Last Kiss

‘Nice friendly place you have here, Simon.’


‘We believe in being open-minded, Detective.’ He had a bulldog face, tight red hair, a thin moustache and shoulders twice the width of his waist. He spoke with a Scottish accent that came from somewhere deep in his chest. He was well dressed, in smart black jeans, a striped linen shirt, and shoes that screamed money. Lynch couldn’t be sure, but his accent wasn’t street – more than likely born with a silver spoon in his mouth. ‘We all have our fetishes, Detective. It’s only a question of working them out.’

‘A pint and another bottle of that non-alcoholic stuff.’ Lynch turned to wave at Walsh.

‘I’ll get one of the lads to bring the pint down to your friend.’

‘Decent of you, Simon. Thanks.’ He took in the crowd. They didn’t so much exhibit pack mentality but formed smaller groups, not only the trannies but others too, along with plenty of loners. ‘What’s the story with the non-participants?’

‘Many start out that way. People like to look before they take the plunge. Everyone is different.’

‘Claudia tells me Rick Shevlin was one of your onlookers.’

‘I believe he was.’

‘He never partook in the main show, then?’ Lynch took a swig from his bottle of beer.

‘It wouldn’t have taken him long. You learn to judge these things.’

‘And he brought a couple of the girls from Connections with him?’

‘I’ve no problem, as long as they pay and don’t cause trouble.’

‘Were there any other lady friends?’

‘There was one he was keen on. She didn’t join in either, but went the whole way with her appearance, dressing mainly in leather, the way Rick liked them.’

‘Was she an escort?’

‘Don’t think so. I heard they linked up through some dating agency.’

‘She came here a few times, then?’

‘That’s right, but I haven’t seen her for a while.’

‘Since Rick snuffed it?’

‘I couldn’t be sure, but maybe so.’

Lynch leaned in closer. ‘Did she have a name?’

‘Cassie. At least, that’s the name she gave.’

‘Cassie what?’

‘Cassie4Casanova.’ He smirked.

‘What?’

‘It’s her online tag name. You know, like the lover.’

‘I don’t suppose you have any pictures of her? You know, snaps on the mobile phone, that kind of thing?’ He was fishing, but it never did any harm to ask.

‘We don’t allow cameras on the premises.’ He pointed to the charter hanging over the bar, including rules of no ‘frontal nudity’, and safety being in the hands of ‘dungeon monitors’, experienced players whose decisions were final. ‘But I can give you a description, if you want.’

‘Let’s go one step further, Simon. How about I send down one of our artists to chat with you? Together you can draw a nice picture.’

‘No problem. Always willing to help the police.’

The longer he talked, the more convinced Lynch became that Simon Reynolds was from a very comfortable background – his accent sounded like money, well-educated too, a regular entrepreneur. The classy voice probably helped pull in the richer punters. Lynch decided to finish his beer with Walsh.

‘How did you get on with your man?’ Walsh downed the end of the second pint.

‘Not bad. We might have a good lead.’

‘Jaysus, that’s great. Thanks for the beers. I owe you.’

‘Don’t worry about it. Come on, let’s go.’

Before reaching the exit door, Walsh said, ‘Hold on, I need to take a leak.’

‘Be careful in there.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘There’s a reason this place is still legal. No sex visible on the premises, but behind closed doors and all that … I’d say there’s plenty of activity inside.’

Walsh gave him a look, a mix of caution and daring. ‘Do you want to take a leak too?’

Lynch had no intention of holding his colleague’s hand or anything else. ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ he said. ‘I’ll wait for you here. If you don’t come out in five minutes, I’m leaving without you.’





EL PICAFLOR RESTAURANT, 9 RUE LACéPèDE, PARIS


EL PICAFLOR RESTAURANT was on the same street as the H?tel Saint Christophe. From the outside, to Kate, it looked like a place you would walk straight past, and she wondered about the wisdom of leaving the choice of venue to Adam.

‘Less than twenty-five euros for a three-course meal with a drink on the house,’ he said. ‘You wouldn’t get that in Dublin.’ He looked pleased with himself.

‘I guess that depends on the place.’ She sounded as apprehensive as she felt.