you think they did anything?’ Bryant asked.
‘They brought a confused, frightened twelve-year-old boy to me and asked if I could “un-gay” him. I told them it couldn’t be done. What makes you think they believed me?’
‘But what more could they do?’ Kim asked as the intercom sounded.
Megan regarded her for a second. ‘Are you seriously asking me that question?’
Kim wasn’t sure what she’d said wrong so nodded.
‘Inspector, you have a lot to learn, and I don’t have the time to teach you,’ she said as the buzzer sounded again.
‘What are you…?’
‘I’m sorry but I have to end this now,’ Megan said, standing.
‘But…’
‘Go start your education with Clifford – Cliff – over at The What Centre in Stourbridge,’ she said, walking them towards the stairs. ‘He’ll tell you exactly what they might have done next, but get ready, Inspector, because you’re not going to like what he has to say.’
TWENTY-FOUR
Stacey pushed her chair away from the desk and stretched her neck, feeling as though she’d had an education after trawling through a maze of dating websites.
She’d started off on Lex, which seemed to be a text-centred social app that modelled itself on old personal ads with a bit of erotica thrown in. At the other end of the spectrum, a site called Qutie seemed focussed on helping people, particularly LGBTQ people, build meaningful connections, including friendships as well as romantic relationships.
In between were apps like Thurst, HER, Feeld, Lesly, Open, Fem, OK Cupid. Stacey had been learning about them all. Not least that Sarah Sizzle was on every single one.
There were two things that struck her as odd. Sarah was on every site, indicating that she didn’t seem to know if she wanted a quick fling with just one or even multiple partners, or if she wanted a deep and meaningful relationship with just one person. The second thing that struck her was that every profile she’d found had been set up in the last six months. Why everything all at once? Conversely, she couldn’t find Jamie’s footprint on any of them, making a link to some homophobe trawling the sites for people to kill an unlikely theory.
Even when she’d been single, Stacey had never really frequented the dating sites. Working as a police officer and watching too many episodes ofCatfishhad left her suspicious and jaded when it came to dating. Given the fact she was bisexual, she’d had no idea what to go looking for. She’d met Devon the old-fashioned way. She’d been in a pub with a couple of friends, and Devon had been in there with a bunch of colleagues from immigration celebrating someone’s promotion. Yes, their eyes had met and Stacey had felt as though she’d been punched in the ribs. Breathing had ceased to be a natural bodily function that happened without her conscious instruction. Devon had found a way to be at the bar at the exact time Stacey had gone to buy a drink. Devon had apologised for bumping into her, and before she knew it, they were exchanging numbers. Numerous texts flowed between them where they discovered that their parents were both first-generation immigrants from Nigeria and their villages had been less than twenty miles apart.
Stacey had found the texting to be much easier than the meeting in person where she had found Devon to be as interesting and intelligent as she was beautiful. But Stacey had ended things after their first date, without explanation.
It had only been some months later when working on a slave-trafficking case that they’d met again, and a very wise man and a good friend had put her head on straight. Seeing the chemistry between them, Dawson had quickly identified her feelings of inadequacy and had told her she was a fool if she let Devon get away. She had followed his advice and the rest was history.
The memory was bittersweet as it combined her biggest gain in life with her worst loss. She glanced at the desk that had once been his and admitted that she still missed him.
‘Okay, missy, enough of that,’ she said to an empty room.
To distract her mind, she opened the bank statements for Gabriel Denton.
There were two accounts – one appeared to be a joint current account and the other a mortgage account. The mortgage account was straightforward. The money came in and the money went out. The couple had a standing order that was higher than their mortgage payment, which had been set when interest rates were higher. Because interest rates had fallen but the direct debit hadn’t been adjusted, a small nest egg was starting to build of a couple of thousand pounds.
Stacey transferred her attention to the current account.
There was the regular payment to the mortgage account with all other utilities that went out at the beginning of the month.