Page 68 of Nothing But the Night (Basic Instincts 2)

“No, neither do I.” Marc’s sense of unease reached the same level as it had when he’d found Tyrone by the river. Something was off. “Let’s go back to the car. I’ll call him from there.”

A door to their right opened. For a few seconds, a figure was backlit in the frame before they reached out and flicked on a switch. The office blinked into light.

“Sorry, we didn’t hear you arrive. You’re a little early.”

It was Soloman’s PA, Chantelle. Her mood was so much warmer than the last time Marc had seen her. Typical. He’d met her type many times before in his own business. The kind who treated everyone with contempt until the boss was around when suddenly she was overflowing with charm. She wore a tailored black trouser suit with a silk blouse. Her hair was fixed in a smart upwards style.

“It’s lovely to see you again.” Her voice was full of charm, but her eyes were bereft as she shifted her focus from Marc to Ryman. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Mr Archer isn’t expecting a second guest.”

“Ryman Blair.”

Marc raised his broken arm. “Ryman is helping me to get around. And he knows all there is to know about our case. I’m sure it won’t be an issue.”

She was fighting the urge to come back with a rejection. Her smile stayed fixed and unmoving forwhat seemed like an age, then she said. “No issue at all. Trish has already left for the day. If you’d like to go through, Mr Archer is in his office. I’ll bring some refreshments. Tea? Coffee? Something more grown up?”

“We’re fine,” Ryman said. His voice was curt, cutting through Chantelle’s phony PR charm. “We appreciate how precious Mr Archer’s time is. Can we get to it?”

She gave a closed-mouth smile. Marc could almost hear her silently counting to ten to retain her temper. “Go right on in. Mr Archer has been dying to meet you.”

* * * *

Blake picked up an iPad. His fingers swiped and tapped at the screen. Jason and Nadine moved close enough to look over his shoulder. He pulled up a picture of a man in his early twenties. He had the same kind of fresh-faced, handsome features as Theo had had.

“His name was Stefan,” Blake said. “I first met him on a legitimate modelling job, before he got into any of the sex stuff. He wanted me to take pictures for his portfolio.”

Jason recognised the background in the next photo. It was taken from the river with Blyham Castle in the background. Stefan had his shirt open, revealing a toned and tattooed torso.

“But he didn’t really have what it takes,” Blake said.

“He’s a nice-looking lad,” Nadine commented.

“Nice looks aren’t enough for a successful modelling career. He didn’t have the star quality that agents and bookers look for. He was about twenty here. I spent anafternoon with him, shooting all kinds of images, and that was about it, until I met him again a couple of years after when he was doing the Hot-4-Fans thing.”

The hairs on Jason’s neck prickled. “Did he work with Theo or any of the other guys?”

“Theo? Definitely,” Blake said, “I filmed one of their sessions. I don’t know about Dan and Tyrone. Theo was the one who brought him in to see me. He was using a different name them, but I knew who he was straight away.” He flicked to another image. “Stefan acted like we’d never met before, so I didn’t make an issue of it. I figured he was embarrassed enough, and I didn’t want to make things any worse.”

“When did he die?” Nadine asked, impatiently.

“Last year sometime. Early, I would say. Like, spring. Maybe around Easter.”

“And how did he die? Was it suspicious?”

Blake tapped the screen and pulled up Facebook. After a few more clicks he found Stefan’s profile. “There you go,” he said, showing them the tribute posts. “It was April. Suspicious, no. Stefan had major problems with substance abuse. When he came to see me with Theo he was a shadow of what he used to be. He died of an overdose. Deliberate, by all accounts.”

Blake handed them the iPad so they could scroll through his account themselves. Jason clicked straight to the photo gallery.

“Was there a chance the overdose could have been murder and made to look that way?” Nadine asked.

“I’m not a detective. That’s for you to find out,” Blake said. “But I doubt it. The kid was in a dark place towards the end.”

In most of the pictures, Stefan was a happy, good-looking boy. It was the usual assortment of social media images. Holiday snaps, birthdays, special occasions.No different from anyone else his age. The most recent photo taken prior to his death showed a big family dinner. Jason guessed it was an Easter get-together. He was about to scroll to the next, when he halted. There was something about this group shot.

He clicked and enlarged the image, zooming in on the family members around Stefan.

“Shit!”

Right beside Stefan in that last photograph, smiling and raising a glass of wine, was a face he recognised.

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