Part 5 (2/2)
Gemma knew exactly what she meant. Mismatched furniture, scuffed wooden floorboards, quirky lamps, but the windows and gla.s.sware sparkled, and the food was delicious. She bit into one of the homemade chips that had come with her chicken, cheddar, and smoked bacon club. ”I can see why Vincent Arnott liked to come here, but it seems a far cry from the Belvedere.”
”If a stone's throw.” Melody wiped a smear of tartar sauce from her lip with her pinky.
Gemma nodded, wondering if there were CCTV cameras with a good view of the pub. When they had a better idea of the time frame for Arnott's movements, she'd get the techies on it.
While they were waiting for their food, she'd checked in with DC MacNicols. Now, she glanced at her phone again, just in case she'd missed a message from Kincaid, but there was nothing.
”What were you going to do with your Sat.u.r.day?” she asked Melody.
”Help Doug paint his sitting room.”
”The great DIY project?” Gemma asked, bemused. ”How's that coming?”
”Very slowly.” Melody drew out the words. ”He now knows which colors are authentic Victorian reproductions, and which brands have the least emissions.” She rolled her eyes. ”'Just pick a color you like' obviously was not the proper way to approach something of such import with Detective Sergeant Cullen.”
Doug Cullen had become Kincaid's partner when Gemma had been promoted to inspector, and although Kincaid's leave had left him a.s.signed to a different murder team, Cullen and Melody had become cautious friends.
”Well, it is his first house,” Gemma said, laughing. ”You could cut him some slack.” Sobering, she nibbled a corner of her sandwich and regarded Melody a little hesitantly. ”We haven't seen much of him. How are things at the Yard, do you have any idea?”
”I know Doug despises working with Superintendent Slater, and the feeling seems to be mutual. I think Doug's taking out his frustration on the paint.”
”Has he said anything about Duncan? About the job, I mean?”
”Only that he's eager for him to come back. Why?” Melody looked concerned now. Gemma began to regret saying anything, but Melody was the only person she could talk to about this.
”It's just that-Look, you won't say anything to Doug?”
”Not if you don't want me to.” Melody put down her sandwich and gave Gemma her full attention.
”I'm probably worrying over nothing. But when Duncan told Denis Childs he needed a bit more time at home, Denis went all hale and hearty and 'Don't bother your little head about it.' Not like him at all.”
”No,” Melody said slowly, frowning. ”But surely he's just being-”
”All warm and fuzzy?” Gemma shook her head. ”Definitely not the chief super's style, however sympathetic he may be under that impa.s.sive exterior. But I-”
She stopped as a shadow fell over their table. Looking up, she saw a large man with a shaved head and a neat brown beard, wrapping a bartender's ap.r.o.n around his waist. ”I'm Reg,” he said. ”Kasey said you wanted a word?”
Gemma pushed her chair back and showed him her ID. ”It's about Vincent Arnott. One of your regulars, I think?”
”Sure, he comes in most Friday nights.” The man grinned. ”Don't tell me Vince has the law after him.”
”He's dead, actually,” said Gemma quietly.
”What?” The smile left the bartender's face. ”You're having me on, right?” When their expressions a.s.sured him that they weren't, he pulled out a chair and sat, heavily. ”I don't believe it. He was just in last night. Was there an accident or something? Look, I'm careful not to overserve my customers,” he added, a defensive edge to his voice. ”And besides, Vince never drives-”
”There's no evidence that he did,” said Gemma quickly, not wanting to get off on the wrong foot. ”What time did he come in?”
Reg seemed to relax. ”A bit after seven, maybe. It was Friday-night pandemonium in here. I remember serving him after the band came on, maybe eight thirtyish, but it was his second gla.s.s of wine, at least. Someone else must have served him before that.”
”Did you talk to him?”
”Not really. Couldn't hear over the music.” Reg gestured towards the back of the room, to the right of the bar, and Gemma saw that there was a small area used as a stage. ”Vince was never happy when the bands were loud. He could get downright stroppy about it.”
”Then why did he come?” asked Gemma.
”Oh, well, you know. We were his local.” Reg shrugged, and Gemma thought she saw a flicker of discomfort.
”Did you know him well, then?”
”Just the usual bar chat. Sometimes he'd nip in for half an hour during the week, when it was quieter. I knew he lived nearby, and that he was a lawyer. A barrister, I think. He said once that his wife was ill.” The discomfort was more evident now.
”That bothers you,” said Melody, having picked up on it as well. ”Why?”
”Look.” Reg sighed. ”I'm a happily married man. And a bartender, so I see a bit of everything. What other people do is not my business.”
”So what did Vince Arnott do that you didn't like?” asked Gemma, ignoring his protestations.
Reg looked at them, then shrugged again. ”Not to speak ill of the dead and all that, but more often than not he'd end up with a bird. Buy them a few drinks. Sometimes I think he left with them.”
”Anyone in particular?”
”No. But he had a type. Blond. Middle-aged. Divorced. Out for a little weekend fun.”
”Do you know if he took them to the Belvedere Hotel?” put in Melody.
Reg gave a bark of disbelief. ”That s.h.i.+t hole? Sorry,” he added, wincing. ”But anyone round here knows that place is not exactly four star, and Vince was a cashmere kind of guy. Still . . . ” He thought about it for a moment. ”Unless he went home with the ladies, I suppose that would be the most convenient option . . . ”
”Do you know if Arnott went in for anything kinky?”
”Kinky?” Reg stared at Melody, and Gemma couldn't be sure if he was shocked at the suggestion or the fact that it came from a woman as wholesome looking as Melody Talbot. ”G.o.d, no. Surely not. He was Mr. Straight Ahead.”
”What about last night? Was he with anyone?” asked Gemma.
”Not that I saw.” Reg scratched his chin. ”Oh, but there was the bit of argy-bargy with the guitar player.”
”What?” Gemma and Melody said in unison, then after a glance at Melody, Gemma went on. ”You mean he was in a fight?”
”Just a shouting match. It was the guitar player who punched the guy in the face.”
”Okay, back up,” said Gemma. ”What guitar player?”
”The one in the band,” Reg answered a little impatiently. ”Look, I didn't actually see what happened. The band stopped for a break, so there was a crush at the bar. Then I hear somebody shout, and when I looked, there's this bloke holding his hand to his nose, and the guitar player's manager clamps the guitar player by the shoulders and drags him back. Then, Vince is telling off the guitar player for starting a row, and the guitar player tells him to f.u.c.k off. End of story.”
”Did they know each other? Arnott and the guitar player?”
”Don't think so. Not one of our usual bands, and from what I heard, Vince was reading him the 'Behave yourself, young man,' riot act. Vince could be a bit of a p.r.i.c.k that way, but I was happy enough. I don't like fighting in my bar.”
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