Chapter Twenty-Three -- Boiling Frog
The screen burned his eyes. Hudson passed one hand over them and stifled a yawn. Sleep could wait; when there were such bad people at work, he couldn't succumb to the temptation of lying down on his cramped sofa for a nap. The chances were he wouldn't wake up until morning, and he hoped to get at least some information on what cave Gideon Keres had crawled out of.
As expected, searching for the name only led to very few results, and the people who happened to share the man's name -- if that was his real name -- had nothing in common with him, at least at first glance. Hudson's belief was that everyone had to come from somewhere, and sure as hell, the evil mind behind the murders that had tortured his sleep lately couldn't have materialized out of thin air.
He gave up on his searches related only to the name in favor of poring over a long list of horrible crimes from decades ago. Good thing that he could access the police database like this. Back in the day, other detectives didn't enjoy the same luxuries offered by technology as he had access to now. At first, he searched through crimes that had happened in the area that could have led to Keres's horrible disfigurement, but he realized that he needed to expand it beyond the local list of terrible events.
At one point, he believed he had found a thread. The presentation of the facts was as chilling as heart wrenching. A boy of twelve had been extracted from the ruins of an old building, and the doctors had thought he wouldn't survive. Miraculously, he had come back to life, and the police had noted that some of his extensive injuries couldn't have come from the building collapsing on top of him. There were suspicions of foul play, but the investigation that followed led to nothing conclusive. Hudson leafed through all the information available, but there was no mention of the victim having been interviewed in regard to his accident. No mentions of legal guardians being interviewed were there, either. The logical conclusion was that the victim was in no condition to be questioned, and no parents or other adults responsible for the boy's care had come out of the woodwork. The victim remained nameless and was integrated into the system, given a name eventually. Hudson needed to find out more, although there was one element that didn't fit and discouraged him in pursuing this line of investigation. The horrible accident had taken place only ten years prior, and Gideon Keres was definitely older than twenty-two.
That concluded his first foray into the search on the man controlling Twinlight and Till The Sweet End. He hadn't expected to have any conclusive results from the start, but the taste of disappointment was still bitter. Of course, a man like Gideon Keres wouldn't have an Instagram or a Facebook account, but no mention of such an affluent investor in the local press was a bad sign.
Keres knew how to conceal himself, in plain sight even. Hudson suspected that the man's operations -- financial and otherwise -- were carefully covered so that no suspicions would arise. However, contacting Gavin and having the guy use his contacts to discover if some unusual investors had appeared lately on the government's radar was on his to do list. It was a long shot since financing a club most probably didn't count as that important a sum of cash to draw the attention of the highest powers investigating fraud and whatnot. Still, the money had to come from somewhere, and Hudson was very much interested in its provenance.
Bone-tired and disheartened by his lack of results, he collapsed on the sofa. Otis had truly noticed all the problems with it; it wasn't long enough so Hudson's legs went over and there was no healthy way for him to hold his head while sleeping. Probably, in the beginning, he had thought of bringing over a proper bed, but those thoughts had gone out the window the moment he had started working on the case. Once he got into that state, it was difficult for him to get back to what people considered normal, a normal that included things like the importance of getting proper sleep.
He checked the watch on his phone. Too bad he couldn't go knocking on Otis's door and slip into bed with him. That would have made everything better, Hudson thought, as exhaustion overtook him and he fell into a deep slumber.
When he woke in the morning, his head was pounding and it took him a good minute to realize that someone was knocking on the door. He groaned and managed to get to two feet and walk over. Halfway, he shifted to moving stealthily, as he always needed to check who was on the other side before answering.
He let out a breath of relief when he saw Otis waiting patiently in front of the door, unlike other times when he'd been quick to rush back to his apartment, afraid of disturbing his neighbor. Part of Hudson's tiredness, still not mended by his fitful sleep from the night before, disappeared at the sight of that pretty face. He quickly opened the door, anxious to see his boyfriend and forget, for a moment, about the actual reason he was there, forced to sleep badly and dream of putting bad guys away.
"Hi Otis," he said with a smile. "What's that?"
Otis lifted the casserole he was holding. "I made you some breakfast. Mini sandwiches. I thought you might want some."
"Definitely. Come on in. Do you have some time, or do you need to run to work?"
"No, not for some time. Are you sure I am not imposing?"
Hudson laughed and shook his head. "No. You are so polite. I'll leave you alone for a few minutes while I take a shower. You're not going to get bored, right?"
"I can examine those things on the wall some more."
"That works for me." Hudson took Otis's elbow gently and pulled him inside. "You're a godsend, you know? I'm so hungry I could eat a horse."
"That is a strange expression," Otis said. "I don't think horse meat could be very good, but I've never had any, so maybe I'm wrong. Also, I would feel badly about eating a horse."
"I suppose other people might not feel that bad, hence the saying. Don't worry. I will always eat what you make, and I know that there won't ever be horse on the menu."
***
Otis watched Hudson disappear into the bathroom and began looking around. While his neighbor and boyfriend wasn't particularly messy, the way the room looked suggested that Hudson had had a bad night. So, instead of examining the objects hanging on the wall, since he knew them all by now, he proceeded to open the window and tidy up the room. There were very few objects lying around, and Otis liked to believe that he had identified their correct places.
He stopped when he noticed the laptop. That had to be part of Hudson's equipment for work. Otis had heard about photo processing and he believed now that people in magazines were never as good looking as they appeared to be since there were so many tools professionals could use to make them look like they didn't have dark circles under their eyes, too much girth around the waist, or many other imperfections. Too bad there weren't tools for erasing such things in real life with the same ease.
Although, lately, and only because of Hudson, he hadn't worried as much about his scar. He touched it slowly, somewhat surprised to find it there still. With his boyfriend's admiration, Otis would have expected it to have magically disappeared, but things never worked that way. Was his scar as bad as before now that he didn't care about it the same?
That was a good question. Otis wondered if he could use Hudson's laptop to learn new words from the Internet, but then he recalled his grandma always telling him about respecting other people's property. That had been another thing he hadn't had one idea about, although he wasn't the kind to steal. He just liked beautiful things and wanted to touch them. The other kids in school, when he started going, looked so frightened when he attempted to do that.
Hudson's laptop remained untouched. Otis sat on the sofa to wait for his boyfriend to finish his shower. He did so just in time, as the bathroom door opened.
"Did I leave the room like this?"
Otis straightened up. Maybe that was overstepping, too. "I know all the things on your wall now. I thought I would tidy up since you are so busy with your work. But I can put them all back the way they were."
"No," Hudson said. "Thank you for doing that for me. And it's true. I had a long night, and I'm not the kind to bother that much with housekeeping. Can I have some of your delicious mini sandwiches?"
"Of course." Otis removed the lid and handed Hudson a napkin. "They are all yours."
"Damn, you should think about taking some courses to become a cook," Hudson suggested as he sank his teeth into the second sandwich. "I'm sure you would do well in that line of business. Maybe even at the restaurant where you're waiting tables at the moment. I bet they don't know the potential you have."
"You believe so? You do not just say these things because I'm your boyfriend and you must compliment me?"
"Cross my heart," Hudson promised. "Although I must compliment you all of the time, too. You deserve it."
