The Rainbow Conspiracy Page 8

  The meal started off with some delicious, comforting homemade vegetable soup and Clive told Steve that he’d been hearing all about the Men’s Center. He had really taken a shine to Steve and his intuition had persuaded him that he was an honest fellow who could be trusted. The fact that Michael had found him such a dependable influence also informed that Spoke judgement, and Clive encouraged Steve to tell him more about Columbus Cares and what went on there.

  ‘I love my job, but I wish I could be totally myself in the workplace and accepted as an openly gay man. I hear from Michael that you are in show business, and I guess you probably don’t have the same problem.’

  ‘You’re mostly right. As a theatrical agent, being gay is not really a handicap. In actual fact, you might argue it’s a positive advantage; although, as in all walks of life, you do encounter homophobic behaviour from time to time. But living in a capital city, there’s always a degree of anonymity, which I find makes life easier.’

  ‘I’m sure you’re right there,’ agreed Steve. ‘I remember being out in New York, and there was definitely a lot more freedom there than here in Columbus.’

  ‘That doesn’t surprise me in the least. Only just today I was telling my PA about an awful time I had with some paramedics when I first visited this town. Michael, you remember that African violet episode?’

  ‘Clive, I sure do.’

  ‘Yes, here in the Midwest,’ Steve added, ‘it’s not been so easy, and I’ve always had to lead a double existence at work and frankly that never used to bother me. But now, with this AIDS crisis, I’m finding bigotry is on the increase in Columbus, and it’s becoming much more difficult to lead the kind of lifestyle that brought me out in the first place.’

  Over the Chicken Maryland, which formed the next course, he elaborated further. He described how for the last twenty years, he felt that, along with other gay males in the state of Ohio, he had struggled for acceptance: the right to be equal and different at the same time. To live the kind of lifestyle that defines gay sexuality and to be an individual as well as part of the group which all gay men belonged to.

  ‘In a way, we began to create a beautiful world; a world that finally made us happy, where we could live almost charmed lives, unencumbered by hostility and prejudice. Then this AIDS business comes along out of the blue and changes everything.’ Steve continued, ‘Some people think we’re deliberately spreading disease and although we know that’s far from the truth, we are having to deal with a good deal of hostility. Moreover, we’re having to change our habits, and nowadays you dare not sleep with anyone you don’t know, for fear of taking a risk, and you know what? You can’t even be sure that your own partner is safe.’

  ‘Perhaps the scale of anonymous sexual activity here in the States was bound to take its toll. Do you think we’ve all lost our way?’ Clive asked.

  This last remark caused the two Americans to chew on their food more slowly and they finally put down their forks. Clive quickly tried to salvage the situation with: ‘Oh dear, now I’m beginning to sound like Jerry Falwell and his Moral Majority, and I honestly don’t mean to. But wouldn’t you both agree that so much promiscuous sexual behaviour did get a bit out of hand?’

  And, still struggling to salvage his faux pas, he continued: ‘I mean to say, I read an article in Newsweek – or was it Time magazine? I can’t remember which – that stated that the director of public health in San Francisco ordered the closure of a dozen or so gay establishments: bathhouses, bookstores and the like, which he claimed were fostering disease and death.’

  ‘Now national publicity like that does all of us in the gay community no damn good at all,’ Steve responded.

  Sensing the temperature of the discussion between Steve and Clive rising, Michael cleared away the dishes and interjected: ‘I suppose we really should have taken more responsibility for ourselves. I mean to say, the combination of multiple partners and unprotected sex was bound to lead to the spread of all sorts of sexual diseases. But who could have anticipated this plague that’s hit us now?’ he called out over his shoulder as he headed for the kitchen.

  ‘Steve, do you think it’s a plague too?’

  ‘Oh. I think it’s worse than that Clive, much worse.’ And then he whispered: ‘I think it’s murder!’

  It was the kind of near-hysterical remark that Clive had come to expect in the States, but hearing it from Steve somewhat surprised him; he began to see Mr Leggard in a different light, and so he urged him to elaborate.

  ‘I’m prepared to go so far as to say that I have collected enough evidence to persuade me that there is a strong possibility that the spread of AIDS amongst us could have been motivated by powerful forces in authority. And you’ve got to remember that those gay rights activists in San Francisco, protesting against the closures you mentioned earlier, claimed that such action had been taken for political reasons rather than for medical concerns.’

  Clive remembered what his dear friend Susan Carlsberg had told him while he was in New York a year earlier, and that prompted him to say: ‘Next you’re going to tell me that your government are also directly involved.’

  Then in hushed tones Steve added: ‘Clive, I’d really rather not talk about this any more tonight, if you don’t mind, for reasons I’ll explain some other time. Look, here’s my card – give me a bell. Why don’t you come down to my office tomorrow afternoon and see what goes on at Columbus Cares? There we can talk this thing through a little more, and maybe have dinner afterwards and get Michael to join us. You know there are some very good restaurants downtown, and I’m particularly fond of Le Gai Paris. Say, Michael told me you were half French.’

  ‘Oui monsieur. Ma mère était française.’

  ‘Et voilà les fraises,’ announced Michael with a flourish as he arrived with the dessert.

  ‘Michael, I didn’t know you spoke French.’

  ‘Really Clive, I haven’t told you all my little secrets – there’s quite a bit more you don’t know about me.’

  ‘What I do know for certain is that you’re a jolly good cook. And to top it all, it’s such a great treat to eat strawberries this early in the year. Back home in Blighty we don’t normally have them till June.’

  ‘We don’t either. Michael has had them flown in specially from Florida in honour of your visit,’ Steve joked.

  Over coffee and brandy, Clive tried to steer the conversation back to the remarks Steve had made about the American government, but Mr Leggard wasn’t having any of it. ‘Look, I really think I got a bit carried away with my conspiracy theory just now and Michael’s excellent brandy won’t help me do justice to my own arguments. And Clive, as charming as you may appear to be, for all I know you could be a secret agent.’

  Clive took the hint, and rather than spoil what had been a delicious luncheon and delightful first meeting, decided to let his new Columbus acquaintance off the hook and turn on that Spoke charm, which he was becoming well known for amongst his new American pals.

  ‘Listen chaps, the only agent I am is a theatrical one, and there’s no secret about that.’ Which received an amused response from his two Columbus buddies.

  So, with lunch over, their guest took his leave of them, first reminding Clive that he was looking forward to him visiting his office at Columbus Cares the following day. Helping Michael clear the table, Clive began to question his host about the earlier discussion he’d had with Steve, admitting that he found Steve’s ideas quite fantastic and wondered whether his best friend had ever mentioned his so-called conspiracy theory to him before.

  ‘No, not really,’ came Michael’s reply.

  ‘Well, Steve said that he thought the spread of AIDS could have been motivated by governmental forces and suggested that there was some sort of plot to wipe out the entire male gay population in your country.’

  ‘Oh really! That’s Steve for you. But it wouldn’t be the first time in this century that extermination has been tried out – genocides are always planned. Do you suppose thos
e Jews in Poland had any idea of what was going on in Treblinka? They had become victims, were identified because of differences that made them unpopular, and people got jealous of them too.’

  ‘That’s perfectly true. But, Michael, this is 1984, for goodness sake. I know bigotry exists all over the world, but there’s no war going on now and surely your government wouldn’t be crazy enough to wipe out an entire section of its own people?’

  ‘Sometimes I wonder about this great democratic country of mine. Things still get covered up, and certain interests have to be protected. Injustices have become endemic here in the States and you don’t have to look far beyond what happened to the Kennedys for evidence of what I’m talking about. You do know that the FBI files were later to reveal that several CIA operatives were mixed up with those two murders?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve read up quite a lot about the Kennedys, but please go on.’

  ‘You can’t convince me that the murder of one of the potentially greatest presidents of the United States of America can still remain such a mystery. All that hogwash about one bullet ricocheting when there were actually three bullets fired. And why was it so easy for Jack Ruby to kill Lee Harvey Oswald? It’s just one big cover-up after another, leaving so many questions unanswered and evidence that never came to light. It’s all bullshit!’

  Michael was now getting quite agitated. Clive tried to appease him, but the next thing he mentioned gave further impetus to his host’s argument. Clive had just read a very convincing book, In God’s Name, which alleged that Pope John Paul I had been poisoned in his own bed by some cardinals in the Vatican.

  ‘That’s precisely what I’m getting at, and of course it doesn’t just happen here in the USA. It’s the sort of thing that goes on all over the world in this so-called Western democratic society of ours, and is kept covered up by all the people with money, power and influence.’

  ‘You and Steve are obviously not alone in your opinions, and I have to admit that a very dear friend in New York has also expressed similar views.’ Then Clive added: ‘What does that doctor friend of yours think?’

  ‘Oh, Allen’s rather enigmatic. He claims he’s too busy treating his patients and doesn’t want to get involved in politics. In fact, he’s really quite private and appears to lead a rather solitary existence, which is surprising when you think how eligible he is. It’s always difficult to get anything out of him except when you get him on the subject of health.’

  ‘Really? He sounds rather intriguing.’

  ‘He’s that all right, and he’s a wonderful human being.’

  ‘I can’t wait to be introduced to Allen, now I’ve met Steve. Listen Michael, I’m sorry to go on about the rather bold assertions Steve made about your government, but I find them, how can I say—’

  ‘Clive, believe me, they aren’t just Steve’s opinions. There was even stuff that Dennis was trying to tell me just before he passed away. He led me to believe that he might have been onto something too.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, at the time, he was so very ill and was struggling to get his words out. I had to urge him to save his energy and so it was never really clear what he was trying to tell me. And anyway, whatever he may have got hold of, got hold of him in the end.’

  ‘You don’t mean to tell me that Dennis was also involved in this conspiracy theory of Steve’s too?’

  ‘I think I’m rambling – it must be the brandy speaking. All I can say is that following the results of the blood test Allen Levitt gave him, I was so very distressed to find out the nature of the illness that Den had contracted, even my own reality became somewhat distorted and it was hard for me to keep my cool … Look, Clive, can we drop all this for now?’

  The Englishman clearly saw that his line of questioning was going nowhere and, furthermore, it was upsetting his friend. So, much to Michael’s relief, Clive extricated himself by announcing that jetlag had kicked in and that he needed to lie down for a while and take a nap, which is what he told Michael he liked to call his siesta.

  As he climbed the open staircase, he just couldn’t get Steve’s remarks out of his head, so he decided he would phone his new acquaintance after he’d had his rest, and take him up on his invitation to meet up downtown the following day at Columbus Cares. He really wanted to find out more about Steve’s conspiracy theory.

  After his siesta, Clive rejoined Michael and told him that he’d arranged to meet up with Steve the next day at his office, but led Michael to believe it was on the pretext of finding out more about the workshops that went on there rather than reveal his true intention. Michael felt that they should try to take things easy that afternoon and have an early night, but he did broach the subject of a visit to the cemetery where Dennis was buried for the next day. Clive said he had hoped Michael would suggest that they went, since he was keen to go and pay his final respects and thought that might help to bring greater closure for him.

  So on Thursday morning they woke bright and early, had a light breakfast, then occupied themselves with clearing out the attic, which Michael claimed badly needed attending to. After lunch, Michael offered to drive Clive over to Columbus Cares for his rendezvous with Steve, and arranged to collect him at four-thirty so that they could go to the cemetery together.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE FRED MACADAM SAGA THURSDAY

  ‘Steve, it’s so very kind of you to invite me here to Columbus Cares.’

  ‘Clive, don’t be silly, it’s really a great pleasure. I so much enjoyed meeting you yesterday, and I just know we are going to become real good friends. Now I thought my tour could start with a visit to the factory space.’

  ‘To be honest, and I hope you won’t think me rude, but I’m much more curious to learn more about what you started to tell me while we were having lunch yesterday. Of course I am very interested in what goes on here, but I just can’t get over what you were saying to me while Michael was in the kitchen … You remember – all that amazing stuff about how you thought that your government was involved in a plot to rid the United States of its gay male community. So I’ve got lots of questions to ask you.’

  ‘I see … then fire away!’

  ‘Well, I first want to start with Dennis.’

  Clive’s remark seemed to throw Steve off his guard for a moment, but he quickly covered up and tried to dismiss the question with: ‘Oh, you know what Den was like.’

  Clive’s reaction was quite intense: ‘Yes I certainly do, he’s part of my history. That man meant more to me than anyone I have ever known, before or since our affair on Cape Cod. It may be nothing at all, but actually it was also something Michael had started to tell me last night as we were turning in that made me think that maybe Dennis had picked up some incriminating material before he died, and somehow it seemed to link in with your conspiracy theory.’

  ‘As a matter of fact, when he came to the Men’s Center, Dennis did share some rather extraordinary information with me.’

  ‘Oh, really! Like what exactly?’

  ‘He called it his wipe-out theory.’

  ‘His what! You’re kidding – surely Dennis was far too intelligent to get mixed up in some stupid gay avengers soap opera.’

  ‘This is no cloak-and-dagger story. Thousands of us are dying and if Dennis was right, and I now believe he was, we’re talking about a carefully calculated plot to get rid of a lot of us here in the United States, and on a massive scale.’

  This last remark only confirmed the rumours Clive had picked up on while in New York the previous year, and so he urged Steve to tell him how Dennis had got so involved in his so-called ‘wipeout theory’ in the first place.

  ‘Look Clive, I just don’t know where to begin with all this, and if you’re meeting Michael shortly, and going to Dove Park with him, then we need to find another time and place to get together and talk this thing through. Why don’t you get Michael to drop you off at my place later today? I feel I can talk more freely in the privacy of my own hom
e than I can here, and then I’ll tell you everything I know.’

  Clive went along with that suggestion, which helped ease the tension between his new acquaintance and himself. He knew full well that Michael was visiting his folks that evening, and told Steve that he thought that he and Michael could probably benefit from a break from one another after their proposed trip to the cemetery that afternoon. Steve completely understood how Clive was feeling and so he agreed to go along with the idea that they meet up later that evening. He announced that he was more than happy to start his tour of the premises: they would begin in the practice rooms, have some coffee in the cafeteria and then Steve would set about showing Clive around the rest of the establishment. Later on, and punctual as ever, Michael turned up on time and was waiting for Clive outside at four-thirty as arranged.

  Clive hated cemeteries at the best of times, since he thought there was never a good moment to visit a graveside, but he knew it was his duty to accompany Michael and, besides, he hoped it would make Dennis’s death a fact and help bring a degree of finality, if not solace, to his friend’s passing. So the two mourners set off on their pilgrimage to Dove Park while it was still light. They headed out of the city in a southerly direction and once they had branched off the motorway, they drove through what appeared to be quite ordinary parkland. Clive thought it looked like a large estate, with row upon row of meticulously planted evergreen trees stretching far off into the distance. Eventually the wooded glade thinned out and they found themselves driving along a broad, tree-lined avenue, on either side of which were acres of grassland, speckled sporadically with tiny marbled mounds set far apart from each other, but dotted all over the sprawling lawns.

  Clive couldn’t help being overwhelmed by the scale of Dove Park, mirroring the vastness of the country its occupants had once peopled. It was in such stark contrast to the compactness of the smaller European walled cities of the dead with which he was so much more familiar. Clive reflected that back home the deceased were kept locked up and sometimes stored one on top of the other, whereas here in the States they were positively encouraged to roam freely all over the wide-open spaces. Once parked alongside a grass verge, they left the brown sedan and approached a small marble headstone set way off from the roadside, each clutching a small bunch of flowers. As the grave came into view, it had an unexpectedly numbing effect on Clive as opposed to the rush of emotion he had anticipated.