‘I’m Detective Hunter and this is Detective Garcia – LAPD Robbery Homicide.’
Garcia followed suit.
The bartender acknowledged with a nod. ‘I’m Conor. What can I do ya for?’
‘We were just wondering if you’ve ever seen this man.’ Hunter reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved a photo of Shaun Daniels, placing it on the counter in front of the bartender.
Conor’s eyes moved to it for just a second before returning to Hunter.
‘It’s hard to say, like,’ he replied. ‘A lot of people come in here for a pint. We’re a busy bar, ya know?’
Garcia turned to look back at the empty tables just behind them. He didn’t say anything, but when he looked back at the bartender, it was as if the Irishman could read the words –you could’ve fooled me here– written on the detective’s forehead.
‘Nights are a lot busier than the days,’ he said, offering an explanation.
When the bartender glanced at the photo on the counter, Hunter had kept his eyes on him. The ‘it’s hard to say’ answer had come too fast. Not enough time for the human conscious mind to take in any details and match them against a memory; but Hunter wasn’t really surprised. He and Garcia were both very used to those sorts of replies – ‘I’m not sure… it’s hard to say… it doesn’t ring a bell…’ and so on. That usually happened because a great number of civilians tended to retreat into a shell of doubt when confronted with police badges and then asked about a person in a photograph. They usually did it not exactly because they had something to hide, or they didn’t want to help, but because they had recognized the person in the photo and they didn’t know what sort of trouble that person was in. They simplydidn’t want to ‘rat’ on someone they knew, even if they didn’t know them that well.
‘Please, have another look,’ Hunter insisted, tapping the photo with his index finger. His tone was calm and non-threatening. ‘He was a regular at this bar – two or three nights a week, at least.’
Conor’s eyes returned to the photo. This time, it stayed on it for a couple of seconds.
‘Aye,’ he finally accepted, nodding sideways at the photograph. ‘I think I’ve seen him around a few times, like.’
Once again, Hunter had studied the bartender’s expression and eye movement. His reply had, yet again, been too quick for the human brain to identify and place a total stranger. The only way that the human brain could’ve recognized someone that fast, was if the brain didn’t have to do too much searching. That meant that Shaun Daniels wasn’t exactly a stranger to Conor.
Hunter needed to level with him.
‘You probably already know this,’ he said, meeting the bartender’s stare. ‘But his name is Shaun Daniels.’
Conor replied with an almost imperceptible nod. ‘Aye.’
‘The last time that he was in here, at O’Hearn’s,’ Hunter continued, ‘was a month ago, on May 18th. His last ever credit card transaction came at 10:41 p.m. on that night, registered to this bar.’
Hunter saw the bartender blink then frown.
‘Lastevercredit card transaction? What do you mean?’
Garcia nodded. ‘Mr. Daniels was abducted. Very possibly on that same night, after he left here.’
Conor’s head jerked back slightly. ‘Abducted?’
A confirmation nod from Garcia.
‘Yer codding me, right?’
Garcia’s eyebrows arched at the bartender. ‘I’m not exactly sure I know what that means, but I’m quite certain that I’m not “codding” you.’
Conor looked at Hunter, who subtly shook his head at him.
‘We believe that Mr. Daniels was abducted just after he left your bar on the night of May 18th,’ Garcia continued. ‘Which makes O’Hearn’s the last traceable location for Mr. Daniels.’ He paused, giving Conor a few seconds to process the severity of his words. ‘So, what we’re really wondering is – on the nights that he came into O’Hearn’s, did Mr. Daniels use to drink with someone else? Did he have any beer buddies… any of the regulars we can talk to? Does anyone remember seeing him here on the night of May 18th? Did he have company that night? Anything that can maybe help us put together what might’ve happened to Mr. Daniels once he left this bar.’
Conor pinched his lower lip with his left thumb and index finger. His expression turned thoughtful for an instant. ‘I thought that that was odd, like – not seeing Shaun in here for a while. Especially on Saturdays. He was always here on Saturdays.’ He shook his head. ‘So Shaun’s been missing for a month?’
Hunter and Garcia exchanged a deliberating look.
‘He’s not missing,’ Hunter said.
Conor’s gaze once again bounced between both detectives, this time for a couple of hesitant seconds. ‘Wha… what ya saying?’
