Lying Beside You (Cyrus Haven #3)(79)

‘Yes.’

Her left eyebrow arches. ‘This is work, then?’

‘Work and pleasure.’

‘Mmmmm. OK. Dry white wine.’

The manager is easy to spot. Tall and skinny, he has a millionaire’s moustache, waxed at the tips. Evie said his name was Brando, which sounds invented, or an affectation. When I reach the bar, he tosses a cloth over his shoulder and adjusts the rolls on his shirtsleeves, before moving towards me in a gangly, long-limbed way, like a baby giraffe learning to walk.

‘What can I get you?’

‘White wine. Something dry. And I’ll have a Scotch on the rocks.’

He points to a selection on a shelf behind him. I choose one. ‘Have the police talked to you about Friday night?’ I ask casually.

A piece of ice slips from the tongs and bounces across the floor.

‘You’re not a copper.’

‘I’m a forensic psychologist. I work with the police.’

‘Yeah, well, I already told them everything I know.’

‘Daniela Linares was sitting with two girlfriends at the table in the corner. You delivered drinks to them.’

‘We only do bar service.’

‘Not this time.’

Brando pauses. I can see that he remembers, but he wants to deny it, or block the thought.

‘Someone bought them a round,’ he says.

‘What did he look like?’

‘I don’t know. A normal guy. The place was packed.’

‘You can do better than that.’

‘Forties. Shaved head. Your height.’

That doesn’t sound like Paulie or Foley.

‘What were they drinking?’ I ask.

‘A whisky sour, a Cosmopolitan and a daiquiri.’ He smiles. ‘That’s my thing – I remember what people order.’

‘You’re like a Rain Man.’

Brando looks at me blankly. Sarcasm is wasted on some people.

‘Did you leave the drinks unattended?’ I ask.

‘No.’ As he denies it, I see uncertainty in his eyes. ‘The police turned up. I talked to them. I was only gone for a minute.’

‘Where were the drinks?’

‘On the bar.’

I glance at the ceiling and notice a small CCTV camera tucked into the corner. The angle suggests that the staff are being monitored rather than customers.

‘We had a few problems with one of our bartenders,’ says Brando. ‘Missing cash and bottles of booze. Officially, it’s turned off because the staff complained.’

‘And unofficially?’

Brando doesn’t answer.

‘Was it working on Friday night?’

He glances at the waiting customers. ‘When I get a moment.’

Meanwhile, Cassie nudges my shoulder. ‘A girl could die of thirst.’

‘Coming now.’

I carry our drinks back to the table where we sit opposite each other. Cassie shifts on her stool. Our knees touch. She makes no effort to move. I take the opportunity to observe her up close. I look for some underlying feature or blemish that might detract from her good looks – lips that are too thin, or a crooked nose, or bad teeth – and while an absence of negatives doesn’t necessarily make a positive, Cassie truly is beautiful. Yet behind the laughter and dancing eyes I can sense her sadness.

‘Do you know this place?’ I ask.

‘I’ve been here a few times.’ She motions to Brando. ‘Did he make the cocktail for Daniela?’

‘And delivered it to her table.’

‘What was she drinking?’

‘A whisky sour.’

‘The lemon juice would have masked the taste of GHB.’

‘Three different cocktails. Only one of them was spiked. If Daniela was the target, he must have been watching her.’

‘Did anyone see him?’ asks Cassie.

‘No, but there might be footage.’ I point to the camera.

She tilts her head. ‘It’s facing the wrong direction.’

‘The drinks were left unattended on the bar.’

She makes a humming sound and sips her wine. ‘You are very clever.’

‘Not everyone thinks so.’ I’m thinking of DCI Hoyle.

Cassie changes the subject and asks if I’m single.

‘Yes.’

‘Ever been married?’

‘No.’

‘How did you meet Evie?’

‘I can’t really talk about that.’

‘Was she a patient?’

‘No, but she needed my help.’

‘Now I’m intrigued,’ says Cassie, toying with a plain silver ring on her right hand. ‘I think she has a crush on you.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘The puppy-dog eyes are a bit of a giveaway.’

‘That’s too much mascara.’

I tell her how Evie has been trying to set me up on dates by faking a dating profile. Cassie thinks it’s hilarious until I tell her that Evie swiped right on Maya Kirk, and they exchanged messages.

‘That’s cheeky – and dangerous.’

‘I was almost kicked off the case.’

‘OK, your turn,’ says Cassie. ‘What would you like to know?’