Page 24 of Now Comes the Dark

He raised his hands in submission. “I will. But you’re wrong about this man. I’ll be in no danger with him.”

As Roman walked away Ashley called after him, “I hope you’re fucking right, ’cause you might not wake up tomorrow otherwise.”

There was no point in arguing. They would keep him here all night if he allowed them to.

Mallon waited at the front door, smoking a cigarette. He turned his head slightly and gave an eyebrow twitch of acknowledgement. Roman shivered and fastened his coat, wrapping the scarf around his neck. The temperature had plummeted in the time he’d been inside.

“Shall we get an Uber?” Roman asked.

“We can walk to the taxi rank,” Mallon answered. “It’s not far, and it’s not late. You’ll be safe with me.”

Roman fell into step beside him, and they headed up Salvin Road. It didn’t escape his notice that he’d been walking this exact route, from Julie’s to the taxi rank, when they’d first encountered each other.

Two uniformed police officers passed by on the other side of the road. If they had bothered with more regular patrols last year, Roman and Mallon might never have met.

“A lot of cops about,” Mallon observed. “Did you report what happened to you last year?”

“I did.”

“Did they ever catch the men who attacked you?”

“No. I don’t think they ever looked.”

“Typical.” He paused to stub out his cigarette in a waste bin. He shoved his hands in his pockets and kept walking. “That’s the third group of cops I’ve seen all night. What’s the emergency?”

The cold bit into Roman’s ears, and he pulled his hat lower to cover the tips. “Don’t you know about the murders?”

Mallon turned to look at him. “I remember hearing something last time I was here. Haven’t they caught who was responsible for that, either?”

It seemed incredible that Mallon knew so little about what was going on when it was such a hot topic for everyone he knew. Then he remembered two major factors. Mallon didn’t live here. He was a visiting businessman. And even more relevant, the mainstream coverage of the killings had been minimal. A coupleof the national newspapers had run with the story after the two most recent murders, but they had revelled in the salacious details of the victim’s lifestyle, coming to blame them and their behaviour for their deaths. There had been nothing major since. He wondered if anyone outside of Blyham’s LGBTQ community were even aware of the troubles. From what Mallon had just said, it sounded unlikely.

Roman filled him in on the Blyham Strangler.

“Five men dead so far, and the police are no closer to catching the killer. Do you remember Cameron? The guy you were with in The Viaduct on the night you met me?”

“Not really.”

“Oh.”

“Should I?”

“I suppose not. Only he’s one of the victims.”

Mallon swore in French and shook his head. “Five deadqueermen is not the same, is it? If someone murdered five straight guys from a football team, or golf buddies, they would throw every resource into catching their killer. No?” There was a bitter tone to his voice.

“It feels that way.” Roman glanced over his shoulder. The two police officers were out of sight. It was hard not to feel anger towards them. How long would they continue to patrol the streets, anyway? If no one fell victim to the killer in the next few weeks, they would drift back to their important duties. If the Blyham Strangler wanted to remain at large, all they had to do was wait. The cops would disappear soon enough.

Roman was freezing by the time they reached they taxi rank. The cold had seeped through his boots and chilled him from the toes upwards. He was relieved to see three cars at the kerb and no one waiting for them. They jumped into the back and Mallon gave the driver an address. No discussion over where they were going, Roman’s place or his. Roman didn’t mind. It would makeeverything a lot simpler if Mallon didn’t have to face a pissy Ashley in the morning.

He slid close to Mallon on the back seat, pressing their legs together and shivering.

“Soon you’ll be warm,” Mallon assured him, sliding his gloved hand up Roman’s thigh, letting it rest against his crotch.

Despite the cold, Roman’s cock stiffened. This was not where he had expected his evening to end, but he was thrilled at the development.

The taxi drove along the waterfront, passing by The Vermont Hotel without stopping.

“We’re not getting out. Are you staying somewhere else now.”