“At around seven, we got ready and headed across town to the restaurant. We parked at the end of the road in a car park and walked a short distance. The place was quite small. It was called the Greek Tavern or something like that.”
“Yes, I know the place. The Greek Taverna. Please go on.”
“Anyway, Peter had booked us a table. I've worked in a few restaurants and this was a nice place, very friendly with a family atmosphere. I remember thinking the food should be good. When you’re a waiter you can just tell. Peter ordered us both the six-course meal and some wine. I left it all to him. He seemed so sophisticated and liked to be in control. I just went along. As I thought, the food turned out to be really good.
“Anyway, as he had promised, when we were about half way through the meal he started telling me about the three paintings he had bought from his various appointments. He said one of them was extremely valuable but the owner didn't know what it was worth so he had got it for a really low price. I was a bit taken back. He had seemed so straightforward and honest before but he said if someone didn't know its true value that wasn't his fault. And if he hadn't bought it they might have sold it to a local dealer and it could have ended up on someone's wall without them knowing how valuable it was.
“He told me there are thousands of works of art just sitting on walls or tucked away where the painting is probably worth more than the house. He started to boast and tell me about all the items he had purchased where the owners didn't realise the true value and how he paid them a pittance of what they were worth. He had had a few drinks by then so I'm not sure if all of what he was telling me was true or just the drink talking. To be honest I was a bit worried about him driving us back to the hotel.
“Anyway, we had the meal and then a dessert and coffee, by which time he seemed to have sobered up a bit. We went back to the hotel. Luckily he drove slowly and we got back okay. But he was too far gone to do anything and we both just went to sleep.
“The next morning, I got up at eight as usual but Peter stayed in bed until around nine and then he got up and we went down for breakfast. It must have been close to ten when we finished. I know we were the last ones in the dining room. I could see the waitress hovering round but Peter didn't hurry.
“We went up to our room. It was a lovely morning so we had planned to take a walk around the botanical gardens. I was changing my shirt and there was a loud knock at the door. Peter answered it and this guy just barged in. I didn't have a clue who he was. When I asked him he said he was Peter's partner and that they had been living together for six years. I was truly shocked. He and Peter argued. He called Peter a lying cheating bastard and then started to cry and left. Peter went after him.
“My last partner cheated on me and it wasn’t a nice experience. I vowed I’d never do such a thing to anyone else. So I called down to reception and asked them to book me a taxi to the rail station. Then I packed my things and went downstairs and waited near the door until the taxi arrived. That's all I can tell you. I don't think I've left anything out.”
“Can you tell me the time of the train you caught?”
Yes. It was the one o'clock. I’ve still got the ticket if you want to see it?”
“The three paintings you mention that Peter bought. I have to ask you this, but when you left did you take one of them? We’ve found two. However, the valuable one is missing.
“No. It was still on the easel in the corner of the room. I wouldn’t do such a thing. Look around you, where would I hide it? No, I swear I didn’t take it.
“That’s okay. I believe you but I had to ask. I hope you understand? Thank you, Mr Varney, for what you have given us. I appreciate you going into so much detail. One very last thing. Can you recall anything unusual that happened? Did Peter meet anyone or did you see or hear anything suspicious? Was there anyone hanging around or acting odd apart from the man who confronted you in your room?”
“Not that I can think … wait a minute. There were three men at a nearby table in the restaurant. As I said I've worked in restaurants and you get a nose for people who aren't quite what they appear to be. I did notice one of them listening to what Peter was saying but pretending not to. Then he went outside and I think he made a phone call. Experienced waiters see and hear a lot more than people realise. We're trying to work out who will leave us a big tip if we treat them right. It could be nothing but as I said, you get a nose for those kinds of things.”
“If we showed you some photos do you think you’d recognise the man in the restaurant?”
“Yes, I’m sure of it. He was a bit rough looking. I wouldn’t want to meet him down a dark alley, if you catch my drift?”
“That's really helpful, Oliver. Well done for remembering that. It's the small things people don't think matter that can actually turn out to be the most
