Page 18 of When You're Safe

The barman was now looking at himwide-eyed and nervous.

“Looks like you have a goodselection of ales here,” Finn said, casting his eye across the beer taps. “ButI’m looking for something a little local. Something that I can’t get anywhereelse.”

Finn touched the shiny beer tapsone by one, slowly walking the length of the bar until his finger rested on thefinal tap. The tap with no identifying label.

“Oooh, no name,” Finn said in acheeky voice. “I like a good mystery. I’ll have a pint of this, please.”

“You can’t drink, Finn,” Winterssighed. “You’re on duty.”

“Consultant, not a police officeras you so often like to remind me.” Finn grinned. “Give me a nice cold pint ofthis, please, barkeep.”

“You’re driving,” Winters thensaid.

“I hate the car,” he retorted. “Youcan drive me back.”

“Finn… what are you…”

“Now that’s very interesting,”Finn said to the barman. “You seem to be hesitating. I take it from your chalkboardup there that this beer tap is for the Special St. Albans Brew?”

Finn’s voice was booming, and ashe asked this question loudly, he heard something above his head. Someone wasmoving around on the floor above, the aged beams and floorboards groaning alongwith the movement.

“Come on… Beatson, isn’t it?” Finnasked. “Why not give me a pint of your special brew?”

“It’s off,” the man said, his facebeaming red. “Would you like something else?”

Finn leaned over and pushed thetap forward. A stream of frothing beer momentarily poured out from it,splashing onto a plastic drip tray underneath. Finn then turned it off.

“Looks like there’s plenty to goaround, Beatson,” Finn said. “Or is it just that you don’t want us to know thatyou’re selling illegal booze here for a quick profit? I’ve seen plenty ofbootlegging operations in my time back home in Florida, but never one so brazenas to be sold out of a bar so openly. This wouldn’t be a little businessarrangement between you and Devon now, would it?”

Beatson stared red-faced andsilent. Fear and anger exuded from the man.

Footsteps now sounded worriedlyfrom above, and then the sound of something scratching or scrambling just abovethe entrance doorway.

“Excuse me, Winters,” Finn saidwith a knowing smile.

He walked quickly to the entranceand stuck his head out into the sunshine. Looking up, he saw a man in a shirtand tie, precariously trying to climb down an old drain pipe to the streetbelow. When he was only a few feet away from the sidewalk, Finn shouted:

“Boo!”

The man let out a surprised gasp,lost his footing, and fell toward the ground. Finn stretched out his musculararms and half caught the man, making sure he didn’t slam into the concrete.

“Hello there,” Finn said. “DevonLangdon, I presume?”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Winters walked with purpose alongthe fluorescent-lit hallway. She hadn’t been convinced by the murder hypothesis,but the more she had looked into Devon Langdon’s background, the more shebelieved he was quite capable of it. In her hand was the suspect’s case file,faxed through thirty minutes before. This had given her some time to study it,and it made for some interesting reading.

Carnwell police station was thenearest place to St. Albans with an interview room, and while she was thankfulthat the staff there had been able to furnish her and Finn with a place toquestion Devon Langdon so quickly, the place felt like a throwback to the1970s. Even the local constable seemed surprised that a woman was heading up a murderinquiry.

But Winters knew the drill, and aslong as she could help put a murderer behind bars, she could tolerateout-of-date notions. As long as those notions didn’t get in her way.

As she turned a corner, the beigedoor to the interview room came into view. Leaning with his back against thewall next to it was the tall, muscular figure of Finn Wright, arms folded,still wearing his sunglasses indoors.

“Finally,” Finn said. “I thought I’dhave to take all of the glory for myself.”

“We’re not even certain bothvictims were murdered,” Amelia said. “Let’s not get carried away that we’vefound a murderer so quickly.”

“Oh, come on!” Finn replied. “Thisguy is shady, and he’s got a motive and a rap sheet as long as your arm.All we need now is a confession.”

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