Requiem for Mr. Busybody

By Josh Lanyon

“Maybe you’ll be next, Mr. Busybody!”

From well-respected investigative journalist to resident busybody.

When former crime reporter Michael’s elderly friend Maurice suddenly disappears, he fears the worst. But Michael is unable to investigate, and no one is taking his suspicions seriously—least of all Nico, Maurice’s too slick, too smooth, possibly guilty boyfriend.

The only person Michael can think of who might listen is Leonard Drake, now a Lieutenant Detective with NYPD.

In fact, this excuse to contact his ex might just be what Michael has been waiting three years for.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Josh Lanyon
• Release date: Oct 29, 2020
• ISBN: 9781649310101

Josh Lanyon

Author of nearly ninety titles of classic Male/Male fiction featuring twisty mystery, kickass adventure, and unapologetic man-on-man romance, JOSH LANYON’S work has been translated into eleven languages. Her FBI thriller Fair Game was the first Male/Male title to be published by Harlequin Mondadori, then the largest romance publisher in Italy. Stranger on the Shore (Harper Collins Italia) was the first M/M title to be published in print. In 2016 Fatal Shadows placed #5 in Japan’s annual Boy Love novel list (the first and only title by a foreign author to place on the list). The Adrien English series was awarded the All-Time Favorite Couple by the Goodreads M/M Romance Group. In 2019, Fatal Shadows became the first LGBTQ mobile game created by Moments: Choose Your Story.She is an EPIC Award winner, a four-time Lambda Literary Award finalist (twice for Gay Mystery), an Edgar nominee, and the first ever recipient of the Goodreads All-Time Favorite M/M Author award.Find other Josh Lanyon titles at www.joshlanyon.comFollow Josh on Twitter, Facebook, and Goodreads.

Book preview

Maybe you’ll be next, Mr. Busybody!

From well-respected investigative journalist to resident busybody.

When former crime reporter Michael’s elderly friend Maurice suddenly disappears, he fears the worst. But Michael is unable to investigate, and no one is taking his suspicions seriously—least of all Nico, Maurice’s too slick, too smooth, possibly guilty boyfriend.

The only person Michael can think of who might listen is Leonard Drake, now a Lieutenant Detective with NYPD.

In fact, this excuse to contact his ex might just be what Michael has been waiting three years for.

To my patrons—in particular Natascha, Brenda V., Helen, and TJ—for giving me a push in the right direction.

April is the cruelest month, breeding

Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing

Memory and desire, stirring

Dull roots with spring rain.

The Waste Land, T.S. Eliot

Requiem for Mr. Busybody

Josh Lanyon

The phone at the other end rang long enough that I started to count, and then it clattered off the hook and a deep, pleasant voice said, Drake. Homicide.

Never one to waste words, NYPD Lt. Detective Leonard Drake.

Given that we hadn’t spoken in three years, I was caught off guard by how familiar his voice was. The warm rush of memories? Equally unexpected.

I released the breath I’d been holding. Hey, I said cheerfully. Your misspent youth is calling.

A couple of very long seconds ticked by before Len said slowly, Michael Woolrich. There’s a blast from the past.

Not that I expected confetti and kazoos, but that total lack of emotion was hard to read.

To what do I owe this honor? Len added.

I don’t know about honor, but I might have a murder for you.

Maybe I imagined the creak of a chair in the background, but Len’s voice was definitely more cordial, more relaxed as he replied, Do tell.

Murder was what had first brought us together. Our mutual raison d’être. Murder had been the only thing we had in common, as it turned out. That’s what I told myself, anyway.

The victim—possible victim—is Maurice Moreau. He went missing—appears to have gone missing—four nights ago. I think his partner killed him.

And you know Maurice how?

He’s a friend. I corrected, He’s a neighbor I’m friendly with.

Len repeated thoughtfully, A neighbor you’re friendly with.

Yes.

Where are you living now?

The Fontainebleau in Chelsea.

Swanky.

I laughed. Maybe once. Maybe in the forties. But yeah, great atmosphere if you don’t mind a few ghosts.

And you think your friendly neighbor Maurice has now joined the celestial choir?

I felt myself smiling at Len’s turn of phrase. You don’t expect metaphors from a cop, at least not outside Chandler, but Len was not your ordinary cop. For one thing, he was no-bones-about-it gay, and while yes, every police force in the country is trying to be—or appear that they’re trying to be—more diverse and less discriminatory, in my experience, openly gay officers are still a rarity.

I’m afraid so. Yes.

Maybe he’s on vacation, Len suggested. Maybe he’s visiting relatives. Maybe he and the boyfriend are on a second honeymoon. What makes you think Maurice is dead?

I didn’t really want to go into the Rear Window aspect, didn’t want Len to know how much time I spent observing my neighbors, didn’t want him to think I was developing voyeuristic tendencies in my old age. Although, Talese was right—all journalists are voyeurs at heart.

I said, Partly because of the way Nico, Maurice’s partner, is behaving. Partly because Maurice once said if anything ever happened to him, look no further than Nico.

Silence.

Len said in his slow, considering way, That’s quite a revelation from someone you describe as a neighbor rather than a friend.

I know. And he was joking—mostly—when he said it. But…

But now that Maurice has ‘disappeared,’ you think maybe he was serious. You said something about the way Nico is acting. How is Nico acting?

Evasive, in my opinion. Also dismissive, patronizing, bored, annoyed—but that was Nico’s usual attitude toward me, so I didn’t place undue importance on it.

Len’s tone remained neutral as he suggested, Maybe Nico feels that Maurice’s whereabouts are none of your business.

Maybe.

I waited. If Len was the Len I remembered… But three years is a long time. Len didn’t owe me any favors. And no one knew better than me how far-fetched my story sounded.

Len said finally, I’ll be blunt. This is so thin, it’s transparent. Anyone but you, Michael, I’d be tempted to tell you to butt out of other people’s relationships.

I winced, opened my mouth, but Len wasn’t finished. "You always had a nose for trouble, so unless you’ve changed a