At nine the next morning Mac was knocking on Sam Sedwick's door.
Mac had spent the night at Loren Blunt's place going through his writing desk reading the hundreds of love letters between him and Shelby and other men that had also fallen hopelessly in love with him. When he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer he grabbed a few hours sleep on the sofa in the living room. He dreamed of Loren Blunt, those beautiful eyes staring into his and his mouth close to his whispering words he couldn't hear.
When he woke at six thirty the next morning he took the liberty of taking a luxurious shower and shave in Loren's richly appointed bathroom, which revitalized him to face another day. After so many years of being a police detective Mac had learned that the beginning stages of a murder investigation -- especially one as gruesome as this one -- were the most important and therefore always kept a few change of clothes in his car in anticipation that he might not be able to get back to his place for a few days.
*
A British butler in a full tuxedo answered the door to Mr. Sedwick's upper Manhattan mansion and ushered Mac into the sunny breakfast parlor where Sam Sedwick and Shelby Cantrell were having their coffee. Both men, dressed formally in mourning suits and ties, stood when Mac entered the room. Sam Sedwick took the lead and made the introductions. Shelby Cantrell took Mac's hand and shook it firmly then held it for just that little extra second that made Mac uncomfortable enough to pull his hand away. A hint of familiarity crossed through Mac's brain and he knew that at some point they had most likely crossed paths at Spenc's club in New Orleans.
"Coffee Detective McParson?" Sam asked.
"Thank you." he replied and took a seat at the table they had been seated at when he arrived. Sam nodded to the butler who walked to the sideboard where a sterling silver coffee service sat. He lifted a bone china cup and saucer and carefully poured the coffee.
"Have you made any progress on the case Detective?" Shelby asked in that slow sugary-sweet southern drawl Mac had come to loath after living in the south for so many years.
"In cases like this the process can be long and tedious. I'm afraid at this point everyone is still a suspect and yet no one is an exact person of interest." It was Mac's fancy way of saying 'no' "I understand from my partner that you saw Mr. Blunt yesterday afternoon before he was scheduled to leave for the country. Do you have any idea why he might have changed his mind?"
"None at all Detective. We said good-bye at the office. I had a late meeting with Mr. Wallace I needed to attend. Loren was going to go home and pack an overnight bag and leave directly to the house in Connecticut."
Mac turned to Sam, who still appeared to be in shock over Loren's untimely death. "Mr. Sedwick, when was the last time you spoke with Mr. Blunt?"
"He called me on Thursday to ask if he could use the Connecticut house for the weekend. Said he needed to get away for few days. He stopped by that evening for a drink and to pick up the keys. I'm sure your investigation has already revealed that my nephew was having relationship problems and needed to get away to think."
"Yes sir it has." Mac turned back to Shelby and looked at him but before he could ask another question the butler stepped into the room and announced that Mr. Liebacker was here.
Waldo Liebacker always made an entrance when he entered a room. Maybe it was his striking appearance or his dominant personality but he made sure that everyone around him knew that Waldo Liebacker had arrived. Mac stood and shook Liebacker's hand making a mental note that neither Sam nor Shelby did.
"Well Detective, are you here to arrest Shelby for murdering his lover?" Liebacker asked in his Waldo Liebacker I'm-better-than-everyone-else manner. The butler didn't bother to ask if Waldo wanted coffee, he just poured him a cup and placed it in front of him.
"This is my home and you will not say such nasty lies about me." Shelby drawled to Waldo, who in turn just waived his hand like he was swatting a bug away. There was no love between the two men.
"Shelby I hate to be the bearer of bad news but you are a merely a squatter here and one day Sam is going to grow tired of your mooching and throw your ass out on the street where it belongs."
Waldo proclaimed turning his body away from Shelby and more towards Sam and Mac.
"Gentlemen please," Sam interjected, "I'm sorry Detective, it's always complicated when Shelby and Waldo are in the same room."
Over the next hour Mac questioned Sam and Shelby separately and finally together. Sam was at a gala event for a new artist that he was supporting -- an exquisite looking Asian man that spoke very little English but that Sam was successfully lusting after. Once again Mac was taken back that these men lived their life so openly in a time where the moral majority frowned upon any type of relationships outside of heterosexual ones.
Shelby on the other hand had a flimsy alibi. He claimed to have been at the office until seven or eight most of which was alone. From the office he went to a bar where he didn't run into anyone he knew had some drinks and returned home sometime after the police had come and gone. He admitted he was quite drunk and didn't remember too much of his evening.
In Mac's mind there was absolutely no truth whatsoever to Shelby's story. Men like Shelby Cantrell didn't get drunk and most definitely didn't spend evenings alone. Shelby was at a crossroads. There were issues within his relationship with Loren and he needed to either insure those problems were solved or he needed to find another sugar-daddy to care for him.
On the surface it appeared there was a very silent understanding between Shelby and Sam but that it was wearing thin. Sam was gracious enough to provide a residence for Shelby while he dated his nephew but with Loren out of the picture he didn't have to be the ever obliging host any longer.
With the initial interview over Mac said his goodbyes and stood to leave. Liebacker joined him in the hallway and asked if he could accompany him on his next stop.
"I was planning on returning to Mr. Blunt's apartment which is still under police jurisdiction." Mac replied.
"Then let me ride with you, I can walk back to my place from there. I'll just let my driver go."
Alone in the car Mac asked the question he had wanted to ask earlier. "Did you believe Mr. Cantrell's story about his whereabouts last evening?"
"Not one bit. Shelby is a whore and if he's not getting fucked he isn't happy. He most likely took advantage of Loren's absence and was in someone else's bed."
"Any ideas whom that might have been?"
"Well with Shelby most likely burning his bridge with Loren he's got to be on the prowl for another lover that will keep him. In our circle of friends there are several wealthy gentlemen but only one that is between lovers...and that is Standish Abbott."
Once again Liebacker left Mac speechless. Standish Abbott was a pinnacle of New York society. He was first generation American that rose for the streets. He put himself through law school and then become one of New York's most respected judges. At one time he was even considered for a Supreme Court appointment but opted to pull his name from the running because he didn't want to leave his beloved New York City. Now Mac wondered if it was for another reason? Over the years he made a name for himself as being a tough conservative judge. He married a woman of wealth and fathered half a dozen children. At sixty years old he was retired but kept himself available for consulting.
"I've shocked you again Detective? I think you'd be surprised at the number of men that enjoy men's company. We are an elite group."
"I am beginning to see that. Does Mr. Abbott keep a place here in the city?" Mac knew from the press that Standish Abbott owned a palatial spread outside the city that hosted several charitable functions a year.
"As a matter of fact he has two places. There's the family penthouse in the building next to mine and then he's got a 'hideaway' place in a brownstone off Madison. That's where he does his private entertaining. He stays in the city most of the time. The children are grown and married and his wife prefers the home outside of the city. If she wants to see him she will come to the city. It's all very civilized. They've been married long enough to respect each others privacy."
Mac simply shook his head. The rich and the life they lead.
"I would be more than happy to set up a meeting for you." Liebacker said making Mac wonder why he was being so accommodating. "I want to see you arrest Shelby Cantrell for killing my Loren Detective." He said a moment later like he had read his mind.
"And what if he didn't kill him?"
"One way or another he is guilty, whether he pulled the trigger or not." Liebacker said morosely. "I'll ring Standish up as soon as you drop me off. You'll be at Loren's?"
Mac nodded that he would.
*
Mac had come to appreciate the solitude that Loren's apartment was affording him. Reluctantly he lifted the phone from the cradle and called the station to get updates from Simpson.
"The autopsy is complete." Simpson said in a non-characteristic sour sounding tone. "No surprise that the victim died from the gunshot to the face and the eventual loss of blood and brain matter." He paused a moment before reading the next line of the report. "It also showed that prior to death the victim had engaged in anal sex and had a large quantity of fresh sperm in his rectum. There were also signs that he had engaged in oral sex as well. The coroner believes that whoever he was with was quite prolific." He let out a guttural 'Ugh' before going on. "There was bruising on his buttocks, nipples and around his lips, but the coroner said it didn't appear that he was in a fight...more along the lines of some type of sexual deviation he might have taken part in. What kind of sicko was this guy?" Mac didn't make any comments but after the things he was learning about Loren he wasn't surprised by the coroners findings.
"Unless this pertains to why he was killed, which I seriously doubt then it is none of our business. Right now I want you to put a lid on all of this. Tell the corner to stifle the report also. You are not to talk to anyone about any of this."
"Mac?" Simpson had never heard Mac take such a stand before.
"We are dealing with people that are the pinnacle of New York society. We have to move very slowly and carefully. Our jobs and reputations are at stake on this case." He paused a moment before adding. "Do I make myself clear?" to let Simpson know he was being deadly serious.
