Chapter 15 – Tiger Pub

The Tiger Pub was rundown, Ash thought. There was a dry cleaners next door, and a pizza takeaway the other side, but other store fronts on the block were forlornly empty, each with 'To Let' signs displayed.

Scribbs peered at the building. "Doesn't look that bad," she said.

Ash noted the peeling paint on the sign over the door, the cracked brickwork, and the stained pavement around the door, the metal of which was dented and scratched. "Not that bad?"

Scribbs smiled. "I mean that." She cracked her gum. "Compared to some I seen."

"Scribbs," ash sighed, "you do have to raise your standards. This the sort of place your date took you last evening?"

"No… we stayed in, his place and had… uhm, takeaway." Scribbs shook her head. "None of your business."

Ash grinned. "I'm only trying to get you to raise your…"

"Standards, right." Scribbs cut off their chat but pulling the door open and going through. The inside looked slightly better than the outside but was typical. Dark wood beams overhead, stucco walls, a long bar, row of stools with two men sitting there like they owned those particular seats. Two tables held a foursome and a threesome of dinners/drinkers; mostly men.

The gray-haired and portly barkeep smiled at the two women as they approached. He liked the dark-haired one. Glorious pile of hair on her head. The blonde one put him off; he didn't like gum chewing or the fluorescent clothing on her. "Help you ladies?" he asked.

Ash drew him to the end of the bar with a nod of her head, away from the few customers, and then produced her badge. "Detective Inspector Kate Ashurst and this is Detective Sergeant Scribbins," she told him quietly. "We are seeking information on these two people." She showed him photos of Jenny Browning and Michael Barnard. "Have you seen these two eating or drinking here?"

"In the last few weeks," Scribbs added.

The man pursed his lips. "Maybe. Let me think. Nighttime, was it?"

Ash gave Scribbs a considering look. "Probably."

The barman turned his head and yelled into the Kitchen. "Chrissy! Come out here!"

"What you want?" a young female voice answered, but then the voice's owner emerged.

Ash appraised the woman with a glance. Age about twenty-five, red hands and peroxide hair but two deep blue eyes which stared back at her. A tight t-shirt and low neckline showed off her medium-sized breasts to advantage. Ash presented herself and Scribbs to the woman.

"Hm. Right. So, what you two cops want?" Chrissy asked belligerently.

"This is Chrissy, she waits the tables; cleans up," the barman told them.

Scribbs took the lead. "So have you seen these two?" She held out the photos. "Together? Or separately?"

Chrissy suck a finger in her mouth and began to chew. "Maybe. The man… yes."

The barman laughed. "I remember those two now!" he exclaimed. "I was working nights; you were with me then as well, Chrissy. That band," he snapped his fingers, "got it! The band that night was The Breakups. Sorta made sense in an odd way, because this guy and girl, the one in the picture, was here that night, and then there came the other woman."

Chrissy's eyes get large. "Oh yeah. A fight there was."

"A fight?" Ash answered.

Scribbs started to make notes on her pad. "Tell us more; what you remember."

The barman shrugged. "More of a dust up. The guy," he tapped the photo, "had been here with the other woman, once or twice, I guess, and then later come in with this one." He pointed to Jenny's photo.

"So, this fight," Ash prodded.

"Argument," Chrissy answered. "The older woman, wearing clothing well… mutton dressed as lamb – some people have no idea how to dress. She starts into the girl, I thought hair-pulling was next, but the guy got between them."

The barman nodded. "Jilted lover, seemed to me."

Chrissy shook her head. "No, more like jealousy. I didn't get the feeling the man and the other one were in a… you know. More like…"

"A want-to-be?" said Ash.

"Yeah. Like that," the waitress said. "Oh, and she grabbed his neck real hard, then he pushed her off him." She cocked her head. "Maybe scratched him? It musta hurt because he swore at her."

The barman nodded. "Usually it's men fighting, you know?"

"Right," Scribbs replied.

Chrissy added. "Then she left, but the two in the photos stayed awhile. And I saw him rubbing at his neck, like it hurt where she'd grabbed at him."

Ash gave Scribbs the eye, so Scribbs said. "Thank you. Now please give me you full names and mobile numbers? Just for our report."

Outside the place, Scribbs whistled. "I think I know or have a good guess."

"Who?" Ash asked.

"We need to talk to Weatherall again. Back to the morgue, Ash."

Ash sighed. "Today's been a real fun park, hasn't it?"

Scribbs smiled at her. "We paid for the tickets, might as well finish the ride."

"Right."