Page 11 of Across Space and Time

“Do all of your boys have female names?” Hugh asked, trying to play it off as curiosity. He had no idea what Anthony’s name might otherwise be.

Mr. Galloway chuckled that dark sound again. “Yes. Helps build the fantasy for some men. Of course, if you prefer something more masculine, we can accommodate that as well.”

Hugh had a vague wonder of what his name would be if he were to take Mr. Galloway up on his offer. Not that he would, of course. Just being near the man was making his skin crawl.

Rose came back through the crowd, and behind him was Anthony. The young man was dressed in a velvet dress with black ruffles that looked like they were in need of a good wash, and it took Hugh a moment to recognize him through the freshly-applied kohl that lined his eyes, accentuating his pale irises and long, dark lashes.

Mr. Galloway turned to Hugh with a cheery grin. “What do you think?”

Anthony gazed back at Hugh, his expression unchanging from the slightly sultry pout he had. If he recognized Hugh, he was doing a good job at hiding it.

“He’s perfect,” Hugh said, giving the man a smile. “I… I’m afraid I’ve never been to a place like this before, sir. What do I do?”

“You can just give the money to me, and then you have him for an hour. You can purchase more time for a bit of a discount if you’d like too.”

“I think an hour should be sufficient,” Hugh said, pulling out several coins from his pocket. Oh, wouldn’t the police department love to find out what he was spending this petty cash on.

Mr. Galloway took the coins and pocketed them. “Take the gentleman upstairs, Rachel.”

“Yes, sir,” Anthony said, giving the large man a nod before turning to Hugh with a polite smile. “Right this way.” He offered Hugh his elbow. Hugh didn’t want to make Anthony uncomfortable, or himself either, but with multiple pairs of eyes watching him, he felt like he didn’t have much choice. So, he took the arm and allowed Anthony to lead him through the crowd and up a set of creaky, wooden stairs.

Anthony led him down a hallway to a room. He pushed open the door to reveal a sparsely furnished room that had not much more to it than a bed, a vanity, and a wardrobe. A few watercolor painting postcards of flowers hung on the wall, the only real sign that anyone had tried to make it their own. Hugh stepped inside as Anthony closed the door. Once it was shut, Anthony let out a breath. “Hello again.”

Hugh gave him a weak smile. “I hope that I haven’t potentially gotten you in trouble.”

Anthony frowned. “Does anyone know you’re police?”

“I don’t think so,” Hugh said. “I’m here undercover.”

Anthony glanced over him. “Yeah, you look ordinary enough without that copper getup.”

“Thank you,” Hugh replied, glancing around the room. “Is this yours?”

Anthony nodded. “Yes, sir.”

There was almost nothing here. How could Anthony live like this? “Well, I’m afraid it may not be much of a respite, but I have bought your time for an hour, so please… Make yourself comfortable, I suppose?”

Anthony sat down on the bed, undoing the laces of the corset of his dress before bending down to undo the little black boots he wore as well. There was one chair at the vanity, with a dressing gown draped over it. Hugh held out the dressing gown to Anthony before he perched awkwardly on the edge of the chair, averting his eyes as the boy slid it on to cover his mostly-bare frame. “I did have some more questions that perhaps you could answer now that we’re not in as public of a place.”

Anthony nodded, sitting down cross-legged on the bed. “All right.”

“Is there a particular customer that you think might have wanted to hurt Christopher?"

Anthony hummed thoughtfully. “Not that I can think of. Some fellas think they’s tough, but they have to pay extra, and not all of the boys are willing to service them.”

“Do you think that Christopher could have met one of these tough customers the night he died?”

Anthony shook his head. “I mean, I suppose it’s possible, but most guys that like to get rough aren’t as violent as all that. They might like to choke you or use a riding crop on you. They get off on hurting others. But hurtin’, not killin’.”

“Mr. Galloway mentioned ‘special events’ that he sometimes brings in extra lads for?”

“Oh, yes,” Anthony said with a slight frown. “I went to the last one.”

“What sort of event was it?”

“I couldn’t say for sure, sir. We actually were blindfolded in the wagon that brought us there.”

Hugh imagined that would be terrifying. “What happened then?”

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