Chapter Nine 

Two weeks after his release from hospital, Philips dropped in to see Harper at his office. His passage through the building caused quite a stir, and Inspector Martin would have given his eyeteeth to have been a fly on the wall in Harper's room. In fact their conversation had nothing to do with Toni Gordon's murder at all, and nobody broke down and made a confession. 

"I've finished the novel Bill, what with all that time in bed. I was wondering if you could come over to my place this evening and read it through for me ... if you're free?" 

"Well, I have got some paperwork to finish, I couldn't get there until about ten," hesitated the detective. 

"You can always spend the night with me if it gets too late," Philips suggested unthinkingly. He could have bitten his tongue out. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded," he said quickly. He paused awkwardly. "If you still ... uh, feel the same about me, I..."  

"Don't worry about that," Harper put in sharply. "That's all finished; I've got over it now." 

"Oh," Philips felt absurdly bereft. "You'll come then?" 

"Yes. Yes I will. Around ten." 

"Fine. I'll see you then." 

Immediately, once Philips was gone, Harper was assailed by doubts. Was he being unnecessarily stupid, facing up to temptation like that? Wouldn't it have been safer to say, "I'm sorry Richard but I better not come, I can't trust myself alone with you?" No; of course not. He would go and he would control himself and he wouldn't touch Philips. He was still telling himself that when Philips opened the door to him. 

The writer had sorted out the relevant sections of the novel earlier on and gave them to Harper to read. Harper sat on the sofa and got started while Philips poured them both a drink. The writer listened intently to Harper's precise comments, noting them down on a piece of foolscap. 

"I had a visit from Inspector Martin in hospital," said Philips when the last page and been finished and they had poured themselves another drink. 

Harper looked up curiously. "Yes?" 

"He told me that the police were withdrawing the charges against me for the present, but not to leave town without permission. I must admit that was a huge relief. I gather some additional evidence has surfaced which gives me the benefit of the doubt, something about fingerprints. But you better be careful, Bill. I think you may have taken my place on the suspect list. He kept slipping in questions about you. How well did you know Toni, and had I ever seen you together? Then he wanted to know if I could describe my attacker a bit better. Was he taller than me? And so on ... Half my answers were 'no' and the rest were 'no comments'. 

"He wanted to know why I had blanks in the gun, of course, so I told him I'd just wanted to use it to threaten you and that started him off on a whole series of questions about what we'd both meant by our final conversation. So I did what you did, I told him it was personal and nothing to do with the case. None of that made him happy, but he had to let it go in the end." He smiled maliciously in remembrance of the Inspector's frustration. After all, Martin had been one of the men who had shot him. 

"Poor Jack," commiserated Harper insincerely. "He's having a hard time with us isn't he? So much suspicion, but not enough evidence." 

Philips yawned, "I'm turning in for the night Bill. Will you be alright on the couch? I'll get some blankets for you." 

Harper felt as if his stomach was dissolving, along with his precarious sense of control. "Yeah, it'll be fine," he managed. He cursed himself violently, there was still time to go home. This was an act of purest insanity. As he was hesitating, Philips brought out the blankets and a pillow and then went into the bathroom to get ready for bed. Biting his top lip, Harper hastily made up the couch and took off his shirt and trousers, waiting for his turn in the bathroom. Then he made the mistake of looking up. 

Richard had left the bathroom door ajar and he could see him clearly, undressing down to his boxers with his back to him. His eyes followed every muscle of Philips' brown back ... his broad shoulders with their smooth blades ... Harper's tongue longed to slide down the hollow of his spine; his hands pleaded to stroke every inch of his body. He stepped forward. Richard looked up and met his eyes in the mirror, and froze. Harper took another step forward. Richard turned to face him and realised the bathroom door had not latched behind him when he had gone in, swinging open instead. 

"I am so sorry, Bill," the words rasped in Philips' throat. "That was an accident. You know I didn't mean to leave that door open on purpose?" 

Harper swallowed. "I knew that," he lied. He was trembling, he couldn't seem to move his feet. His gaze was locked on Richard's bare chest as if mesmerised. "Shut the damned door!" he managed. "If you don't want me in there in one second, then you need to shut that door." 

Philips slammed the door shut and Harper stood there trying to get himself back under control. He was rock hard. For one scalding hot minute he had thought Richard was giving him the green light. What a complete idiot. He should go home ...yeah, he should definitely go home. He looked at the clock. It was after one am. That meant calling a taxi. God, he was so tired. Perhaps he'd just wait until Richard came out of the bathroom and when he was safely in bed, alone, with the door shut, he'd go and have a shower ... a long one. Relieve some of that tension. Providing, of course, that Richard didn't come out and ask him to leave immediately. 

Philips was still standing in the bathroom, looking blankly at the door. He couldn't believe he had left the door open and then stripped in front of Harper. He must think him a real prickteaser. Well, he thought, I can't stay in here all night. He made himself open the door. He looked out and saw Harper in the kitchen getting a drink of water, clad only in his black briefs. The detective heard the door opening and turned towards him. 

"Sorry about that!" he said tightly. 

Philips couldn't believe it, but Harper actually looked ashamed. As if he was to blame! Philips stopped thinking and just reacted. He walked straight up to Harper and put his arms around him, "No, I'm sorry. It was my fault." 

Harper froze, staring at him in disbelief. "What are you doing Richard?" 

Was he going to do it? He had about two seconds to change his mind. "I'm asking you if you want to sleep with me tonight." He heard the words come out of his mouth before he even realised he had made a decision. 

Harper pulled Richard tightly against his body, letting him feel the full reality of his arousal. "Are you absolutely sure about this?" Harper's stunned gaze searched the other man's eyes, he thought he had stopped breathing. "You're not going to hate me afterwards?" 

"I'm sure," Philips gambled. 

"Then let's do it."  

Harper had him in the bedroom almost before he could take another breath. Philips had not had a very clear idea about what would happen next, but he had expected a little more ... preparation. Instead, he found himself face down on the bed and covered by Harper's hard, well-muscled body with Bill's hand reaching around to hold him. Too soon, Harper was inside him, thrusting hard. He was half turned on, half terrified. 

When it was over, Harper kissed him lightly on the lips and rolled off him. "You're gorgeous Richard." Harper looked as if he wanted to gather him into his arms, but didn't - almost as if he was afraid to. 

Philips lay open-eyed most of the night, feeling cold. 

He was drinking coffee heavy eyed in the kitchen when Harper found him next morning. Harper felt his heart sink at the look in his friend's eyes. He wanted to hug him and comfort him but instead pretended impatience. "Come on Richard, it's not the end of the world." 

Philips forced a miserable smile, but Harper caught a hint of accusation in his eyes. He continued hurriedly, "You asked me, remember?" Philips knew he had started it. Harper spoke more gently, "What's the matter then? Did I hurt you too much?" Philips blushed and shook his head. 

"Didn't you like it?" Philips flushed even darker but didn't answer. The trouble was that he had - sort of. He just wanted ... he didn't know. "Well then?"  

He looked uncomfortably at the other man. Harper's face was open and friendly, but slightly puzzled. Didn't he have any second thoughts about what they'd done? Philips squirmed before the other's steady gaze. Apparently not. 

"I have to go to work. I'll see you tomorrow night at Peter's?" Harper asked as he walked to the door. Philips nodded, still miserably silent, and the other man went out biting his lip.