Gordean smiled and held the envelope down at his side. “Then let me initiate you regarding my relationship with your Department, Mr.–”
“It’s Deputy Upshaw.”
“Mr. Upshaw, I cooperate fully with the Sheriff’s Department, in exchange for certain courtesies, chief among them your contacting me by telephone when you require information. Do you understand?”
Danny got a strange sensation: Gordean’s frost was making him frosty. “Yes, but as long as I’m here…”
“As long as you’re here, tell me how I can assist you. I’ve never been questioned on a triple homicide before, and frankly I’m curious.”
Danny speedballed his three victims’ names. “Martin Goines, George Wiltsie and Duane Lindenaur. Dead. Raped and hacked to death.”
Gordean’s reaction was more frost. “I’ve never heard of a Martin Goines. I brokered introductions for George Wiltsie throughout the years, and I think George mentioned Duane Lindenaur to me.”
Danny felt like he was treading on an iceberg; he knew going in for shock value wouldn’t play. “Duane Lindenaur was an extortionist, Mr. Gordean. He met and attempted to extort money from a man named Charles Hartshorn–who he allegedly met at a party you threw.”
Gordean smoothed his tuxedo lapels. “I know Hartshorn, but I don’t recall actually meeting Lindenaur. And I throw a lot of parties. When was this alleged one?”
“In ‘40 or ‘41.”
“That’s a long time ago. You’re staring at me very acutely, Mr. Upshaw. Is there a reason for that?”
Danny touched his own lapels, caught what he was doing and stopped. “I usually get at least a ‘my God’ or a twitch when I tell someone that an acquaintance of theirs has been murdered. You didn’t bat an eye.”
“And you find that dismaying?”
“No.”
“Curious?”
“Yes.”
“Am I an actual suspect in these killings?”
“No, you don’t fit my description of the killer.”
“Do you require alibis for me to further assert my innocence?”
Danny snapped that he was being sized up by an expert. “All right. New Year’s Eve and the night of January fourth. Where were you?”
Not a second’s hesitation. “I was here, hosting well-attended parties. If you require verification, please have Lieutenant Matthews do it for you–we’re old friends.”
Danny saw flashes of his party: black-on-black tangos framed in velvet. He flinched and stuffed his hands in his pockets; Gordean’s eyes flicked at the show of nerves. Danny said, “Tell me about George Wiltsie.”
Gordean walked to a liquor cabinet, filled two glasses and returned with them. Danny smelled the good stuff and jammed his hands down deeper so he wouldn’t grab. “Tell me about George Wilt–”
“George Wiltsie was a masculine image that a number of men found enticing. I paid him to attend my parties, dress well and act civilized. He made liaisons here, and I received fees from those men. I imagine that Duane Lindenaur was his lover. That’s all I know about George Wiltsie.”
Danny took the glass Gordean was offering–something to do with his hands. “Who did you fix Wiltsie up with?”
“I don’t recall.”
“You what?”
“I host parties, guests come and meet the young men I provide, money is discreetly sent to me. Many of my clients are married men with families, and keeping a blank memory is an extra service I provide them.”
The glass was shaking in Danny’s hand. “Do you expect me to believe that?”
Gordean sipped brandy. “No, but I expect you to accept that answer as all you are going to get.”
“I want to see the books for your service, and I want to see a client list.”
“No. I write nothing down. It might be considered pandering, you see.”
“Then name names.”
“No, and don’t ask again.”
Danny forced himself to barely touch his lips to the glass; barely taste the brandy. He swirled the liquid and sniffed it, two fingers circling the stem–and stopped when he saw he was imitating Gordean. “Mr. Gor–”
“Mr. Upshaw, we’ve reached an impasse. So let me suggest a compromise. You said that I don’t fit your killer’s description. Very well, describe your killer to me, and I will try to recall if George Wiltsie went with a man like that. If he did, I will forward the information to Lieutenant Matthews, and he can do with it what he likes. Will that satisfy you?”