Page 21 of Molly Boys

“I do, I’ve seen it.” Francis pursed his lips thoughtfully as he studied Dickie’s face. “If I recall correctly, Charlie liked it that way.”

“He did. They were a good match that way, but… uh…”

“Go ahead, spit it out, Dickie,” Everett encouraged him. “I don’t think, given the situation, you should withhold any pertinent information for fear of embarrassment. We need to make sure the house and the others are protected. If there’s anything that could lead the police back here, we need to know.”

Dickie nodded slowly. “The night Charlie went missing, he was with the colonel, and he’d used Charlie hard, which means there were still… signs left on his body that were noted during the autopsy.”

“Signs?” Everett repeated.

“Bites and bruising to his inner thighs mostly, some marks to his nipples and um… obviously, an intimate examination revealed that he’d had quite vigorous penetrative sexual conduct.”

“Very delicately put,” Francis sighed. “This went into the official autopsy report?”

“Yes,” Dickie replied.

“And you can’t get to the report to change it at all?” Everett mused.

“No.” Dickie shook his head. “It’s already been signed off by Dr Shaw. I have no access to it and even if I did, I couldn’t do that to him, it would put his career in question. I owe him. He took me in when my parents set out for India and is mentoring me through my medical training. He’s been good to me, taking me under his protection.”

“You’re under our protection too, Darling Dickie.” Francis reached out and stroked his hair. “Don’t doubt that.”

“Thank you,” Dickie breathed with gratitude. “Only now I don’t know what to do. The report will be in Inspector Franklin’s hands by morning and with what’s in that report, they’re either going to assume that Charlie was a molly or…” he broke off and shook his head, exhaling shakily. “You know how they feel about our kind. If there’s even a whiff of homosexuality involved, this could turn into a witch hunt rather than a murder investigation. ”

“Damn it,” Everett cursed under his breath. The boy was right, they were going to have to be even more careful now. It was already hard enough not drawing the attention of the law. Perhaps it would be better to convince Francis to close the house, work on discovering what had happened to poor Charlie before the trail led back to them all.

“Inspector Franklin seems to have reason to suspect Charlie wasn’t the first,” Dickie frowned.

“The first murder?”

Dickie nodded.

Francis once again rose from his seat and paced the kitchen, deep in thought.

Ev caught Francis’ eye on his second turn. “Dickie’s right. Once they start following the breadcrumbs, they’re going to be hunting homosexuals, especially if it turns out that Charlie wasn’t the first, which means we’re not the only ones at risk.”

Francis stopped abruptly and reached for the bell. Within moments Haywood appeared at the doorway, as calm as ever.

“My lord?”

“Have the cab brought around, Haywood, and as our guests begin to depart, please inform them the house will be closed for the next few days,” Francis said soberly, his words mirroring Ev’s earlier thoughts.

Something in Ev’s belly settled. There was no doubt Francis was making the right choice; it was, after all, what he would have done. Keeping the house open while things were so unsettled risked exposure for them all, especially Francis whose name appeared on the deeds. He did worry about Francis though, without his beloved house open.

If Haywood was surprised at the sudden impending closure of Islington house, something which had never occurred before, he didn’t show it.

“Very good, my lord.” He inclined his head and disappeared back through the doorway.

“Are we going somewhere?” Everett asked.

“If there’s even a sniff of gossip about young men going missing, there’s one person who’d know about it,” Francis replied.

Everett’s eyes widened in understanding. “Louie.”

“Louie,” Francis agreed. “I suggest you gather your coats, my darlings. It’s cold out and we’re off to Mother Clap’s.”

* * *

The streets were fairly quiet as Dickie, Everett, and Francis stepped down from the hackney cab. The snow had lightened up to a light brush of tiny flakes which danced upon the icy night air, circling in the dim lamplight. The blanket of snow cocooned them in a hushed silence as they made their way along the darkened street.