Beneath the Bleeding

adventure. Probably right up Danny Wade’s street.

Paula smiled at the barman, who looked as if he’d be more at home in a Spanish karaoke bar than here. ‘What can I get you?’ he said in an accent that matched her preconception.

God, how weary she got of soft drinks when she was working. ‘Orange juice and lemonade, please, she said. As he prepared her drink, Paula pulled out the bundle of photos. There was no point beating about the bush in here. Nobody was going to become her friend. Not the Spanish barman, not the Nick Faldo clones, not the cosy couples. She had her ID ready when the drink was placed in front of her, precisely centred on the beermat. ‘Thanks. I’m a police officer.’

The barman looked bored. ‘It’s on the house,’ he said.

‘Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll pay for it.’

‘Up to you.’ He took the money and brought her change back. The Pringle twins were openly staring at her.

‘I’m investigating the death of Danny Wade. He lived up the road?’

‘He the one who got poisoned?’ The barman’s interest was barely awakened.

‘That’s what happens when you use cheap foreign labour,’ the Pringle nearest her said. He was either incredibly stupid, incredibly insensitive or incredibly offensive. Paula couldn’t be sure which. She’d have to wait for his next utterance to be sure.

‘Mr Wade was poisoned, yes,’ she said coolly.

‘I thought that was all sorted out,’ the other Pringle said. The housekeeper made a tragic mistake, isn’t that what happened?’

‘We just need to clear up one or two details,’ Paula said.

‘Bloody hell, are you saying she did it on purpose?’ Pringle One said, turning round properly and giving her an avid look.

‘Did you know Mr Wade, sir?’ she said.

‘Knew him to speak to.’ He turned to his friend. ‘We knew him to say hello, didn’t we, Geoff?’

Geoff nodded. ‘Just to chat at the bar, you know. He had a lovely pair of Lakeland Terriers, very well-behaved dogs. In the summer, he’d bring them down with him and sit out in the beer garden. What happened to the dogs? Carlos, do you know what happened to the dogs?’ He looked at the barman expectantly.

‘I have no idea.’ Carlos carried on polishing glasses.

‘Was he always on his own?’ Paula asked. ‘Or did he come in with friends.’

Pringle One snorted. ‘Friends? Do me a favour.’

‘I was told that he ran into an old school friend in here recently. You don’t remember that?’

‘I remember,’ said Carlos. ‘You two know the guy. He came in a few times on his own, then one night Danny came in and he recognized him, this other guy. They had a couple of drinks together over by the fire.’ He pointed across the room. ‘Vodka and Coke, that’s what he drank.’

‘Do you remember anything else about him?’ Paula asked, deliberately casual. Never make them think it’s important; then they want to please you, so their imagination fills in the blanks.

The Pringles shook their heads. ‘He always had a book with him,’ Carlos said. ‘A big book, not like usual.’ With his hands, he described something about eight inches by ten. ‘With pictures. Flowers, gardens I think.’

‘Not enough to do with your time, that’s your trouble,’ Pringle One pronounced.

Paula spread the pictures across the bar. ‘Do you see him here?’

All three crowded round. Geoff shook his head dubiously. ‘Could be any one of these,’ he said, pointing to three dark-haired, blue-eyed men with thin faces.

The barman frowned, picking up a couple of the pictures to study them more closely. ‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘Is not them. Is this one.’ He put his index finger on a fourth shot and pushed it towards Paula. This image had dark hair and blue eyes. His face was long, like the other three, but much broader across the eyes, narrowing to a blunt chin. ‘His hair is shorter now, combed to the side. But it’s him.’

Geoff stared at the chosen photo. ‘I wouldn’t have picked that one, but now I look at it…you could be right.’

‘I spend all my time looking at faces, matching them to drinks,’ Carlos said. ‘I’m pretty sure this is him.’

‘Thank you. That’s very helpful. Did you happen to hear any of their conversation?’ Paula asked, gathering the photos together with the identified shot on top.

‘No,’ Carlos said. ‘My English is not good enough for this kind of talk.’ He spread his hands in so foreign a gesture that Paula instinctively knew he was lying. All I do is take orders for drinks and food.’

Yeah, right. She’d be talking to him again, she suspected. ‘Never mind,’ she said, her smile reassuring. ‘You’ve been very helpful. I might have to come back and talk to you again, Carlos.’ She produced her notebook. ‘Maybe you could write down your full name and contact details?’

While he wrote, she turned her attention back to the Pringles. ‘Have you seen that bloke in here again, after the night he met up with Danny?’

They exchanged glances. Geoff shook his head. ‘Haven’t seen hide nor hair of him, have we?’

As if he’d accomplished his mission and didn’t have to come back. Paula gathered up her notebook and made her escape. Back at the car, she stared at the photo Carlos had identified. Number 14. According to Stacey’s key, this was Jack Anderson. He hadn’t sent in his own photo. He’d been one of a group of three in someone else’s picture. But he’d been to Harriestown High, and he’d overlapped with Robbie Bishop.