11

4:32 PM January 14, 2010

Home of Victor Brant

It had taken a lot of digging, but Adam Ross had finally located Victor Brant's home address. Mac was still angry with Flack, but he felt the urge to protect him regardless. Besides, he told himself, this man was a person of interest in the case. Nonetheless, he went to confront him alone.

Mac knocked on the door, but did not announce himself as police. He waited, and the door opened. A very tall man stood at the threshold, waiting patiently for an explanation. He had pitch black hair, slightly wavy but cut short and styled neatly, and smooth, clear olive skin. He had classically handsome features, wrought with an undeniable sensuality, and deep, cool green eyes framed with long black lashes. Mac had the odd impression that he had seen him before, but could not place where.

"Victor Brant?"

"Yes."

"Detective Mac Taylor, I'm with the NYPD Crime Lab. I came here to-"

"Mac Taylor," Victor echoed, amused. He threw the door open. "So you're Mac Taylor. Well, come in, Mac Taylor. I don't think we should do this in the hall."

Mac frowned, but entered the apartment. Victor shut the door behind him. The apartment was small, clean, and overflowing with reading material. Mac saw that the much of the material concerned criminal psychology, the law, and law enforcement.

"I'm assuming Detective Flack told you about me?"

"He did," Victor said. "Can I get you anything? Coffee?"

"You know I didn't come here to chat, so cut the crap."

Victor crossed his arms, unaffected by the attitude. He sat on the arm of his sofa, watching Mac through narrowed eyes.

"It was Ragno, wasn't it?" Victor said knowingly. "He told you about me?"

"Yes, he did," Mac said. "He told me everything."

"The little weasel never did like me," Victor said. "I'm surprised that you would be so judgmental of a man with exotic tastes."

"And just what does that mean?"

"Don Junior did tell me about you, all about you," Victor said. "It must be nice to get away with abuse of power and sexual harassment at the same time."

"Not any nicer than hurting people for a living, though?"

"I didn't 'hurt' your detective," Victor said. "He came to me for a service, and I provided it."

"And then you took him home to provide more 'services'?"

"Yes."

"He could barely sit down today, you know."

Victor smiled. "Well, let's just say he got his money's worth. Again, I can't see you having any problem with this."

"I do have a problem with it," Mac said tersely. "I also have a problem with the fact that after all your years working at the Eden of Desires club, you finally bring a client home with you, and that client just happens to be a cop."

"You can't be serious," Victor snorted. "Are you honestly trying to connect me with the recent cop killings? That I would have something to do with D3-ATS?"

"We haven't yet confirmed that they were hate crimes, or that D3-ATS was involved," Mac said. "You're well-informed."

Victor said nothing.

"And we know that you are involved with D3-ATS," Mac went on. "You registered on their forum a month ago."

"I did, or someone used my name and information to."

"You deny that you were the one that signed up?"

"I'm not confirming or denying it," Victor said. "I will deny that I am anti-gay, and I will deny that I am a serial killer. Now why don't you confirm for me … that you're not here because of any case."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because you're here about Don," Victor said. "You aren't jealous per say, but you're used to looking after him. You take the responsibility of protecting a lot of people, don't you? The father figure type, always a classic."

"So is the self-loathing sexual sadist."

"I'm not self-loathing, I assure you," Victor said. "As for Donald Junior, don't worry about him. He's a big, capable boy, he can take care of himself."

"Obviously he can't, if he went home with you," Mac said. "Then again, you made sure his judgment was compromised, didn't you?"

"By the time I met him, he was already flying high, if you catch my meaning," Victor said. "Whatever other poor decisions he made last night, coming home with me wasn't one of them."

"And I'm just supposed to take your word for that?" Mac said. "A man whose real identity is still a mystery?"

Victor was silent.

"You use the name 'Victor Brant' at the Eden of Desires club, but that identity doesn't seem to have any other usage that we could find, or history of any kind prior to 2005," Mac said. "We are working on finding out who you really are, so don't expect to hide behind anonymity for much longer."

Victor did not react. His expression gave away nothing. People had remarked upon Mac's expert poker face, and seeing the same thing here, he hoped that his own expression did not make him look as soulless as Victor did.

"Who are you, Victor?" Mac asked. "What do you want from Detective Flack?"

"Don was an opportunity that I decided to take," Victor said. "I found him at the club reception desk, and he was obviously inebriated from alcohol and perhaps a narcotic. He was hassling Ragno, trying to set up an appointment with a male dom. I don't have to explain to you how attractive he is, I imagine?"

Mac's lips thinned into a tense line.

"Ragno warned Don Junior that I had a reputation for being rough, but he insisted on taking me up on my offer to get his appointment in before I left for the night," Victor recounted. He spoke with deliberation and care, the way a witness would when making a statement. "We took the elevator up to one of the fantasy rooms. I asked him what he wanted, but he only requested that I not tie him up."

Mac's expression hardened. So Don did recall Fraser's murder, and he even knew that he was putting himself in a high-risk situation. How could he be aware of that and still be so stupid?

"Donald Junior was nervous," Victor went on, an affectionate fondness creeping into his tone. "He was joking, being cynical, playing games. Not a man used to losing control of a situation. But games are only games. He came to the club to be punished, and so I punished him. Would you like the details of that?"

"That won't be necessary."

"I could tell that he was nervous, so I helped him undress, got him reasonably relaxed," Victor went on, regardless. "Contact is important with a new client. I put him over my knees. I have to admit, he got on my nerves."

"Why is that?"

"He laughed at me," Victor marveled. "Even thrown over my lap, he laughed at me, bold as brass. I couldn't believe it. So, I stopped going easy on him. I reminded him that he had come to me for a reason, that he must have done something to feel guilty. Between that and a leather paddle, he was finally subdued."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"The quickest way to avoid suspicion is to tell the truth. Don't you agree?"

"You sound like you've done this before."

"Once Don was thoroughly mastered," Victor went on, ignoring the remark, "he broke down a little. There are two kinds of subs: the kind that only gets aroused, and the kind that takes the discipline to heart and is chastened. Don is the latter. Now, I rarely get personally involved with comfort, but … I liked Don. I like him very much."

"And that was when he told you about his relationship with me?"

"He told me everything."

Mac tensed. "Everything?"

"Almost everything," Victor said. He noted Mac's reaction, eyes narrowing slightly. "I could tell he was holding something back, but he did tell me about all his recent losses: his sister, his lover, even his dog. Then, he told me that he thought he had found someone that he could have loved."

"He said that?"

"He said it," Victor said blandly. "You look pretty guilty yourself. So, it's true that you are taken. I had wondered whether Don had misinterpreted that or not. Good to know that he really is free."

"He isn't free for you."

"Yes, he is," Victor said. "I felt sorry for him when he told me. As unprofessional as it might have been, I didn't want to leave him alone that night. He was exhausted to the point of being dead on his feet, miserable and lonely. I offered to bring him home, and he agreed. I drove him here. He was tired, but up for a little more fun."

"You beat him again?"

"I spanked him a little, but it was just play by then," Victor said. "We had sex. He woke up late and wolfed down some breakfast. He rushed off to work. That's it."

"What time did he fall asleep last night?"

"Around three in the morning. By then, he was completely … spent."

"So, he wouldn't have woken up if you had left the apartment?"

The trace of emotion that had washed over Victor's face vanished instantly. His features were not hard, but entirely neutral. "I suppose not," he replied. "Why?"

"The second victim was murdered at four in the morning," Mac said. "He lived close enough to this area to give you time to leave Flack asleep and attack him."

"You're determined to link me to the case, aren't you?" Victor said, shaking his head. "Answer me this, Mac Taylor: if I had a homosexual cop in my own apartment, unconscious enough to let me have my way with him, why would I leave him, drive out to another apartment, break in, and kill someone else?"

"I don't know. Why would you?"

"I wouldn't."

"I think that you didn't dare make Don your next victim because you were seen together by Edmund Ragno," Mac said. "However, you brought him home to have one of the NYPD's best provide you with an alibi for the second murder. Then, you left him sleeping, and went to get rid of the next victim on your kill list."

"Kill list. Really."

"Really."

Victor smiled, getting to his feet. "I didn't have to tell you anything, Detective Taylor," he said. "Don was not on duty, he was not injured, he was not brought here without consent. You have absolutely no right to harass me about my relationship with him, professionally. Personally, I understand that you're his friend, and so I've done you the courtesy of volunteering information. But I won't stand here in my own home and be accused of being involved with this odious case. Therefor, I believe it's time for you to go now, Detective Taylor."

"You don't intend to stay away from him, do you?"

"Don? No, I don't."

The two men stared each other down. Mac did not like how difficult a time he was having reading Victor. While he was a man of science, he did normally have a knack for taking the measure of people. He could see nothing in Victor but hints of his personality, and he was not altogether certain that these flashes of humanity were not contrived. Was the fondness that stole into his voice at the mention of Flack an act? The only thing about Victor that Mac was certain of was that he was a hard case.

"Look, I can see how you could easily fit me into the profile of a monster," Victor said. "I admit that I am sadistic to some measure. I like to give men a taste of pain and humility. The feelings of control and power arouse me. But I have limits. If you're going to live a lifestyle like this, you have to know your limits, and be aware of how far they go."

"And just how far do your limits go?"

"Not as far as taking one of my employees unaware and beating them without their consent."

"You're telling me that your fantasies always involve consent?"

Victor licked his lips, smiled a little. "Do yours?" He leaned against the wall, looking Mac up and down. "This lifestyle is very much like the legal system, Detective: the rules have to be obeyed without question. I would no sooner lay a hand on someone without their consent than I would rape them. It's the same thing, you see. Which means that out of the two of us, you're the one that has already broken the rules."

Victor pushed off the wall with a foot. He walked up to Mac, looking down at him.

"You won't even acknowledge that you're also a sadist," Victor said. "Through all of this, you haven't once admitted that you know how it is. You won't even discuss what you did to Don four years ago. Doesn't that seem a bit 'self-loathing' to you?"

Mac felt a surge of anger. He did not trust himself to reply.

"Yes, Don told me what they call you," Victor said. "Don't Ask, Don't Tell Taylor. You have a military background. You've seduced two men that work with you. If this is a game of profiling, I would say yours is more akin to that of the D3-ATS killer."

"And you know a lot about profiling, do you?"

There was a flash of humor and something else (regret?) in Victor's eyes. Then, he moved past Mac, and opened the door. When he turned back to Mac, his face and eyes were as placid as ever.

"If that's everything, Detective Taylor?"

Mac stopped in front of him at the door. "You may not be willing to leave Don alone, but don't think that I'm willing to leave you alone, Mr. Brant- or whatever your name is."

"Investigate away, by all means."

"I will." Mac paused. "Maybe I already have."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I know you," Mac said. "I can't place you, but I could swear that I've seen you before."

"Let me know if you figure it out," Victor said. "Or tell Don. He'll be sure to mention it when I see him again, I'll bet."

Mac gave him one last scrutinizing look, and then walked out. The door shut behind him. Mac wasted no time in leaving the building. He felt a chill that had nothing to do with the season.