The pub over the road was called the Napoleon. It was what my dad would have called a proper boozer. No red velvet, no zebra print, and definitely no pink flowers. It was just after midday when I walked in, and the activity of the day seemed to be scraping chewing gum from underneath the tables. The place smelled of spilled lager and the ghost of tobacco. My kind of joint.
‘Help you, love?’ said the man, presumably Wade, looking up from his scraping. I noticed a huge Rottweiler sitting by his feet, eyeing me cautiously, docked tail wriggling from side to side. It was massive. It was the anti-Cupid. I kept my distance, asked if he was the owner, and explained why I was there.
Wade straightened up and looked at me thoughtfully. He had a classic number one hairdo, a beer belly that showed he enjoyed his job, and a bulbous red nose that showed he enjoyed it a bit too much.
‘You’re fucking kidding me, right?’ he asked. ‘Do those glitterball twats think I stole their dog? Roger would eat that rat for breakfast and shit it straight out!’
I looked at Roger – the Rottie, I presumed – and decided he was probably right.
‘Nobody’s accusing you of that, Wade,’ I replied, not wanting to provoke a hate crime with my blundering. ‘I’m only asking if you saw anything. You’re just over the road and all. Did you see or hear anything? Anything suspicious at all?’
‘What?’ he said, smirking and flashing me teeth that were strangers to the cosmetic enhancements I’d seen across the way. ‘Like someone running out of there with a big bag marked swag? Course I didn’t! I might hate that lot, but I love dogs. I’d happily punch their lights out, but I’d never stoop so low. Someone probably took the thing because of the poncey collar. Probably thought the diamonds were real or something equally stupid. Criminals aren’t the sharpest tools in the box, are they?’
I had to agree. They weren’t. And he could be exactly right. I wasn’t getting any kind of dognapping vibe from Wade, so I thanked him and left. I looked around for CCTV cameras, but that would have been too easy.
I tried to figure out what to do next, and went on instinct. The smell in there was making me want a pint.