“No, we didn’t,” said Kate, exchanging a glance with Tristan.
“David was badly into drugs and putting himself in dangerous situations. It was all very intoxicating to him, to suddenly be adored by these older guys on the gay scene. Some of them would buy him gifts, and he’d jump into relationships, move in with them, only for it to go pear shaped, and he was knocking on my door, or back at the commune. There was this older man called Sidney Newett.”
“How much older?” asked Kate.
“Must have been early fifties. David went back to his house one night, and they were partying. Sidney Newett’s wife was away on holiday with the Women’s Institute. David found Sidney dead in the back garden the next morning, panicked, and ran, but he left his wallet behind, and a neighbor saw him. The police eventually dropped the charges when they discovered Sidney died of a heart attack. It sent David off into a deeper depression. There were always parties at the commune, so it wasn’t the best place for him to be.”
“Are you in contact with anyone who lived at the commune?” asked Kate.
“Blimey, that’s a good question. It was eighteen years ago. So many of the guys went by nicknames. Elsie and Vera and Liza . . .” Shelley chuckled. “They were a nice bunch, so different to the guys I’d known from my childhood. My father and my uncle were very touchy-feely, let me just say. It was nice to be in an environment where no one was interested in me that way. It was all run by an older guy, well, I say older—he was probably only thirty back when we were sixteen. Max Jesper. He’d been at the commune for the longest time, and he ran things. It was an old Georgian townhouse that had been empty for years. He became a squatter there in the early 1980s.”
“Did you have to pay anything to stay there?” asked Tristan.
“There was a kitty, a big bowl which everyone had to contribute to. If you were working, you had to put in half of what you earned. If you didn’t work, Max encouraged you to sign on at the Jobcentre, and you had to contribute half of what you got. No one ever had much money. And, of course, the guys would have to spend a night with Max to secure their room.”
“Sounds sleazy,” said Tristan.
“Oh, Max was. Luckily all I had to do was make him bread a couple of times a week, and I was earning and contributing the most. Max wasn’t a bad-looking guy, but he’d often invite his mates over when a new lad wanted to move in . . .”
Shelley saw the look that passed between Kate and Tristan.
“I know, it sounds horrible, and it was, but so many young guys were coming from places far worse. And for me, it was such freedom.”
“What happened to the commune?” asked Tristan.
“Max went to court to claim squatter’s rights on the building, and he won. He became the legal owner of this huge old house. It was in the local paper.”
“Can you remember when this was?” asked Kate.
“I don’t know, four or five years ago. It’s on the other side of Exeter, close to the new industrial estate they’re building.”
“When did you know that David had gone missing?” asked Tristan.
“Our birthday was on the same day, June fourteenth. I was living with Kev. We were having a party, and I’d invited David. He didn’t show up. I wasn’t too worried. As a rule, he was all over the place, but when I didn’t hear from him for a week, that’s when I got concerned. I went around to see the guy he’d been living with, Pierre, and Pierre said that he and David had split up ten days previously and David had moved out. I then asked around at the pubs in the area, and I went to the commune, but no one knew where he’d gone.”
“How long had he been living with Pierre?”
“I can’t remember, exactly. A few weeks, maybe.”
“Do you have contact details for Pierre?”
“No. He died two years later of a drug overdose,” said Shelley.
“Did David ever say that he’d been involved with anyone high profile, any politicians?”
Shelley considered the question.
“No. He was quite the blabbermouth. He would have been very proud of that.”
“Could you give us the names of some of the gay pubs that David used to go to?”
“Yes, but I don’t know how many of them are still open.”
Shelley pulled out a piece of paper and had a think, then started to write. There was a long silence. Kate and Tristan looked to each other and didn’t have any more questions.