Chapter 38
Thirty-Eight
Penn thanked the young couple for their time and advised them they were free to leave.
He’d headed here immediately on the boss’s instructions to interview witnesses who had been in the pub at the same time as Nadine Cowley.
He’d lost one potential witness who had insisted on returning to work, but her mother had remained.
Of the seven people the landlord had managed to keep in the pub, this lady in her early sixties was the last one to interview.
From the level of information he’d received so far, he didn’t hold out much hope of discovering anything worthwhile. Most folks had seen Nadine enter, but they hadn’t taken much notice after that, having no need to pay attention.
He moved to the last table where the woman was looking at her phone.
‘Sorry to keep you.’
‘Rita,’ she offered. ‘Rita Copson, but Rita will do,’ she said, putting away her phone.
‘Thanks so much for staying back, Rita, and sorry for the wait.’
‘It’s okay. Never one to turn down free mince pies and white wine,’ she said with a smile. ‘And before you ask, I’m walking.’
Penn laughed because it had been the first thought that had occurred to him. Occupational hazard for police officers, especially at this time of year.
‘May I ask if you were here alone?’ he said once he’d taken her full address and phone number.
‘No, I was here with my daughter. She had to leave half an hour ago, but she didn’t see anything anyway.’
‘How do you know?’ he asked.
‘I love my daughter but she’s so immersed in herself that once she got talking about her job, she wouldn’t have noticed a herd of buffalo storming through.’
‘But still, she might—’
‘She had her back to them. She was sitting where you are now, and the lady in the pink blouse was sitting over there,’ she said, pointing to a table just right of the bar. Fully in Rita’s eyeline.
Penn didn’t question how she knew who he was interested in. They’d been held hostage in a pub not solitary confinement. Unlikely that Mick Hill hadn’t shared what he’d found with someone. Any information would have travelled around like wildfire.
‘Did you see her come in?’ he asked.
‘Who didn’t?’ she said, opening her eyes wide. ‘She hesitated by the door and took a good look around. That pink shirt got your attention, but what held it was the confidence. She was assured, if you know what I mean.’
Penn knew exactly what she meant. There were people who had that something that you couldn’t name but it commanded attention when they entered a room.
He had enough self-awareness to know that he was the complete opposite.
He could enter a room on a unicycle and not one person would remember him later.
‘Then what?’ he asked.
‘She got a drink and sat at that table. She did something on her phone and then put it away. Probably a few minutes later, a man came in. He bought a drink and went to her table.’
‘Could you describe him for me?’ Penn asked, taking out his notebook.
‘Slim build, light brown hair, probably mid-forties, navy suit, white shirt. I didn’t see his shoes though.’
Penn almost laughed. It was quite a generic description but still better than what most witnesses would have recalled.
‘The lady stood up and they hugged. They sat close together. Each time I looked, they were closer, all secretive and whispering. They were touchy-feely and leaning in to each other, a bit like honeymooners. I don’t think they’ve been together very long.
She was flicking her hair and touching her lips as though she really wanted him to like her. It was a bit of a performance.’
‘Did you see anyone with a camera?’ he asked, remembering the boss’s call.
She nodded. ‘Oh yes. That man came in before the lady. He sat over by the fruit machine. Nice camera. He was cleaning it, I think.’
‘So, what happened next?’
‘Well, the chappie with the camera left, and it was a bit weird because not long after that she pulled away from the man she was with. The flirting stopped and she seemed a bit bored, as though she was ready to leave. He wasn’t looking any less keen, and he put his hand under the table, you know, for a…
well, you know,’ she said, looking uncomfortable for the first time.
‘You think he was touching her intimately under the table?’ Penn asked.
‘I think he tried, but she jumped away like a scalded cat. She was really angry. Her face was completely different: hard, disgusted. She said some stuff that I couldn’t hear, and then he was angry as well. He got up and like towered over her, hissing something in her face.’
‘Did you hear anything he said?’ Penn asked.
‘He told her she’d be sorry before he stormed out. Oh my goodness, he didn’t do something to her, did he?’
‘That’s what we’re trying to find out,’ he said, wondering if Rita had not only entertained herself watching Nadine but had in fact just witnessed the reason for her murder.