The Silent Sisters (Charles Jenkins #3)(21)
“Know it?”
“Did they tell you?”
“No, of course not, but I have been a bartender for many years. I could tell from their behavior, the look in their eyes. It—”
“Ah. You surmised it.”
“What?”
“You surmised from their demeanor and physicality that the men were drunk.”
“I guess.”
“Continue.”
“Okay, well, they bought shots and beers and went to the back to shoot pool.”
“Just the men or the woman also?”
“No. Just the men.”
“What happened to the woman?”
“What happened to her?”
“Did she, too, play pool?”
“She is a prostitute,” the owner said, seemingly baffled.
“She told you this.”
“Well no, but . . . I surprised it.”
“Surmised. You surmised it from her physicality and demeanor.”
“More from what she was wearing, and she has been in before.”
“You know her?”
“She goes by the name Isabella. I believe it is an . . .”
“An alias?”
“Yes.”
“Please continue.”
“Another man came in. He sat in that booth and watched the men and the woman. I surmised this also,” he added quickly. “Because Eldar flipped him off.”
“Eldar?”
“One of the men playing pool.”
“You know him as well as the prostitute?”
“I know more of him. He comes into the bar to shoot pool.”
Arkhip said nothing.
“So I approached the man in the booth. He ordered a beer, and I told him I thought it best that he leave.”
“Why?”
“I sensed a problem. The man seemed too interested in the woman.” The bartender’s eyes shifted up and to the left.
A lie. The bartender was not telling the truth, or perhaps not the whole truth. Arkhip found it best not to confront a witness. It only made him guarded. He’d come back to the question. “What did your patron say?”
“He asked if the kitchen was still open.”
“Did he eat?”
“What? No. When I returned with his beer, he looked at me and said he’d take my advice. He left through the front door.”
“What happened next?”
“I heard a gunshot in the alley. I mean . . . I surmised it was a gunshot. When I pushed open the door—” He pointed to the rear of the bar, beyond the pool table. “The back door to the alley.”
“Continue.”
“I pushed open the back door to the alley and I saw Eldar leaning against the man from the booth. He’d been shot.”
“When did Eldar go into the alley?”
“Just before the man in the booth left the bar.”
“What of the other man and the woman?”
“They went into the alley with Eldar.”
“Do you know why?”
“No.” The man looked away.
Another lie. Arkhip would leave it for now and come back to it also. “They didn’t finish their game of pool or their beers?” Arkhip asked.
“No.”
“So this man . . .” He checked his notes. “This man, Eldar, and the other man and the woman went out the back door into the alley, for what reason we do not know. Shortly thereafter the man in the booth went out the front door, and we can surmise he walked around the side of the building to the alley, where you believe he shot Eldar?”
“I surmised it,” the man said a little too forcefully.
“A good surmise.” Arkhip smiled. It was important to keep a witness calm. Arkhip found it helped their recollection. “Where was the woman?”
“She was against the wall, to my left.”
“And the other man?”
“What other man?”
Arkhip flipped back through his notes. “You said two men entered the bar. And I said it sounds like a joke . . . You said the two men appeared drunk—”
“Yes. Yes. I don’t know where he was. I didn’t see him.”
“He wasn’t in the alley?” That seemed odd.
“I said I didn’t see him.”
“You don’t know.”
“I surmised he wasn’t there . . . because I didn’t see him.”
“Okay. Yes. What happened next?”
The man looked horrified. “What do you think happened next?”
“I can assure you I have no idea.”
The bartender exhaled. “I shut the door. I didn’t want to get shot. I shut the door and I called the police.”
“Good thinking. Very good thinking,” Arkhip said. He turned to the officer. “Were you first on the scene?”
“Yes. Me and my partner. He’s speaking to people outside. Trying to determine if anyone saw anything.”
“Was there anyone else in the bar?” Arkhip asked the owner.
“No. Everyone had left,” the bartender said.
“Would you like to see the body, Senior Investigator Mishkin?” The officer moved toward the step leading up to the pool table. “I think it might explain some things.”