She drove out of the car park and felt a knot forming in her throat as she thought about facing Samuel Avery once again. The day was going from bad to worse.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The smell of beer-sodden carpet wafted through the doors of the Angel Arms as Gina and Jacob entered. A girl who couldn’t have been much older than the legal age to work in a pub smiled, showing off her braced teeth. Gina opened the buttons of her jacket and smiled. ‘Are Samuel Avery and Robin Dawkins here?’
The girl straightened out the stripy tank top over her crisp white balloon sleeved shirt and furrowed her brow. ‘Robin? I don’t know anyone called Robin.’ She glanced at Jacob and smiled.
‘Elvis, sorry. He’s known as Elvis.’
‘Ahh, I see. Elvis, I never did get it. He thinks he’s the karaoke king but in my opinion, he’s a bit off key. They’re in the beer garden, smoking.’ Two elderly men queued up behind Gina, waiting to be served. ‘Do you want a drink or shall I serve him?’
Gina stepped aside.
‘Your usual, Billy?’
The man nodded. ‘And his usual too.’ He pointed his walking stick at his drinking partner.
‘I’ll bring them over in a minute.’
Jacob leaned on the bar. The girl glanced over and smiled – his action man looks often made him a little bit of a hit but unlike Samuel Avery, Jacob would never take advantage of someone so young or cheat on Jennifer. ‘Were you working here on Saturday night?’
‘Yes.’
He stood up. ‘Great. We’ll be back to chat with you in a minute. Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome,’ she called as she began measuring a couple of drinks from the top shelf. ‘Who are you?’
‘DS Driscoll and DI Harte,’ he said as they walked off.
‘I pity anyone that has to work here,’ Gina said as they walked past the toilets toward the beer garden.
The slabbed patio was full of wooden tables and chairs. Moss grew through the gaps in the tiles and beer bottles and cigarette ends were scattered all over the garden.
‘Samuel Avery, Robin Dawkins,’ Gina said as she walked up to them, Jacob catching up with her.
‘Not you again. Turn the porn off, Elvis?’ Samuel Avery let out a pantomime laugh.
The younger man slammed the laptop he held closed and stood up from the table.
‘Chill, Detective Inspector, or can I call you Gina now that we’re practically family?’
‘You will never be my family.’
He shrugged and grinned as he swapped his weight between his feet. ‘What’s this all about? Come to tell me to keep away from little Hannah again? I can’t help it that I’m irresistible to women.’
He lit a cigarette, inhaled and blew out a plume of smoke. He was a smoker like the man their drug dealer spotted touching himself in the clearing on the night of Holly’s murder. Had Samuel Avery gone back to the venue after taking the van full of kegs back to the pub? He wouldn’t even need to drive. Had the location where his crime had taken place lured him back? Had being there given him a thrill? He could have taken the country walk at the back of the town that led to the woods, easily avoiding the police that were guarding the comings and goings on the road.
‘Were you alone after leaving Cleevesford Manor?’
‘What do you think? Oh, maybe I brought Elvis and Cass back for a three-way.’
She’d come to expect this type of comment from Avery.
‘Seriously, I came back. I was knackered and I went to bed.’
She glanced at her notes trying not to imagine him with Hannah, feeling her knuckles clenching around her pen. ‘Tell me about the gatecrashers. They were a group of locals that frequent the Angel.’
‘Everyone who lives in this town and likes a drink frequents my pub. It’s the main boozer in Cleevesford. What makes you think the gatecrashing issue is anything to do with us? Do you know anything about any gatecrashers coming from here, Elvis?’
