“We’re not totally sure at this point, but we’re working under the assumption he was murdered.”
“Murdered?” Now she sounded shocked. “Oh, good God.”
“Sorry,” Joseph offered. “What’s your name, Miss?”
“Phyllis Hunt.”
“Did you know him well, Phyllis?” Ray asked, fixing his gaze on the woman as she finally began pumping the second beer.
“As well as you can know any of the gents who come in here,” Phyllis answered. “He could talk, I’ll tell you that. Fancied himself as a bit of a ladies’ man.”
“Did he fancy himself with you?”
She placed the second beer down and Joseph took a small sip. It tasted slightly sour and he wondered how clean the lines had been kept. “He offered, but he offered to everyone.”
“And you said no?” Ray took a larger sip and waited for her answer. Phyllis shot him a mildly angry look.
“Listen, I don’t know what you think you heard about girls who work in pubs, but we don’t all get our knickers off for every bloke who thinks he has good patter.”
“Even someone a bit more exotic like Gerald?”
“This is South London. Exotic is everywhere.”
“Does it work for you?”
“What sort of a question is that?” Phyllis sounded genuinely annoyed now.
“One that I’d like an answer to. As a police officer, running a murder investigation.”
“It never mattered to me; it never didn’t matter to me.”
“Are you married?”
“Me? No. Engaged.” Joseph looked. No ring on her finger. It could have been that she merely didn’t like to wear it at work. Maybe she didn’t want to get it dirty or damaged. Maybe it helped to flirt with her customers.
“And your fiancé?”
“He’s the same as you and me.”
“Does it bother him that it doesn’t bother you? About… exoticism, I mean.”
“Are you asking if he has an issue with whether or not I might or might not have been with some coloured lads?”
Ray nodded as he took another sip.
“Not that it’s his business, of course,” she spat. “Nor yours.”
“So? Does he?”
“My past is mine. Not his.”
“And Gerald wasn’t your past.”
“No. He wasn’t.” Phyllis looked indignant now. “You’ve not paid for those yet,” she nodded at the beer.
Ray took out a ten-shilling note and place it on the bar. “For the beers and any perceived insult.”
Phyllis snatched it up off the bar. “You’ll get your change. I can’t be bought.” She turned to the cash register and Ray sighed, taking a pack of cigarettes from his pockets and lighting one. He offered the packet to Joseph, who took one and thanked Ray. He really wanted to chastise him. Before he could muster the courage, Phyllis returned. “Any other questions?”
“You could tell us what you did know about Gerald,” Joseph quickly answered, trying his best to steal in before Ray insulted Phyllis further.
“What do you mean?” she asked warily, keen to avoid any more aspersions being cast on her character.
“What was he like? Who did he talk to in here? Who might have had a problem with him?”
“That last one – every man and his dog. Gerald was a chancer. He liked to brag, he liked to boast and he liked to belittle. The man could tell a yarn all night long, and only when you got to the end of it, would you realise that the whole time it was just an elaborate joke at your expense. He had more than a few people throw a punch at him in here, but he was smart enough never to be one to swing back, so he was never the one that got barred.”
“Anyone he upset recently, or where he really crossed a line?”
“Not really. Silly stuff. You know how lads get. They tease each other and when there’s a few beers in them, they get a bit highly strung, don’t they? He knew how to play that. I think he liked the idea that he could clear the pub, to be honest, running my customers out of here. He was just…” she searched for the right word, “irritating. But not like, irritating enough to kill. People either swung for him or ignored him. Some nights he could be right lonely. Perch himself at the bar where you are, trying to strike up conversation with anyone else who came up. The more he came in, the less people answered back. They ignored him. Some of them ignored him from the off. Cos of what he was.”
“Black?”
“Yeah. That don’t always go down well with people.”
“Did anyone ever have an issue with that?”
“Gerald had been drinking in here pretty much since he got off the boat, I think. If the colour of his skin had been an issue in here, it would have come to a head long ago. No. People were far more annoyed by what he said than they were the look of him."
