"I" said the thirsty customer, "am Trent. Graham Trent". He turned once more to Johnny Swift behind the bar and said impatiently, "And I'm still waiting for my pint, Geordie !" After slaking his thirst with a gargantuan pull on his pint of Velocity..."The Lager for Men in a Hurry" he returned his attention to the quietly seething Detective at his side. "And you'd stand more chance of catching the murderer of my old mate Reggie Dixon if you weren't in here, Mr. Yaxley Farcett". Yaxley resisted the urge to throw his beer over Trent. Instead he asked through gritted teeth, "You knew Mr.Dixon well then ?" "Oh Yes, didn't I Mr.Ricketts. Me and Mr.Dixon were very well aquainted. Have you heard what my line of business is, Mr.Farcett ?" Yaxley groaned. Just what he needed, a monolgue about how this man had got where he is today. "No. I haven't had the pleasure of this information yet. Do tell me". Trent finished his pint, rattled his glass on the bar, and said, "I, Mr.Farcett, am the Editor of "Ealham on The Net" the electronic news gathering service for The Fens. Reggie Dixon was my Agricultural Correspondent until a fortnight ago". He gave a passable imitation of someone looking mildy upset and added, "We go back a long way, me and Reggie". Yaxley frowned at this latest piece of news. He'd been a fan of 'Twin Peaks' years before and he was starting to get the strangest feeling that he was actually in it now. Graham Trent quickly drained his second pint of Velocity and slapped Yaxley on the back. Hard. "Well. I can't hang about here all night. I've got things to do. If I can help you in any way, just say the word" With that Trent billowed out of the door. Just before it had time to slam behind him, he stuck his head back inside, and shouted with a emotionally racked voice, "Reggie was a good man. He had a Spurkerling Parsonality !"
When the door finally shut behind Trent, Yaxley turned to Fred Ricketts and blew out his cheeks, "Strooth, Fred ! I should have taken your warning and not got involved. Is he always like that ?" Ricketts nodded sagely. "Yup. I'm 'fraid ee is. Our Mr.Trent fancies his self a bit. A bloody big 'ed I reckon". Yaxley thought about what Trent had said for a second and said "Hang on a minute, Fred. Did he say that Dixon had worked for him until a couple of weeks ago ? Do you know what happened ?"
"Well", replied Ricketts. "far as I can tell, they got on like a bloody 'ouse on fire for a start until Reg started to get a bit too clever for his own good. Trent wanted him to write about farming and the countryside. While Reg stuck to pheasants and broad beans it were alright". Ricketts took another slow pull on his pint and carried on, " But then the silly bugger got bored and started to write what he wanted and Trent didn't like it. Last straw were when Reg gave way to his Cliff Richard obssession and started up his own "Harry Webb Site".
Just then the door opened and in walked Fiona Morgan, looking jaw droppingly, pant stretchingly gorgeous.
