Rentboy

Fox’s father who it seems is in Uganda
    himself at present. They want the compound as a bioweapon.”
    “And Dr. Atherton? Where is he?”
    “He told Fox he was going to join his parents in Paris, but Fox thinks he has gone to their family
    farm. I’ve no idea where that is.”
    At a nod from Mr. Conran, the young man taking notes left the room.
    Godfrey refilled his cup and took a long slurp of tea. “Thirsty work, all this regaling of tales.”
    He smiled, realizing as he did so how automatic it was. A grieving widow required an understanding
    smile. An unhappy husband needed a sympathetic smile. A parishioner with cancer was treated to a
    cajoling but understanding smile, a you can beat this, and I’ll help you kind of smile. Right now he
    was just smiling like an idiot because he was certain they would call the police and have him taken
    off in a straitjacket.
    “Would you like more biscuits, vicar?” Conran asked.
    “Oh dear me, I finished the whole plate. No. Better not, but thank you.”
    “So you feed the poor?” The man was making conversation now while they checked him out to
    see if he had been sectioned recently. “That’s very Christian of you.”
    “Yes, well, I am a vicar. I run a free tea and sandwich wagon. As I mentioned, that was how I
    met Fox, but he refused the sandwich because he’s vegan. I serve whatever I can get donated, and it’s
    usually Spam or cheese.”
    “Where do you locate your van?”
    “I drive it to the poorer areas and park for an hour or two, then move on. I was outside St.
    Pancras when I met Fox.”
    The young man returned and whispered to Mr. Conran, who then said, “A Dr. Edward Atherton
    crossed into France today with his wife. But it appears to be the father. The younger Dr. Atherton has
    not left the country. We are watching the Chunnel and the ferries for him as we speak. And Fox,
    where is he?”
    “He went off to find Eddie, as he calls him. They could both be in danger now. You do believe
    me, don’t you?”
    “Yes. And we appreciate you coming in and waiting all this time. I’ll have someone drive you
    home now. You must wait there. If Afton Baillie or Dr. Atherton contacts you, you must get in touch at
    once.” He handed Godfrey a card and rose to indicate that he wanted him to leave now. Beckoning a
    young man, Conran said, “Take the reverend home.” He extended a hand.
    Godfrey shook it firmly but hung on to it when he said, “You will find them and keep them safe?”
    “Don’t worry. They’ll be looked after.”
    Feeling somewhat reassured by Mr. Conran, Godfrey followed the young man back through the
    maze of corridors and out onto the street. It was wonderfully cool out. The shining pavements and
    puddles attested that it had been raining for some time, but in the windowless concrete bunker he’d
    had no idea.
    “NICE MAN,” STEPHEN Conran said to his colleague. “It took courage to bring this story to
    us, and thank goodness he did. Maputwa has been a concern for the last five years. Every bid for
    election has ended in failure for him, so now he’s resorting to terrorizing his way into government. He
    needs to be removed…permanently.”
    “First we need to find Dr. Atherton and his bf,” Rosemary Crane said.
    “Bf?” Conran squinted at her.
    “Teenage abbreviation for boyfriend. My daughter says it all the time, that and OMG, which
    means ‘oh my God.’”
    “Ahh.” Conran nodded. It would be a few years before his three children were teenagers, but
    soon enough. He dreaded the thought of little Annabelle bringing boys home. The phone on the table
    rang, and he pressed it to his ear. “Not there? Stand by.”
    “No sign of Afton Baillie or the bf at Great Russell Street or at the Baillie house in Finchley.
    Where do the Atherton parents live?”
    Conran stood behind Rosemary while she put a password in the computer, which took her
    directly into the database of the Metropolitan Police Service. She searched the name Atherton in the
    vehicle license files. “Cowbell Lane, Mitton Village. It’s about two hours away.”
    Conran bit his lower lip. “Bet he’s there. When people are afraid, they always return to a place
    where they feel safe.” He picked up the phone again, punched in a number, and began to give
    instructions.
    Chapter Fifteen
    The first lift Fox got was from a middle-aged woman who spent the whole time admiring his
    clothes and telling him how much she loved gays. She said she wished her son