Page 6 of Nothing But the Night (Basic Instincts 2)

“Exactly. It sounds like an easy job.”

“Have you heard of Marc Glass?” Jason asked.

Ryman furrowed his brow. “Should I have?”

Jason pulled out his phone and tapped the screen. “I did a quick internet search on him too. It turns out he’skind of famous. You know the TV showThe Partnership? He was on that. It was a few years ago now, but he actually won it.”

The Partnershipwas a blatant rip-off ofThe Apprentice, a reality TV show in which fifteen hopefuls competed against each other in business-themed challenges. One contestant was eliminated after each episode with the ultimate winner taking home a £200,000 investment. Marc had used the prize money to set up a factory in Peterlee that produced farming machinery. In the few minutes Jason had spent snooping, the business seemed like a big deal, exporting products worldwide.

He brought up a photo of Marc from when he was on the show. He was a lot younger-looking. It was a good fifteen years since his win.

Ryman looked at the phone. “Oh, yeah. I do remember him. I never watched it, but it was everywhere at the time. He was in the local papers and news stations. They loved that Blyham-boy-made-good story. He’s done well for himself.”

“Another reason for Nadine Smythe to be interested in the story, don’t you think? An MP, a dead sex worker and the reality TV star brother.”

“It ticks a lot of boxes. And another reason to beat her to the punch, don’t you think?”

“Go on then, you’ve got me. I’ll take the case.”

“We can’t afford for you not to,” Ryman said.

“Things aren’t that bad.”

“There’re not that great, either. We need every decent job we can get. Besides, this one will be a walk in the park for you. I don’t know what you’re worried about.”

When Ryman left to collect his daughter, Jason considered staying for another drink, but theatmosphere in The New Inn was nonexistent. The weather was no better, and it was clear that most people had decided to stay home. He’d walked to work that morning and with no desire to get soaked again walking back, he arranged an Uber.

Home was a rented two-bedroom flat in a modern building overlooking the river Bly. The rent was extortionate, but he loved living in the heart of the city too much to find somewhere cheaper. The dash from the car to the foyer meant he was soaked all the way through again.

Jason poured a strong vodka and Coke and turned on the air-fryer before going to the bedroom. He stripped naked and took a quick shower to warm his cold skin. Freshly dried, he pulled on an old T-shirt and a pair of pyjama bottoms. He was thinking about Marc again when he put a chicken breast on to cook and mixed up some couscous with chopped peppers.

The one thing he hadn’t admitted to Ryman was just how attractive he found his new client. He’d have to be blind not to. Marc was hot.Incredibly. He was tall and athletically built with grey-blue eyes and a rugged, square jaw. His beard and short brown hair were streaked with grey, which only made him more attractive. He was quite serious-looking, and sexy rather than traditionally handsome. Some people might not find him attractive at all, but to Jason’s eyes he was a near ten out of ten.

Which was another thing that made him uncomfortable.

From a professional angle, it was much better not to fancy the client.

While Marc had talked him through the details of the case, Jason had had to force himself to focus. To stop wondering what he looked like naked, and how big hisdick was. While the investigation would involve him looking over the many hours of sex tape footage shot by his brother, all Jason wanted to do was look at naked photos of Marc. Or, even better, the real thing.

Get a grip. You work for the man now. You can’t think like this.

Jason plated up his dinner and ate it at the kitchen counter with a twenty-four-hour news channel playing on the TV in the background. He didn’t pay much attention to the headlines— his mind was already elsewhere, still thinking about Marc and the case. Once he’d finished and loaded the dishwasher, he poured another vodka and retired to the sofa with his laptop and notebook. He knew he should begin with a deep dive into Theo Glass, but when he opened a search tab, it was Marc’s name he entered.

The hits all related to his success onThe Partnership, accompanied with lots of photos of the fresh-faced winner. Marc had been twenty-nine at the time. He didn’t have a beard back then and his hair was all brown. He was square-jawed and good-looking, but lacked the characteristics of the man he had met today. Now in his mid-forties, Marc had certainly improved with age.

After a quick trawl of his Wikipedia bio, Jason discovered that Marc had been married, and his husband had died in 2021. Another rapid search revealed the reason for Marc’s distrust of Nadine Smythe.

The Partnership’s star’s husband dies of Covidread her headline. The accompanying article was full of hyperbole and inflammatory language, illustrated by photos of an exhausted-looking Marc wearing a face mask to visit the hospital. An even more intrusive shotfurther down showed Marc crying in his car, gripping the wheel, pain and grief carved across his face.

“You nasty bitch,” Jason muttered.No wonder he hates you.

There was another photograph of the couple in happier times. Jack Badiel and Marc Glass were a handsome pair. They were around the same age and build. Jack had warm brown eyes and an infectious smile. It was a surprise to see Marc, who had appeared so serious-looking, smiling so widely beside him. Their love for each other was clear in the image. They made a beautiful pair.

Jack’s funeral had taken place at the height of the Covid-19 restrictions, when such events had been limited to immediate family only. That hadn’t stopped theBlyham Chroniclephotographer from intruding on their grief. Long-lensed images had captured Marc’s anguish as he and four other mourners accompanied Jack’s coffin into the crematorium.

Jason found himself simmering in anger on their behalf. The man’s misery had already been exploited once for the sake of a splashy headline—now the same shitty journalist and paper wanted to do it all over again. Marc’s husband and his brother had died well before their time. What Nadine was doing was all wrong.

Marc had approached the agency seeking help.

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