Crimes on Latimer: From the Early Cases of Marco Fontana by DeMarco Joseph R. G

Author:DeMarco, Joseph R. G.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: crime, mystery, gay, murder mystery, queer, police, philadelphia
Publisher: Lethe Press

It was a while before Marty got himself together enough to leave. I sat quietly with him until he did. By the time he walked out the door, I felt sorry for the poor bastard. He was a shit but he didn’t deserve to have to start from scratch and still have to look over his shoulder wondering if and when someone would find him.

After Martin left, I called Press. I knew it was Carl that was blackmailing Martin. I also figured it was Carl who’d bludgeoned Sammy. What I couldn’t accept was the idea that he did all that just to get even with them for dumping him, for making him feel small and cheap. Maybe it was one spasm of revenge that was intended to rid himself of all the feelings of worthlessness and humiliation heaped on him by all the other people in his life who’d wronged him. It made a perverted kind of sense but it was still insane. I thought Press might be able to give me another perspective or have a different insight into Carl’s actions.

Press didn’t answer his phone so I decided to stake out his place and pin him down once he arrived home. Home is so much more conducive to getting a person talking than cornering him in his office.

Press worked for the city so he had to live in the city but he made certain that his quarters were palatial. He was no stranger to creature comforts and he didn’t intend for that to change. The building he lived in, the Dorchester, was one of the better condo properties on Rittenhouse Square, which had nothing but better properties. I’d heard he’d purchased a four bedroom extravaganza and had it redone from top to bottom. One of the bathrooms alone cost him close to one hundred fifty big ones. So I’m told. He had plenty of room and plenty of money and could certainly fit both Bart and Carl under his roof, if he wanted to.

From my seat on a wooden bench dedicated to Millie Frome in Rittenhouse Square, I had a great view of the Dorchester’s front entrance. People came and went constantly. The rich and didn’t-want-to-be-famous of Philadelphia lived in that building and led busy, eventful lives. Sooner or later Press would be among those returning home.

As I watched, I saw Bart and Carl stroll in together through the automatic sliding doors as if they were landed gentry. I wanted to gag, but that would’ve blown my cover. It appeared that they’d moved in on Press and were taking him for a great ride. Not that I felt sorry for the guy. He deserved it in so many ways. I just wished he’d get the hell home, so I could get the information I needed and leave. Before I could deliver that wish to the air, Press hopped out of a cab and sprinted into the building. So much for me getting to him in the lobby and making quick work of it.

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