When the Music's Over by Peter Robinson

Author:Peter Robinson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2016-06-23T04:00:00+00:00

9

THE BAY HORSE WAS A SPRAWLING MODERN CHAIN pub on the estate, sitting beside a cluster of local shops—greengrocer, butcher, newsagent and hairdresser. When Annie and Gerry walked in that Tuesday afternoon, the place was almost deserted except for a lone figure in jeans and a black T-shirt sitting hunched over his pint in the far corner. Some music Banks would probably recognize was playing softly in the background—maybe Dire Straits, Annie thought—but other than that the pub was quiet.

When they got a little closer, he looked up at them, and Annie could see that his eyes were red-rimmed, as if he’d been crying. He had a skinhead haircut and was stockier than Annie had expected, with elaborate tattoos on the muscles of his arms. She could see some similarity in features to the images of Mimosa she had seen, the catlike slant of the eyes, the full, slightly pouting lips. On Mimosa it would all have been sexy as hell in life, whatever her age, but it made Albert’s features seem a little too feminine. If he had more hair, Annie thought, he might even be quite handsome.

Lenny had told them he had just given the news to Albert about Mimosa and left him in the pub, that he had wanted to sit alone for a while and digest what he’d heard. Annie leaned over and said, “Albert? Lenny told us you were here. We’re the police. We need to ask you a few questions. Is it OK if we sit down?”

Albert looked from one to the other. “Might as well,” he said.

Annie nodded toward the almost empty glass. “Another?”

“Thanks.”

Gerry went to the bar and came back with a pint of lager for Albert and two diet bitter lemons for herself and Annie.

“We’ll try and make it brief and painless,” Annie said. “We’re really sorry about your sister. I understand you’ve only just heard about what happened?”

“Yes.”

“Where were you?”

“Manchester, clubbing with some mates. I went there on Thursday and came back this morning.”

“Drive?”

“Nah. Train.”

“When did you last see Mimosa?”

“The weekend before. Sunday, I think. Maybe Monday.”

“And you weren’t worried about her? I mean, she’d already been missing two days before you left for Manchester.”

“That wasn’t unusual. Not for our Mimsy. Besides, I’m not always at home myself.”

“What did you do last Tuesday night?” Annie asked.

“I stopped over at Paul’s. We’d had a bit to drink, like, watched some DVDs and crashed out.”

“What time was this?”

“Dunno. We met up in the pub earlier. Not this one. The Hope and Anchor, near his place. We left there about tennish, I suppose.”

“And went to Paul’s?”

“Yeah. That’s Paul Warner. He’s my best mate.”

“You stay there often?”

“Paul says I can crash whenever I want. He’s got one of those letdown couches. It’s pretty comfortable. And a power shower. Cool.”

“What about work, Albert? Don’t you have to go to work in the morning?”

“I’m unemployed. Paul lets me work with him sometimes. Odd jobs, like, you know, fetching and lifting.”

“What does this Paul do?”

“He’s got his own business.

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