Free Flight of Aquavit by Anthony Bidulka Page B

backside.
    78 — F l i g h t o f A q u av i t
    “Now we know,” Daniel uttered cryptically.
    “Now we know who Loverboy is. James Kraft.”
    He looked at me and grimly said, “Go get him.”
    After we’d spent too much time staring at the pic-
    ture of Jo/Loverboy/James Kraft and his related
    biographical information, such as it was, I shoved
    all the photographs and bios back into my leather
    folder and prepared for a difficult conversation.
    Something had bothered me since my first meet-
    ing with Daniel Guest. But now that I’d shown
    him some results and hopefully garnered a bit of
    trust, it was time to tackle it. I didn’t know how to
    broach the subject delicately—so I hopped in with
    both boots and hoped for the best.
    “Daniel, I know that because of what hap-
    pened between the two of you you’re certain
    James Kraft is the blackmailer, but…well…are you
    telling me you’ve only ever slept with one man?”
    It didn’t sound odd when I first heard the ques-
    tion in my head, but as it rolled off my tongue I
    realized it might sound as if I was making fun of
    him. After all, he was a married man. It was as if I
    was chiding him for fooling around on his wife
    only once. “And that’s okay if that’s true,” I quickly
    added, “but if not, I need to know. Because if
    you’re only considering men you slept with
    immediately prior to receiving the note, well, I
    don’t think that’s reasonable.”
    Daniel’s nostrils were flaring and the palette of
    colour in his cheeks was intensifying in hue. The
    poor man was certainly experiencing a full gamut
    Anthony Bidulka — 79
    of emotions this morning. For an uncomfortable
    moment we sat in silence. I decided to sit it out
    and see what happened.
    The silence finally broke. “Why are you doing
    this? We know who the blackmailer is—James
    Kraft—I’ve hired you to stop him. Why aren’t you
    just willing to do that?”
    Ahhhhh crap! The answer was in his eyes. They
    were shifting back and forth as if trying to escape
    their own sockets. He’d lied to me—or at least he’d
    omitted the whole truth. “I’ve just told you why,” I
    said, keeping my tone admirably even.
    More silence, then, “There is someone else,” he
    revealed in clipped tones as if he’d been forced to
    admit a dirty little secret on which he’d be poorly
    judged. “Someone other than Jo…James Kraft.”
    I swore in my head but kept my mouth shut.
    An uncomfortable thought crossed my mind.
    James Kraft obviously wasn’t Hugh, but this new
    man he had just admitted to could be.
    “I know what you’re thinking,” he said.
    I was betting he was only partially right. I was-
    n’t in the business of judging him or even caring
    how many people he slept with. But I was in the
    business of thinking he was a big, fat liar. Or, at
    the very least, a big fat…omitter of truth.
    “Could this other man be Loverboy?” I asked,
    remaining sedate.
    “I really don’t think so.” His face was closed.
    He knew I was a bit mad at him for lying and he
    was a bit mad at himself for being caught at it.
    “Maybe you should tell me about him. Just in
    case.”
    80 — F l i g h t o f A q u av i t
    “I shouldn’t have to talk about this. I can’t talk
    about this. I have clients to attend to.”
    His words were dismissive, but his face and
    tone of voice told me the truth. Suddenly I found
    myself softening towards this liar…er…client. It
    wasn’t me he wanted to get rid of; it was his whole
    life for the past twenty years.
    Realizing I wasn’t giving up, he let out a loud
    sigh and gave in. “James wasn’t the first,” he
    admitted. “This past summer, late August, I met a
    guy in the chatroom. I’d only been doing the cha-
    troom thing for a couple weeks. I didn’t really
    know what I was doing. But it seemed harmless
    enough. It was just typing words on a computer. I
    never dreamed I’d ever go any further with it.”
    Another sigh, then, “I met a guy whose