Pride and Perilous by Mark McNease

Author:Mark McNease
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: MadeMark Publishing
Published: 2013-06-10T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

The Katherine Pride Gallery

Corky Richards was alone at the gallery that afternoon. Kate Pride had been there throughout most of the morning, but had left for a late lunch with her husband, Stuart. It was a treat she allowed herself when she felt that everything was in order, as she did today. Kyle’s photos were ready for public viewing, the two rooms where they’d been hung blocked off with velvet rope until the Friday evening opening. That left only the parlor, as it was called, for the other work they were showcasing. It was a small room, although large enough for Corky to have imagined many times how it might look as a studio apartment. Anything much bigger than a shoebox would make a suitable apartment in Manhattan, something of which Corky was painfully aware. He was currently staying in a dump in Coney Island with his cousin Patrick, and the commute itself had him longing for the day when he could find some cozy eighth-floor walkup with a Murphy bed and a hot plate within walking distance of his job.

It was a job he’d only had for two months. Corky Richards was new to the city, having migrated from Las Vegas less than a year earlier. The son of a showgirl and one of her string of boyfriends—she never bothered finding out which one—Corky had hated the desert heat and the garish lights, the vice that permeated everything about Las Vegas. And while it was certainly gay friendly, it was no place for a man like Corky to find a suitable husband, whom he would skillfully balance with a career that headed only upward. Was working the front desk at the Katherine Pride Gallery that career? No, but it aimed him in the right direction and put him in frequent contact with people he could step gently on as he made his way to the top. Some of the men even enjoyed being footstools.

He looked up at the sound of the bell ringing. Kate had not installed a door buzzer, the kind you have to buzz while waiting for someone to unlock the door. She considered it cold, and although this was an art gallery, nothing here was of great value. That was the whole point of the Katherine Pride Gallery: to launch those she found promising into the art world, where the next gallery would sell their work for much more. She was a talent scout, really, and a gambler. It didn’t always pay off; some of the artists she had highlighted over the years had gone no further, while a few others had made good after their deaths from drug overdoses. And now Devin, of course, murdered. His works would immediately triple in value.

The man who entered the gallery did not at first look at Corky, but instead scanned the front room, the parlor, and the rope sectioning off the main gallery.

Corky, normally outgoing to a fault, chipper and always looking to network, remained unusually silent. Something about the man did not invite conversation.

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