Dan nodded. “You’ll be meeting a lot of new people soon and your life’s going to change in many ways. Have you thought about where you want to go to study?”
Ked looked out the window. “I want to stay here. There are programs at York and U of T. I’ll probably get in one or the other of them.”
“Is that where you want to go?”
Ked turned back to his father. “Sure. Why not?”
“Those are both good universities. But are they the best for you? If it’s a matter of cost, your mother and I are willing to help you make up whatever you don’t have the funds for.”
Ked looked indifferent. “I just thought it was better for you if I stayed in Toronto.”
“For me? Don’t do that.”
His son’s eyes expressed surprise. Not the pleasant kind.
“But —”
Dan cut him off. “Don’t live your life to please me, Ked. Or your mother or anyone else. Live your life in the way you see best fit for your needs. It’s your future we’re talking about.”
“But I thought you would want me here.” He sounded disappointed.
“Don’t misunderstand me. If it suits your purpose, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’re going to school. Or longer, if you like. But don’t do it for me. That isn’t a sacrifice any son or daughter should ever have to make.”
“But I don’t want you to be alone.”
“That’s up to me. Besides, I’ve got Ralph. We’ve made peace in our old age.”
Dan smiled to himself. Parenting? What parenting? If asked about his fathering style, he would profess that he didn’t have one. When it comes to kids, Dan advised others, just love them as much as you can, teach them good manners and respect for others, then get out of the way and let them be. If it works, you can be thankful. If it doesn’t, it’s probably not your fault.
“Even Ralph won’t be here forever,” he added. “Everybody leaves home at some point.”
“I guess.” Ked still looked perplexed.
“Whatever happens, happens,” Dan said. “As we go through life, we learn to deal with whatever comes up. It’s not always good. People lose arms, breasts, get cancer, divorce. That’s life. You can’t prevent it.”
“I know that.”
“But what you may not know is how it feels.” He pointed to his head. “I know you understand it here.” His hand moved down to his heart. “But this is where it’s going to get you, if you’re not prepared. And no matter how much you dislike it, you can’t stop it from happening.”
Ked frowned as though his father had been lecturing him on his behaviour.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to sound like an old-fashioned parent. Next I’ll be telling you I’m saying all this for your own good.” Dan smiled wanly. “Which I am, of course.”
He stopped and checked an incoming text. It was from someone named Lionel, claiming to be an accountant and asking to meet as soon as possible. This, he presumed, was the other half of Donny’s “perfect couple.” There was a pub listed at the bottom of the text. He hadn’t even agreed to take the job. It was presumptuous, but that was how the rich operated.
He looked up at his son. “Think about what I’m saying, okay?”
“Okay.”
“If you want me to help you rank the different universities, I can do that, though you probably know them well enough by now.”
Ked smiled. “I do.”
“Good.” He paused. “There’s a dog over in the corner in need of a walk.”
“Yeah, yeah … I know.”
Dan glanced back at the text. He didn’t want to disappoint Donny, though that was a feeble excuse for accepting a job he didn’t want. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to be polite.
He typed a reply: I’m good for 7. Then for Donny’s sake he added: Looking forward to it.
Four
Accountable
Dan cast his gaze around the bar’s interior. Brass fittings, rough-hewn tables, hockey pennants on the walls. It wasn’t the sort of place he would expect an accountant to frequent, particularly a gay accountant, but it suited his purpose, which was simply to hear the man’s story, offer sympathy for his plight as he quaffed a single beer, then politely tell him to refer the case to the police. Due diligence done. His favour to Donny signed, sealed, and delivered. He’d offered to listen and listen he would. After that, it was out of his hands.
The man who came through the door was dressed in a bulky sweater over a track suit. Nicely muscled forearms and solid chest. Easy on the eyes. More athlete than accountant, Dan decided. Which went a long way toward explaining the casual sports pub atmosphere. He plunked himself down on the bench like a tennis player who had just played a particularly challenging round, winning both game and tournament.
“Hi, I’m Lionel.”
He smelled of cool things, minty and fresh. Dan could imagine running his hands through this man’s hair. Well, you can’t blame a guy for trying.
“Dan.”
They shook and a waiter took their orders.
“Good eye,” Dan said. “How did you spot me so quickly?”
“Charles described you well. I think he might say you’re somewhat of a ‘type.’”
“I’ve heard that before.”
Over in a corner, someone scored a goal on a wide-screen TV and the bar was pandemonium for a moment before settling back into its dull routine of drinking and watching.
Lionel’s eyes met Dan’s again. The gaze held.
“Thanks for meeting me.” Lionel blushed. “I wasn’t sure at first if it was a good idea. I didn’t want to involve you and compromise anything to do with your work principles, but Charles insisted I at least hear what you have to say. He seems to think we’re all on common ground. Charles isn’t the most trusting person, so when he said you were on the level, I took his word for it.”
Dan didn’t say that being given the thumbs-up by a lawyer wasn’t his measure of a vote of confidence.
“I understand a little about your predicament,” Dan said, “but maybe you could fill in a few gaps. Whatever you’re comfortable telling me. I know that some of the things you did for Yuri Malevski may have skirted the bounds of regular accounting practices. I won’t pry, but at least be assured you can be as frank with me as you choose.”
Lionel’s face showed relief. “Thanks. It makes it easier for me to talk to you just knowing that.”
Dan watched him. In that instant, the breezy athlete was gone and a slightly world-weary accountant with real-life human concerns took his place.
“Since the murder, the police have been snooping around Yuri’s accounts, both business and personal. I’ve been advised by Charles to be truthful in my responses without offering up information that might implicate me in anything questionable.”
“That’s a smart stance,” Dan agreed.
The waiter returned with two pints of beer. Dan took a long, satisfying swallow while the hockey game rumbled on overhead.
“At first it was very routine. They wanted to hear the message Yuri left asking to meet when I returned from Mexico. Luckily I still had it on my phone, so I played it for them. Then the questions started. How often did we meet and