The Rainbow Conspiracy Read online

  The fact that Dennis’s remains were buried somewhere under a modest stone slab offered him small consolation, though clearly he recognised that it all meant quite a lot to Michael.

  The simple inscription read:

  DENNIS MONTROSE

  (1941–1984)

  Lying in the mud, but looking up at the stars

  However, when he took in what was written on the headstone, Clive became deeply moved, and he smiled with a mixture of joy and tears as he read the wording. Michael told him that Dennis had chosen the quotation himself and Clive realised, perhaps for the first time, that his lifeguard had been much more theatrical than he had ever thought. Michael explained that Dennis had been reading up on old movie stars and that just before he had gone back into hospital for the last time, he had found an autobiography about Ida Lupino and the quote came from her book.

  It is difficult to say how long the two men remained there, kneeling by the graveside and gazing at that stone slab, both in their separate and private worlds of remembrance, uselessly willing Dennis back to life again and both mutually sharing the need to be there. At times, they silently vented their emotions, at other moments they erupted into roaring anger and their uninhibited cries echoed loudly around the cemetery.

  After having placed their flowers on the grave, they bade farewell to their dear friend, got back into the car and drove back along the tree-lined avenue. The two mourners were obviously exhausted by what they had experienced, and silenced by their act of commemoration, breathing a sigh of relief as they left the blaring silence of Dove Park behind them. That block of stone had solidly confirmed that their friend was gone for ever, but perhaps no more emphatically than returning to his house in Alexandria Colony Court to find it so empty without him.

  The two didn’t stay long in Dennis’s house, since Michael had arranged to visit his folks and Clive was meeting up with Steve at his home. Michael dropped Clive off there and after they had exchanged the briefest of goodbyes, Clive couldn’t but feel more than a little guilty about leaving his friend alone in his car in such a solemn mood. However, he was more determined than ever to get to the bottom of what Dennis had found out and truly believed that only Steve held the key to solving that mystery.

  So, deposited outside yet another Columbus residence, and despite the fading light, Clive realised how very spacious and comfortable the local Ohio architecture appeared to be. He noticed that Steve’s place was one of those semi-detached ranch-style wooden houses with a steep, sloping roof and elaborate front porch. His host came to the front door and Clive was greeted in a most friendly manner. Steve, who had changed out of the suit he wore for work, was now in a pair of jeans, a T-shirt and a cardigan, and seemed a good deal more relaxed on home ground. The gin and tonics flowed but Steve was clearly sensitive to the effect Dove Park had had on his new English buddy and admitted that he also found a visit to the cemetery a draining experience. He heaved himself out of an ample armchair and then proceeded to top Clive up and offer him some delicious hors d’oeuvres. Clive thanked Steve for inviting him over to Columbus Cares earlier that day, and commented on how impressed he was by the entire operation.

  Steve was evidently proud of what his team had been able to achieve, and pleased that Clive had been able to find the time to visit. He was well aware that Clive had come to talk about the subject that had been broached earlier on that day, so after a while, when they had both relaxed, he felt that the moment was right for Clive to be enlightened about what their late friend had got up to.

  ‘Clive, apart from teaching, you do know about Dennis’s other profession?’

  ‘You mean, did I know he was on the game? Yes, of course I did. He told me all about it, and was pleased as punch that his earnings had helped buy Benjy and allowed him to put a deposit down on his house. But I gather Michael found Den’s sideline difficult at times.’

  ‘Oh, he learnt to live with it – eventually, but I have to tell you that at the start of their relationship, their rows got so intense that Dennis announced he was going to spend the summer with his folks, who had moved out west to Sacramento.’

  ‘I bet he didn’t spend much time with them. Steve, these hors d’ oeuvres are simply delicious, by the way.’

  ‘Oh, thank you … and yes, you’re sure as hell right. He soon hightailed it down to Los Angeles, where he got involved with a very fast crowd and hawked his ass around clubs, discos and the Strip, of course. He was doing all right, but then he met Fred Macadam and his whole world was turned upside down.’

  This was a name Clive had not heard before and his slightly puzzled look caused Steve to offer more of an explanation. Clearly the Macadam case had not made it into the British newspapers, but from what Steve related, it had caused quite a stir on his side of the pond. Fred Macadam had been a jobbing actor in New York, but he became disillusioned with the Broadway scene and, like so many before him, decided he would try his luck in Hollywood. However, although he was a talented, well built and good looking guy, his acting career didn’t appear to take off there either and so, Steve explained, Fred put his talents to other uses.

  Within no time at all, he acquired quite a following, but not of the kind he had aspired to as an actor and, by the early seventies, he had started to organise private sex parties for a circle of rich gay Californian men who could not be open about their sexuality. Fred used to take orders in advance, could supply on demand and, since his clientele didn’t want to be seen cruising the downtown Los Angeles fleshpots, what had begun as a sideline soon turned into a lucrative business. In no time at all, he’d bought an old hotel in which he set up a high-class male brothel, one of the first of its kind in the state of California.

  This was a period of Dennis’s life Clive knew relatively little about, and Steve really relished filling him in on the lifeguard’s Californian escapades. Although Fred had lots of young men on his books, Dennis soon became one of his most popular sex operators, and Steve went on to explain that the brothel regulars came from far and wide, and one of them had taken more than just a shine to him. This was hardly surprising, since the client in question was only turned on by marines and bodybuilders, and Dennis fulfilled those requirements twofold. What’s more, the guy was no ordinary meal ticket either, since not only was he not hurting for money, he was also a respected member of the Senate, and so you could say Dennis had hit the jackpot.

  When Clive pressed Steve to reveal the identity of the senator, he began to prevaricate somewhat, and said that he would prefer to refer to him as Jim, for reasons which would become a lot clearer when he got to the end of the Macadam saga. Clive remembered that on his first visit to Columbus, Dennis had mentioned a chap called Jim who was a senator, and that he was one of his ‘regulars’, so Clive was keen to hear more about the man.

  Steve set about revealing that a well-known Los Angeles investigative magazine had planted an undercover reporter in the brothel, and that subsequently it ran an explosive series of articles, naming names and exposing Fred Macadam’s sex business. The police finally raided the joint, closed it down, and Fred was accused of employing underage young men, for which crime he was finally sent to jail. Steve suggested that because Jim probably had contacts in high places, he had managed to keep his own name out of the press, since it would have been devastating for the senator and his family if he’d been shopped. He also told Clive that, as luck would have it, Dennis had decided to move back to Columbus by then, and despite all that had happened, both men managed to escape controversy and had both weathered the storm.

  ‘So how long did their liaison last?’ asked Clive.

  ‘They kept in touch just up until Jim died, about twelve months ago.’

  ‘Don’t tell me this Jim had AIDS too?’

  ‘No. Jim was murdered.’

  ‘Now you’re not going to tell me that was because he stopped paying his brothel bills?’

  ‘Clive, this is serious stuff. I know for a fact that according to the FBI criminal records
division, Senator Jim was leading a very complicated kind of existence. Few things aroused J. Edgar Hoover’s wrath as much as sexual misconduct and, unbeknown to Jim, Dennis told me that there existed a file against his senator friend. At the time, Dennis didn’t explain how he had acquired so much information about Jim, but it was clear from what he did tell me that his Senator friend liked to live on the edge, and although married with four children – to whom, by the way, he was devoted – his domestic situation did not prevent him from dabbling.’

  ‘A true bisexual. You know, when I first met Dennis, that’s what I thought he was.’

  ‘Really? Now that doesn’t surprise me for one moment. Anyway, to get back to Jim, before he became a senator, he’d been a football star at Amherst College in Massachusetts; but instead of turning pro, he went into politics with a capital P. If he’d had any boyfriends in his team, Jim must have kept them well hidden and besides, because he was such a good-looking all-American jock, no one ever suspected him of being a faggot.’

  That word jarred and reminded Clive of how angry its use had made Dennis feel.

  ‘Maybe he was just a late starter,’ Clive suggested.

  ‘Probably. We’ve all been to bed with those, and thankfully too, as I recall. There’s nothing like introducing a straight to the joys of gay sex. They usually want it bad, to make up for all that lost time – and who can blame them? And, if my memory serves me right, they usually like to take it and want to be fucked into the next decade.’

  Clive thought that Steve was beginning to show quite another side to his character. He had begun to wonder whether it was the endless refilling of the glasses that revealed Steve’s true personality or whether his Spoke judgement was simply beginning to find Mr Leggard rather common. What was clear however, was that as the evening wore on, he thought that his companion was becoming much less guarded and slightly irreverent.

  ‘Why exactly do you think Dennis came back to Columbus, if he was doing so well in California?’ asked Clive.

  ‘Maybe he got ass-ache. No, really, I don’t know. Maybe he just had enough.’

  ‘I can quite understand that. Or perhaps he wanted to live a more normal existence with Michael.’

  ‘Clive, you know it may indeed have been to get back with Michael again, but Den never told me exactly what made him come back here, although I have to admit that it was just as well he returned before that magazine scandal erupted.’

  ‘So when was this? I mean, what year?’

  ‘Let me see, I think he graduated in ‘69, did a year’s teaching probation and then went out West for about eighteen months. I think he moved back to Columbus over Christmas ‘72 or was it ‘73? … I can’t quite remember.’

  ‘And so he took up again with Michael?’

  ‘Yes. As I said, they’d met one another before Den went out to California. Michael had been studying fine art at Dennison and Den used to model for those life-drawing classes there and that’s where they first met.’

  ‘Yes of course. And, by the way, you know I went to watch him pose for one of his weekly sessions when I visited Columbus the last time I was here? He was such a natural and I shall never forget the superb performance he gave.’

  ‘Well, naturally all of that had to stop when he got sick. His health deteriorated so quickly, he started to lose weight and became so weak that he could barely walk, let alone model.’

  ‘It must have been agony for him. Witnessing that body he’d taken such good care of waste away, without him being able to do anything about it. You know, I still just can’t believe this could have happened to our big, strong Dennis.’

  ‘Don’t worry. Neither could he.’

  They both then seemed to observe a minute’s silence. Steve broke the pause in their conversation: ‘I say, I need another, don’t you?’

  This time Clive volunteered to bring the gin over to where they were sitting, poured two good measures, adding the tonic, and left the glasses on the table close by: ‘Please go on.’

  ‘Now where was I?’

  ‘Dennis returned to Columbus and took up with Michael once more,’ Clive prompted.

  ‘Right. But then after about six months, Jim contacted him again and invited him out to Washington DC and this time, he wouldn’t take no for an answer.’

  ‘Didn’t Michael mind?’

  ‘Of course he minded, but he couldn’t give Dennis up. Besides, he knew what was going on in Columbus right under his very nose. Dennis had his regular clientele here you know, and the extra dough came in handy for both of them.’

  ‘I suppose Michael simply turned a blind eye.’

  ‘He knew the score and, let’s face it, Dennis always came back to him. Anyway, Michael wasn’t totally innocent either. He was very popular too, you know. He didn’t do it for money, of course, but he often cruised the biology faculty tea room and, being a good-looking young man, he did very well there, or so I gather.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure. Anyway, so Dennis took up with Senator Jim again and … did their relationship last long?’

  ‘Curiously no, not at the time. I don’t know exactly what occurred, if indeed anything in particular did actually happen. I think Jim must have just got tired of him and so he found someone younger and closer to hand. After all, DC is quite a way from here and so, by employing a local, he saved on airfares and his new trick would have always been on tap. According to Dennis, Jim was a very attractive, bright and powerful man, and would have had no difficulty in finding a replacement and impressing some young stud in Washington. As far as I know, I don’t believe that Jim and his new boyfriend were ever found out there, but I believe this new relationship had something to do with what happened later.’

  ‘But you still haven’t told me why he was murdered nor why he had a history with the FBI’s criminal records division.’

  ‘Yes, you’re right, and this is where I do get a little confused about dates. But I think it was the spring of ‘79 when Den told me he had heard from Jim again.’

  ‘After not having heard from him for some time?’

  ‘Exactly. This time Jim had invited Dennis to join him on a skiing holiday in Colorado. Aspen, of all places! Now I don’t know how much you know about American ski resorts, but honestly you couldn’t pick a more rednecked part of the woods if you tried.’

  Clive remembered Aspen well, and realised that his visit must have coincided with the time Dennis had joined the senator there.

  ‘Maybe that’s the reason why this Jim chose it. Hardly the kind of location for their sort of assignation,’ Clive said, deciding to conceal the fact that he had gone there himself to meet up with Dennis.

  ‘Anyway, the choice of resort made no difference to our Den,’ Steve continued, ‘and so off he trotted with his ski boots intact. He was never one to turn down a free trip, especially if it meant a couple of hundred bucks fuck money thrown in, and all expenses paid.’

  As the evening wore on, the more Steve revealed his uncharitable colours, and, not unsurprisingly, the less Clive warmed to him; although he also had to admit to himself that there was bound to be a certain amount of truth in what he was hearing. He decided to put Steve’s unfortunate turns of phrase partially down to alcohol while, at the same time, he was aware that his Spoke nose was more than capable of catching a cold. He really felt Steve was being disrespectful to speak of the dead in quite such a forthright manner, even though he recognised that it was probably an accurate description of the way Dennis operated. At any rate, Clive was determined to keep his Aspen rendezvous a secret from Steve for the time being, until he felt he could trust him more. He realised that he simply needed to persevere with his host if he was to acquire the information about Jim which he now so desperately wanted. The more so because his visit in ‘76 had made him realise how much senator had come to mean to Dennis.

  ‘Den found Jim a very changed man,’ Steve continued.

  ‘You mean he’d come out and was liberated?’

  ‘No. Quite the rever
se. He was twitchy and nervous and told Den that several attempts had been made on his life. You know, the FBI was perfectly capable of creating a climate of discord and mistrust for anyone they were on to, and clearly they had Jim under surveillance. He had become really scared, apparently needed to talk to someone he could rely on, and that’s why he invited Den to join him in Aspen.’

  ‘So this time he needed Dennis more for counsel than pleasure.’

  ‘Den didn’t quite go that far. But what he did tell me was that Jim was travelling under an assumed name and had taken an extended leave of absence, attributed to overwork, ill health and exhaustion. He’d even changed his appearance and went to great lengths to disguise himself: he’d shaved his head, wore narrow-rimmed hippie-style glasses, dirty old jeans and ex-army clothes. Dennis told me he scarcely recognised his suave senator when they met up again at the airport in Aspen.’

  ‘How do you know so much detail?’

  Steve continued to explain that when Dennis turned up at the Men’s Center in such a disturbed state and in need of counselling, he was on duty that morning and interviewed him.

  ‘I was a volunteer there, and the day Den wandered in with his story, he got me. It was quite obvious that he didn’t want to offload any of his findings onto Michael.’

  ‘So that’s how you two met. Of course, Michael told me you’re a volunteer there. But you know, I simply thought you were one of his tricks, like the rest of us,’ Clive said to lighten things up a bit.