Tangled Web

"As interesting as your early identity crisis is, what has it to do with giving evidence to the FBI?" Guy asked wanting an end to the story and a return to the loving.

"In due time, impatient one. Don't worry, you'll get what's coming to you. Anyway, a couple of weeks later, Mr. Marcus died. I felt awful, for him and for Cal, since I knew they were lovers. I went to the memorial service they had, the Provost, Dr. Waldheim gave a very moving eulogy. I was pretty upset and had lost my chance to talk with Mr. Marcus about me. Later that afternoon as I was about to go into a class, one of the administration staff stopped me and asked me to go see the Provost. Dr. Waldheim was a nice enough person, but hell, he was the real head of the college. I couldn't imagine what he might want to see me about. I even thought that maybe he knew about me, my secret. Yes, by your expression I can see you thought I was a real mess, and I guess you'd be right. I get called into the Provost's office and there are these FBI agents. I was terrified and lost it. Dr. Waldheim was really nice to me, but when they asked me what I knew about Mr. Marcus and Cal, I fell apart. I had to tell them what I had seen and also why I was there peeking in the window. It was awful."

"But you did your civic duty. Whatever became of the case?

"That's not even the whole case. The FBI agent told me a student was missing and somehow it involved Mr. Marcus's death and Cal Stephenson. That's when things got weird. Cal Stephenson was never seen again. The student, Samir a student from overseas somewhere, never returned. After a few weeks, the FBI agents that had swarmed the campus disappeared and no mention was made of the whole thing ever again."

"That's it? That's your testimony to the FBI?"

"Yes, it never went anywhere."

"I wonder if the case is still on the books? I could check the system. Hmmm, interesting."

"Oddly, it did help me out in the end. Dr. Waldheim took an interest in me." Guy looked at Alex with raised eyebrows. "Not like that, you pervert. He greeted me when we passed, sat at the same table at lunch, stuff like that. One time at lunch he invited to our table the professor who advised the GLBT group on campus. We got to talking. A few minutes later, several of the students I was pretty sure were gay came and sat with us. All of a sudden, I was part of their group. And thus you see the result, the well-adjusted, loveable me."

***

"I've got a treat for you" Guy teased when he came home from work.

"Since you've still got your pants on, I'm assuming it's not the usual treat" Alex replied sarcastically.

"That treat will be brought out later. I have another treat." Guy opened his brief case and took out a thick file of papers.

"That" indicating the file "does not look like a treat to me" Alex complained.

"It's the file, the file of the case where you gave testimony."

"No shit. How did you get it?"

"Well, one of the privileges of working in the DA's office is you can ask for case material. No one much cares about the 'unsolved case files' so I asked for it and a few days later here it is."

Alex called out for Chinese food to be delivered so they could read as they ate. They sat down at the dining room table and began pouring over the file.

Guy made occasional commentary. "Yadda, yadda, yadda, usual pro forma investigation stuff. Student goes missing, special flag on his file, they call the embassy, the embassy calls State, State calls FBI. FBI investigates."

"They talk with Marcus. This is weird. They took Marcus to the hospital to get a semen sample -- out of his ass. I guess that time you saw them together wasn't the only time Stephenson and Marcus got it on. It says here that Marcus was murdered. And Stephenson was suspected to be at the hospital at the same time. Your lovers seemed to have been troubled."

Alex protested, "I'm not buying it. Those two met every day at a bench on campus. While they were sufficiently reserved, no one doubted they were in love."

"Hang on, it looks like Marcus was getting it on with half the campus. They found twelve guys semen up his ass."

"I admit I was pretty far out of the mainstream of gay life at school, but there is no way Mr. Marcus was getting porked by half the campus."

"It does seem hard to believe you were the only one at the college not up that guy's butt. Still the lab results were conclusive. Damn. Hey, here is your testimony, Alex. You gave them the substantive link between Marcus and Stephenson. I take back all I said about citizens and their testimony."

Guy exclaimed, "Wait a minute. I think I know this one, Thibaud. I told you I spent my summers at my grandparent's place in Provence. Well my best friend -- now don't look at me like that, I was not screwing around as a child -- my best friend was Thibaud. He was a good looking kid, always up to some kind of trouble. We had a marvelous time. Yes, it lists his permanent address. That's him. I wonder how he turned out. Look, read this. It's definitely the Thibaud I knew, thumbing his nose at the authorities. What a hoot. Apparently he knew Cal Stephenson himself, very well. Still, what he said only opens more questions. Not much doubt about what Cal and Thibaud did together, but why all the way up in Vermont? It sounds like a nearby motel would have served the purpose."

"You can see the case just winding down. The full dragnet search turns up nobody, not Stephenson, not the student, Samir. No proof of who killed Marcus. A fair amount of screaming from the embassy, the State Department, some guy named Worthington..."

"He's the college president. A real asshole. He was just there to squeeze alumni and parents for more money. It was rumored that he had 'connections' whatever that meant. Funny, I used to get those alumni donation flyers from him all the time and they don't come around anymore. I would probably toss a few bucks that way if it weren't for him. I wonder why he was bitching at the FBI. The Provost was the one who ran the whole show. I would definitely donate if he asked."

"So that's it, a murder and two missing persons and no answers. You were right there in the middle of it all, Alex. I'm half sorry I got the case files. It's left more questions than answers. I hope you're not upset by what we've learned. Especially about Marcus begin murdered."

"I'm more curious than upset. It would be good to get some answers. Mr. Marcus deserves that. How wild is it that you know someone I went to college with and he was involved, too."

"I have an idea" Guy suggests. "I've always wanted to go back to where I spent my summers. We both have vacation time. I'd love to show you that part of my life. My grandparents are gone now, but they and those summers are a big part of who I am. And we can see if Thibaud is around and remembers either one of us.
CHAPTER FOUR

Thibaud had responded to Alex's email in minutes. Of course he remembered Guy. They had spent summers together throughout their childhood and teen years. He remembered Alex, too, as that elusive Economics major with the shy smile and cute ass. He insisted that they stay with him and his lover, Henri, when in the area. They would be welcome for as long as they liked. Guy would remember place, the big house above the village.

Guy did indeed remember the place, it was a chateau that sat high among sloping vineyards, dominating the village tucked in the valley below. It had always been owned by one of the grand families, but so much had changed in the world, perhaps it had been sold. As children, they had been terrified to even step foot onto the manicured grounds and none had ever been closer than the woods that came near the back gardens. It had been a place of fantasy for them, wondering if a king and queen lived there. Now it was Thibaud and Henri.

Alex and Guy planned to spend their two-week vacation wandering about the South of France, following their fancy with a few specific stops of historical, architectural, and culinary significance. Still, Alex was eager to talk with Thibaud, since he had been implicated in the case. What would he add to their knowledge of what had happened? He had to be their first destination.

It was a pleasant drive from the airport in Nice, Guy taking the wheel. He was undaunted at the winding lanes, the erratic driving of everyone else on the road, even the occasional donkey or flock of geese on the road. They went further and further into the countryside.

"It is just the same as when I was a boy" Guy explained as he turned off the secondary road onto a rural lane along a quiet river. Tall trees overhung the road on both sides, it was like driving in a tunnel. Dappled light reflected off the river glittered on the road ahead. They went up a rise and emerged into a village square, surrounded on three sides by buildings of the soft yellow stone used throughout Provence. The cliché fountain occupied the center of the square, two cafes were in friendly rivalry across the square, old men played petanc and poured from a bottle of wine.

"Nothing changes here" Guy was nostalgic. He parked the car and led to one of the cafes. The buxom proprietress came to the table with a bottle of red wine and baguette. She asked only 'cassoulet?' They greedily agreed. "This is Wednesday, so of course they will have the cassoulet. It has been this way since Charlemagne and maybe before." Alex smiled at the growing French influence in Guy's speech. He's such an American, it's easy to forget his close ties to this area.

When the proprietress brought out the steaming bowls, Guy caught her eye. "A question?"

"Oui."

"The chateau above the village. Has it a new owner?" He translated for my benefit.

"Non." Chatty bunch these French.

"Monsieur Henri?"

"Oui, he is the master."

"Merci."

"De rien."

Guy smiled broadly. "So, Thibaud has caught a big fish. Henri is the head of the family that owns not only the Chateau, but most of the South of France. And you thought he wasn't a serious person, just dedicated to flirtations and fun. He must have worked very hard for this score."

"The Thibaud I remember spent class time disconcerting the professor -- male or female -- with silly questions and sensual looks on his handsome face. I don't know how he passed the classes, though as an exchange student, maybe they gave him some slack."

"When we were kids, he was always up to some mischief. Usually innocent pranks, but occasionally we would get hauled down to the prefect's office. We would be lectured in the grandest terms on our responsibilities as the next generation of Frenchman to uphold the traditions that made France great. Thibaud would even appear to pay attention. Then he would mention his father the judge on the bench in Paris, and we would be escorted to the boulangerie for a treat. Élas."

"Do you think it's too early to go to his place?"

"It is after noon, he should be up by now."

Guy drove up the winding road that led out of the village, through lush vineyards to a pair of iron gates set in a long stone wall. They stood open. Guy drew in his breath sharply as he drove through the gates, excited at entering what had been the forbidden territory of his youth. The long lane led strait to the impressive chateau that sat on a rise above the property. The same yellow stone was used, but there the similarity to the village houses ended. The chateau had a central court flanked by wings that seemed to disappear into the distance. Great arched windows marched down the length of the wings, punctuated by niches occupied by sculptures. Guy drove along the curved drive and stopped in front of the central courtyard.

There, in a sunny spot in the center sat Thibaud. He rose from his chair and paraded across the court toward us. "Bienvenue a chez nous" he announced. "Mes chers amis." He embraced us and kissed them in Gallic style.

"You are here at last. I was just having a petit dejeuner, but now that you're here, we'll have some wine. He led us back to his table and rang a small silver bell. An elderly gentleman appeared and was instructed by Thibaud to bring more chairs and some rosé. "The day is already warm and the rosé will be cold. How wonderful to see you each again. So are we an 'item'?" He asked with one raised brow.

Alex admitted that Guy and he were, in fact, an 'item', having been together for two years.

"Splendid. My childhood friend has chosen well. I am a little disappointed, however, that I never got more acquainted with you, Alex."

Alex agreed that he must have been about the only student at the college Thibaud hadn't been intimate with.

"There were always some that did not hold my interest, at least not for more than one night." Thibaud was incorrigible.

Guy and he caught up on local gossip in French. Guy promised to fill Alex in later. Alex was perfectly content to miss ninety percent of the conversation and enjoy the marvelous architecture of the house and the breathtaking view out over the valley. The very fine rosé was lovely, too.

A head peeked around a corner at the front of the courtyard. "Thibaud!"

Thibaud looked up. "Ah Claude, wait for me in the chamber." The strapping Claude gingerly crossed the courtyard and went in a door on one side, looking back at Thibaud anxiously. Then to us, "If you will excuse me for a little while, I have to -- how you say -- settle things with the butcher's delivery boy. Robert will see you to your room. We shall reconvene at, say, four for a swim? Robert will show you the way."

Then from an upstairs window came a plea, "Thibaud."

"And now, Claude awaits."

Thibaud sauntered across to the same door Claude had used and disappeared.

"I'm guessing that's the only butcher's delivery boy that receives the 'meat'" Guy smirked. We laughed and went toward the main entry to find Robert.

***

Guy and Alex had already dipped in the chateau's swimming pool and were again drinking wine when a middle aged man appeared, still dressed as for business. He was indeed handsome and distinguished. "Bonjour. You must be Thibaud's American friends. I am Henri, Thibaud's worshipful slave. Welcome to our home." His accent was elegant, his English perfect. He sat heavily on one of the chairs. "I've just returned from Paris where duty makes its demands. And where is Thibaud?"

We feigned ignorance.

"Then it must be the grocer's boy or the butcher's boy. Oh, yes, I know of his little friends. Entre nous, I am relieved. Thibaud is so demanding in the bedroom. I crave his attention, but it is easier on my ass if he has had some distraction earlier in the day. I thought after all these years his libido would abate. Élas, I have married a satyr. Of course, that is what attracted me in the first place."

Thibaud and Claude emerged from a doorway. Thibaud was unabashed when he saw us observing him. He kissed and hugged Claude and sent him on his way with a pat on the ass.

"You see, it is the butcher's boy today. If only he did not leave the sheets smelling of pate. Alors.

Thibaud crossed the space and plopped into a chair, feigning exhaustion.

"Was there enough for the butcher's boy?" queried Henri.

"He said more than enough" smirked Thibaud.

"I meant in the household funds."

"Barely enough for the generous tip I gave him."

"You are too liberal with the locals, Thibaud. They will begin to expect it as their due."

"Very well, next time I will penetrate him only half way."

"Still too generous by half" rejoined Henri.

***

A stately woman crossed the terrace accompanied by a bevy of small dogs. She carried a parasol to stave off the sun and a scowl to stave off all mankind.

"A catamite convention?"

"Bonjour Maman. Alex, Guy, my mother" introduced Henri.

"As you wish. I have come to take my leave. I am going to Paris" she pronounced.

"But why, Maman? You've barely arrived a week ago."

"In my day, when one of our station chose to ravish a servant or villager, we had the good taste to do it in the barn."

"I'm sorry Maman. He did get a little vocal" defended Thibaud.

"Yes, yes he did. Though I was further surprised to hear it echoing from the other wing, as well. How you managed that" she glowered at Thibaud "is beyond me." Thibaud caught Alex and I exchanging an embarrassed glance and nodded approvingly. "Nonetheless, I am off. Don't worry about me, Robert will escort me to the train where I trust a First Class cabin is still available for the nobility."

We all rose as she turned to leave.

"I'm not sure when it came to pass, but I'm sure all this exposed chest hair and bulging undergarments does not constitute proper attire for polite company. Good day, gentlemen."

Henri gave her hand a kiss. Thibaud escorted her across the terrace, giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek. She patted him gently on the cheek and was gone.

***

"She loves Thibaud more than me. Of course, I love Thibaud more than her, so perhaps it's fair."

"She just loves seeing you happy, dear Henri and I do my best to make you happy."

"Seems to me you're making yourself happy most of the time."

"You were saying how you and Thibaud met" Guy prompted in an attempt to redirect the discussion to safer territory.

Thibaud returned and sat on the arm of Henri's chair, kissing him gently on the forehead. "Oh I love this story -- it's all about me."

"I was in Miami. Yes, I went all the way to the States to meet a Frenchman. I was visiting representatives from South America in Miami, people who were always late -- and that from a Frenchman. Nonetheless, my business was not concluded by the weekend, which in Miami begins on Thursday at noon and does not end until Monday evening over drinks. Such a life. It makes the French seem productive.

"In any case, I was stuck in Miami for the weekend. While the weather can be nice, when there is no hurricane, the food is execrable. Élas. What was I to do during those long hours? Well the weather was fine, hot but dry. I went to the beach. The hotel sent a young man to set up a beach chair and umbrella for me. He later brought drinks, but I am getting out of order.

"I was sitting quietly, enjoying the sun, sounds of the surf, and the very beautiful young men cruising along the beach. I was flattered by an occasional glance, which among that parade of pulchritude was flattery indeed.

"And then, there arose from the sea a vision. Botticelli's Venus had nothing on this Miami penis. Ahem. From out of the sea came a thing of beauty. Blonde, tan, lean, and bulging. His bathing attire left nothing to the imagination. I beheld a thing of glory.

"I do not know what hand of the gods guided his steps, but he came straight -- if you will forgive the term -- toward me. Still dripping of the sea -- though I admit I had begun to drip, too -- he knelt before me. My heart was pounding."

"See I told you it was a great story" Thibaud beamed.

"Yes, my heart was pounding. This gift of sea leant forward and kissed me. He then flopped onto the beach at my side and said..."

"Hey Daddy. Buy me a drink?" Thibaud contributed his original dialog.

"Imagine my consternation to hear the accent of my mother tongue. And yet, how perfect. I had an Americanized Frenchman at my feet, beautiful and so very sexual. All the wildness of the New World packaged with, while not a very sophisticated pedigree judging from his voice, at least someone who understood civilization."

"You flatter me, Henri."

"I do, which would be obvious from your next utterance."

"Wanna fuck?" Thibaud again spoke his part.

"What could I do but accept? He had already enraptured me with lust. When we emerged from the hotel room days later, he had captured my heart as well. It took him a little longer to declare his love. But once he had visited my townhouse in Paris and our little country villa here" he gestured at the lavish setting "my love was returned. Of course he still feels free to share it with the rest of France and any passersby..."