In The Wild Boar, Jay leaned over the bar, searching for someone to serve him. He’d been busy, spreading the rumour that Dan had solved Mortimer’s murder, and all that talking had left him with a powerful thirst. Craning his neck to peer into the pub’s small kitchen, he caught a glimpse of movement and called out, “Kev, any chance of getting served? I’ve been waiting for ages.”
“Just a minute,” someone replied, and though the voice was a woman’s, it didn’t sound like Sam.
Jay tilted his head to one side. In the kitchen, someone was having an argument. He caught fragments of words, the tone strident, but he couldn’t make out what was being said. He watched, waiting, old instincts being rekindled. But he couldn’t stand by and do nothing.
Jay strode over to the end of the bar and pushed the hinged section upward, but before he could step through, a figure appeared to face him.
“Can I help you with something?” Kristen asked, her eyes locked on his.
“I was just looking for Kev, trying to get another pint.” Slowly, Jay lowered the bar and stepped back. “Where is he, anyway?”
“He’s out the back,” Kristen replied. “But I can get you a drink. What would you like?”
“You? Pull a pint?” Jay almost laughed. “That’ll be the day.”
Kristen’s expression showed no flicker of amusement. “Would you like a drink or not?”
“All right then. I’ll have a pint of Dartmoor Best.”
“Certainly.” She snatched a glass from the shelf and hunted for the correct pump.
“It’s in that keg behind you,” Jay said. “It’s the guest ale.”
“I know that. I just forgot for a minute.” Kristen regarded the keg with suspicion, then she leaned into the kitchen door. “Sam, can you come and deal with this, please?”
“Hang on,” Sam called out, then she appeared in the doorway wiping her hands on a towel. “What’s up?”
Kristen handed her the glass. “Could you serve this gentleman his pint of Dartmoor Best? I have some figures I want to go over.”
“Right. No problem.” Sam began pouring the beer, concentrating on the glass.
“So, what’s happened to Kevin then?” Jay asked. “Sloped off for a smoke again, has he?”
Without looking up, Sam said, “He’s gone out to chop some wood for the fire. On a boiling hot day like this. I reckon he’s finally cracked.”
Kristen had been on the point of walking away, but she turned on her heel. “Sam, what have I told you about gossiping with the customers? Kevin hasn’t gone for firewood. That would be ridiculous. Just give the man his drink and take his money, that’s all that’s required.”
“All right, no need to go through all that again.” Sam placed the pint in front of Jay. “Give me a second to figure out this new till. Kev was meant to show me, but he never got around to it, and it’s different to the shop.”
She studied the till, her eyebrows lowered, then she jabbed at a button. “Oh, that can’t be right.”
“I can pay Kev when he gets back if you like.” Jay took a sip of his drink, and from the corner of his eye, he watched Kristen flounce from the bar. He leaned a little closer to Sam. “What made you think Kev had gone out to get firewood?”
“I didn’t say he was going to get some wood, I said he was going to chop it.” Sam rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why Kristen was arguing about it. I mean, what else would he be doing with that bloody great axe?”
Jay put his glass down heavily, beer slopping onto the polished bar. “What?”
“Yeah. Just now, Kev had an awful row with Ms High-and-mighty, then he stomped off with a face like thunder. I saw him outside. I was by the back window, and Kev had an axe over his shoulder. He was marching off down the alley.”
“Bloody hell!” Jay fixed Sam with a look. “I want you to call the police. Dial 999. Tell them they need to send someone to the spoil heaps right away. Tell them to pass the message on to a DS Spiller at Exeter HQ.”
“Why?”
“Just do it, Sam.”
“I can dial 999, but they’ll want to know what it’s about. What shall I say?”
“Tell them there’s a fight going on. Say it’s serious. Life or death. Have you got it?”
Sam nodded. “I think so. 999. Fight on the spoil heaps. DS Spiller from Exeter.”
“Good. Make the call now, Sam. I’ve got to go.” Jay headed for the door. Outside, he checked the alley down the side of the pub, but there was no sign of Kevin, and the street was empty. How could he have got away so fast?
Jay had no idea whether Kevin owned a car, but he’d certainly got a head start. I could go and get my truck, Jay thought. Or maybe someone in the pub would give me a lift. But time was short, and the spoil heaps weren’t all that far away. There was nothing for it. Jay took a breath, then he started running along Fore Street. If he was quick, he’d be there in a few minutes. He just had to hope that he’d be in time.