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Beau gives me a hidden thumbs-up. He coached me the whole way here on how to tone down what he calls my Intimidating Detective Inspector Interrogation Technique.

Gloria sips her tea as she considers my request. “It’s not a good memory. I still have nightmares from time to time.”

Beau leans forward, the picture of earnest concern. “Of course. It’s amazing you survived such a tragic event.”

Gloria shares a sad smile. “I had survivor’s guilt for a long time.”

“You don’t have to share anything you’re not comfortable with,” Beau reassures her.

“It’s okay. Some of my friends died in that fire and their memory deserves to go on. It sounds like your podcast might help with that.”

“I’ll certainly try to do them justice,” Beau confirms.

Prior to coming, we’d agreed to add an element to our cover story for her—namely remembering the lives lost in the fire at this nightclub that was frequented by members of the LGBTQ+ community at the time.

Gloria sets down her cup and gazes out the window. “I was barely eighteen and a bit wild. I’d snuck out of the house to meet some friends at the club.” She smiles in recollection. “Things started off great. We danced for hours, living it up in the way you only can when you’re young. God, how I miss that. Menopause is a real bitch, pardon my French.”

“My mama tells me the same thing.” Beau’s look of understanding makes Gloria relax even more.

Damn it, but he’s good at this. He’s got a way with people that I can’t match.

Gloria continues. “After closing, I stuck around with some of the regulars. Archie and I went to school together, so he’d invited me. I was one of the only people he’d told that he was gay. He knew I’d never spill his secret. His parents weren’t bad people but in those days I don’t know if they would have accepted that part of him. Not easily, anyway. So Archie went to the Vault a lot, especially once he found some other gay guys to be friends with. The bartender and Jonathan. I can’t remember his last name.”

“From what we’ve found, the bartender was named Peter.”

Gloria’s eyes spark with recognition. “That’s right. He was a bit older and acted a lot like a mentor to the younger guys.”

“Did you go with Archie to the club often?”

She shakes her head. “I’d only been a handful of times.” She winces. “It wasn’t easy for me to give my parents the slip when I was living at home, especially after I’d gotten in trouble a few times. Anyway, the night of the fire, we all went down into the basement after closing. Turned out the bartender, Peter, had a sort of side business going on, selling dope every so often to whoever stuck around and providing a place after hours where some of the gay guys could be more themselves and not worry about gay bashing. Anyone who wanted to go down to the basement got the bartender’s warning about not being an arsehole and if they misbehaved, they got the boot.”

Beau nods in commiseration. “He sounds like he was looking out for those kids. I can only imagine how hard it was back then. The elder gays lived through so much.”

She smiles gently at him. “That they did.”

“What happened once you were in the basement?” I ask, trying to steer the conversation back on track.

“We played some cards and drank, mostly. Peter started rolling joints and handing them out. I’ve had asthma since I was a kid, and after spending hours in a smoky club, I couldn’t handle more in a basement with no airflow, so I made my excuses and left.” She frowns. “I’d had a fair amount to drink that night, and by the time I made it back up to the ground floor, I was a little out of it. I didn’t notice anything was wrong at first and didn’t register the smoke until I started coughing. I couldn’t tell where I was and then I kind of panicked. That’s when two more people came up from downstairs. They figured out we were in danger faster than I did and made a mad dash for the exit. I tried following them but fell down. I think I tripped over something in the dark.” Tears fill her eyes. “Looking back, I should have done something to warn the people still downstairs. But I could barely focus, the panic was so bad. All I could think about was getting out. My asthma was going full throttle and I honestly wasn’t sure I was going to make it out alive.” She swallows hard. “Right when I thought I was a goner, a young lad appeared out of nowhere and helped me out of the building. It was a bloody miracle.”

I lean forward in my seat. “What? Did you know him?”

She shakes her head. “He was a few years younger than me though.”

Beau and I share a loaded look. Big Mike’s recollection about Owen hanging about outside the club that night is starting to sound more and more important.

“Could you tell us what happened once he got you outside?” I say.

“I’d never been so grateful in my entire life. Realized just how lucky I’d been.” Her expression turns pained. “But I also realized that not everyone was going to make it out alive. The fire was terrifying, even from a safe distance. The fire brigade hadn’t arrived yet and I was suffering from smoke inhalation so I couldn’t really speak much. But I managed to tell the boy who saved me that there were others still inside.” She shakes her head. “He ran back inside before I could stop him.”

“What?” Beau asks with alarm.

“I know. It was foolhardy of him, but brave. I don’t think I could have done it.”

“Did you see him again?” I ask.

She thinks for a moment. “No. By the time the fire brigade arrived, I was barely conscious. That time’s kind of a blank for me. Later, the newspapers reported who was found, and the only names I saw were of those people I’d been with in the basement, Archie and his friends.”

I look at Beau, whose eyes widen in understanding and he mouths, Owen?