Henrietta and Charles got into one of the cars, and Erika saw that Shawn and his friends were already halfway along the promenade, and the courtyard was almost empty.
‘She’s a no-show,’ said Moss, barely able to disguise the irritation in her voice. Erika checked her phone again, and her Facebook messenger. There was nothing.
‘Let’s go to that pub, just on the off-chance,’ she said.
Erika and Moss walked the short journey to the Brewer’s Arms. When they arrived, it was just past midday, and only a quarter full, and that quarter was mainly mourners. It was a huge saloon-style pub with two big bay windows looking out over the beach. A storm was brewing on the horizon, and the Pavilion Theatre looked like it was hunkering down over the water at the end of the pier, where a huge flock of seagulls were huddled, perching on the vast curved roof. The mourners had spread out over the space, and the radio was playing music softly in the background. A couple of lads in their twenties were playing pool in the corner, and an elderly gent was pushing coins into a fruit machine. His pint rested on the top of the machine, and plastic bags of shopping were pooled at his feet.
They went up to the bar, and Moss ordered them two cokes. Erika scanned the pub. Cilla was sitting with Colin and the other gentleman in armchairs by the bay window around a big table. The light was reflecting off her red hair. There was a group of four other students, two young men and two young women, who were sitting at the table chatting to Colin and the other man. Cilla and the other man got up and came over to the bar.
‘Hello, officers,’ she said. ‘This is my colleague, Ray. He teaches dance at GDA.’
‘Hiya, you all right?’ he said with a thick cockney accent. Cilla leant forward and ordered two vodka and cokes and a half of Guinness from the barmaid.
‘What kind of dance do you choreograph?’ asked Moss.
‘All sorts,’ he said, looking them both up and down. He had a sexuality about him that Erika couldn’t pin down. Did he like men, or women, or both?
‘Were you a dancer?’ asked Erika.
‘Back in the day.’ He grinned. He had a rather imposing set of tombstone teeth, and a missing right incisor, which wasn’t unattractive, but when he smiled it changed his face from sinister to a little goofy. The barman handed Moss their two cokes and she turned to pay.
‘Did you know Vicky Clarke well?’
He pursed his lips and shook his head.
‘She never did dance classes at GDA. I knew her through Cil and Col,’ he said, scratching above his eye as he spoke. Erika saw he wore several silver bracelets on his right wrist.
Cilla paid for the drinks and then handed Ray the half of Guinness. She went back to the table carrying the remaining drinks, and Ray turned to leave.
‘Could I just ask you a couple more questions?’
He took a sip of his drink and licked the foam off his upper lip.
‘This is a wake, officer.’
Erika wanted to reply that it wasn’t quite yet the wake, but she forced a smile on her face.
‘Just quickly. Did you come back down to London with Colin and Cilla, on the 24th October?’ asked Erika.
’You should know the answer to that. I spoke to one of your officers on the phone a couple of weeks ago.’
‘We know you stayed up in Scotland.’
He took another sip of his drink and nodded.
‘Why?’
‘Dog sitting. Cil has a dog, Nutmeg, I looked after for a week until Cil’s neighbour got back from holiday. Do you have any more penetrating questions?’ He smiled.
‘That’s all, thank you,’ said Erika.
He gave her a mocking little salute, his bracelets jangling, and walked back to the table.
‘Here’s your coke,’ said Moss, handing her a glass and taking a sip.
‘Thanks,’ said Erika, taking a long pull and savouring the lovely cold, sweet fizziness.
‘He was a bit cocky.’
‘Yes, but he has an alibi for Vicky’s murder. And no motive that we know of to kill Sophia,’ said Erika in a low voice. The main door into the bar was partitioned off with a screen of coloured glass, and the door squealed and light filled the room as Henrietta and Charles arrived, looking a little windswept. Charles now had on a black trilby which matched Henrietta’s, and they looked a little like secret agents on an over-sixties holiday, thought Erika.
‘What do you want to do?’ asked Moss, scanning the room. ‘It’s like the who’s who of our case in here.’
In the opposite corner, Erika noticed two young women that she hadn’t seen in the church. They were both small and slender with long dark hair. They were standing next to a juke box, with their coats over their arms, and cradling bottles of Budweiser. The group of students around Colin and Cilla was growing, and they were getting quite rowdy and drawing the oxygen out of the room. The girls exchanged a look and the one whose hair was tied back pulled out her mobile phone and made a call.