On the way to the Red Cow – the bar where June Sanders used to work -, Kate was replaying Julian’s last few words in her head.

“Most people around here did not like her. But murder? That’s a bit harsh. Find out who loved her, and you will find who hated her enough.” That’s not exactly how Mrs. Foster put it, but close enough.

She thought of love. Matt. It almost didn’t hurt anymore. One day he just had enough. He said he loved her too much so he had to leave. He chose to let her go rather than spend his days waiting for her, not knowing when, or if she is even going to come home that night. Sometimes when she was on an assignment, away for days, Matt went crazy. He wanted her to quit. To stop chasing drug dealers and murderers, and do something more sensible. Maybe work in an office, where the worst thing that could happen is a papercut, or a burnt tongue from a coffee that was too hot. Where her work is not a secret and she could share it with him. Kate just wanted someone to be there for her when she got home after a tiring day, but she understood now how it must have felt for Matt not knowing anything about her life. They lasted for two years. Two beautiful years that was probably torture for him.

As the car pulled up in front of the red building she snapped back to the present.

“Did you say something?”, she turned to Ben, vaguely aware of hearing his voice just now.

“Daydreaming?” he smiled. He always smiled. At everyone. Even in the interrogation room, he was capable of pulling his signature smile out of nowhere, putting everyone at ease, making people feel safe, cozy. What amazed Kate was that his smile was genuine, not just a pretend.

“Sorry”, she replied, “my mind was wandering.”

“I just said Ellers texted. They are nearly done going through June’s house. They did not find anything particularly interesting but they recovered her diary, and a few bank statements that we ought to look at.”

“Oh… I see.”

From the outside the Red Cow looked like a barn. This must have been a theme around here as Ben recalled they just drove past another bar which looked just like this one, only blue. The owner of that one couldn’t even be bothered coming up with a proper name for it, it was just called The Barn.

The door to the Red Cow was closed, but Ben could see movement inside. A man, appearing to be in his thirties, was at the bar was wiping glasses, jerking his head every now and then to get his long brown hair out of his face. When Ben knocked, the man looked up and mouthed the words “Sorry, we are not open yet.” Ben in return just showed him his badge through the glass and mouthed back his answer, “Police.” The bartender carefully placed his kitchen towel on the counter and walked to the door, while fishing around in his jacket pocket, probably for his keys.

“That was quick”, he said when he opened the door. His voice was raspy, like he spent the previous night smoking and drinking. Considering where he worked, that was not an unlikely option.

“I beg your pardon?”, Ben said, raising his eyebrows. He and Kate entered when the man motioned them inside.

“You are here about June”, the man replied. It was not a question. “I’m Tim Hawkes, manager of the place. I’m her boss. I mean I was. I was notified around 11, and figured you will show up soon.”

An apologetic half smile appeared on his face, but his eyes remained cheerless. He steered them to the bar and picked up his dish towel again, folded and unfolded it absently.

“Not exactly what you expected, eh?”, Tim said, noting Ben looking around. When Ben shrugged, he continued. “I swear most of the locals think this is some sort of a brothel where all morals are forgotten and every night is a different orgy. But it’s just a normal bar as you can see. That door behind you leads to the gent’s, not to a torture chamber.”

Ben stifled a laugh. “You must agree it’s a strange place to open up a high class bar like this…”

The bar manager shrugged. “As good place as any, if you ask me. But let me tell you this”, he said leaning closer. He did not whisper, but it was not his normal tone either. “Most of our clients like this sort of privacy if you catch my drift. It wouldn’t do them much good being seen with their business partners where everyone knows them. So they come here, and rent one of our VIP rooms for the meetings… Obviously having beautiful girls working here does not hurt either.”

Ben decided to let this comment slip without comment for now. This is not why they were here. So instead, he asked, “Were you two close with June?”

Tim sighed. “Yeah, we can say we were. But not the way you think”, he added, noting the curious look that passed between the two detectives. “I’ve known her for nearly ten years. When I was still just a bartender… she was so young, that was her first job. Then we drifted apart for a while, but when this place opened, I knew I’ll need someone like her. If you knew her, you’d know what I’m talking about. She was such a bubbly girl, the clients loved her. Even at nearly thirty, they were still crazy about her, and paid double to have her for a private dance.” His eyes clouded – although Ben was not sure whether it was for the loss of a friend, or the potentially lost revenue – and he turned away to fidget with some bottles on the shelf. He stayed behind the bar where he probably felt most comfortable.

“Did she work last night?”, Ben asked, pulling out her notebook. Kate shifted uncomfortably on the bar stool next to him.

“No, not last night”, Tim shook his head. “It was one of those rare occasions when she had the Friday and Saturday off. She really wanted to go to that concert last night, so I let her go. I think it probably had to do with that new boyfriend of hers. David. She talked a lot about him. They’ve only been going out for a couple of months, but I think she was in love with him. He came here a few times, seemed like a decent guy, but I never understood what exactly she saw in him.”

“What do you mean?”

Tim shrugged and passed a hand over his brows. He did not reply for a moment. “I don’t know. I couldn’t really put my finger on it. It was just something I thought odd. Sure he loved showing off his new trophy girlfriend, but that was all. I don’t think he was into her otherwise. If you know what I mean. June was a beautiful girl, she could have gotten any man. But she chose this… this…”

When he did not continue Ben looked at him encouragingly. “Yes? He was, what?”

“Well, it’s not a nice thing to say, I didn’t even know this guy that well. But he always came across a loser. If you catch my meaning.”

“That’s certainly one way of describing someone”, Ben agreed, “but I’m afraid you would need to give us a bit more details.”

Tim threw his arms up in the air. “Dude’s like 35, and still lives with his mom. I’m having a hard time to understand the appeal, that’s all. I knew some of the guys June used to date. I’m not saying they were all top class, but some of them appeared quite all right, and at least they were not your typical mama’s boy.”

Ben suddenly saw in his mind the lemon faced Mrs. Foster standing on the porch and cringed inwardly.

“What was Miss Sanders’ position here? Was she a barmaid?”, Kate asked.

Tim seemed to find this amusing. “She was my assistant manager”, he replied. “Although you probably think that’s just a glorified barmaid. In a way it probably is. We all work behind the bar just the same, but June and I were also taking care of suppliers, deliveries and the staff.”

“Money?”, came the question from Ben.

“Yeah, that too. We both had access to the money. Obviously.”

“Were you here last night?”

Tim held up his palms. “Look, I had nothing do with this!”

Ben kept his eyes on the manager. “I never said you had. We just need to know all the details.”

The other man seemed somewhat relieved, the tension from his shoulders gone. “I left around 10 and drove home. You can check with my neighbour. I popped in for a beer.” When Ben took down the details of said neighbour, Tim continued. “You should probably ask these questions to her boyfriend anyway.”

There was a crashing sound coming from the stairs behind them and they all turned to see a woman on her knees, pieces of a broken cup around her.

“Are you all right there?”, Ben jumped up from his seat.

“Yes, no worries”, the woman sounded annoyed as she picked up the last remaining piece of her cup and hurried upstairs, her long auburn hair swinging from side to side.