Changes

Thursday, 10th October 1996

Danny Allegro considered himself a regular at the White Wolf. Always a genuine, warm welcome; always a conversation to be joined; always good beer and spirits. Tonight was little different; his friend Bryan had obviously moved down to Devon like he always said he would "to run a smaller pub", and although it had been a number of months since his last visit, he felt relaxed. He had some business in Tavistock coming up and could track Bryan down then; tonight it was just him and the Wolf.

From his stool at the bar, he talked sporadically with the new landlord, a tall, golemic lump of a man from Cardiff named Tom. "I like the timbers," said Danny, indicating the stout oaks straddling the ceiling. "Where did you get those from?"
"Got those put up in the spring," Tom replied, stacking the empties on the bar. "Found them in the cellars. Good nick. Old. Sturdy."
"How do you think they got there?" Danny asked innocently, sipping his Guinness. Guinness agreed with Danny; since his stomach was sewn back up after the nasty business along the Auchtertour Road, he couldn't drink gassy beers. And he didn't miss them.
"Reckon they were up there before. Long ago." Tom the Landlord switched on the glass rinser; the TV in the corner went fuzzy, causing the football watchers to tut and curse. He turned the rinser off, and normal service was resumed. "Old pub, you know. Historic."
"Mmm, I know, I've been coming here a while." Something stirred in the cuffs of Danny's coat, he ignored it.
"Building's at least three hundred years old. Built when the old place burnt down. Same foundations. Pub. Same name."
Danny smiled at the thought of the old pub burning down, the landlord running outside with his doxy wench, cursing the jack o'lantern bastard who torched his livelihood.
"Thomas Grigg." mouthed Danny to himself. Then to Tom; "The last landlord told me; Thomas Grigg ran the White Wolf when it burnt down in 1686. Bryan knew a lot about this place, did he tell you any of it?"
"Never met him, sad to say."
"You should get in touch with him. He's a Guinness man, brilliant storyteller, great laugh. I ..." Tom was staring at him.
"You didn't hear about Mr McGovan, then. I'm sorry."
"What?"
-
Danny didn't say much for the rest of the night. "Suspicious circumstances". He thought Bryan had just moved to a different pub, he used to say as much. Landlords come and go at the White Wolf, but he'd known this one and trusted him. And Danny Allegro didn't have many friends left. Nobody knew as much about him as Bryan had.

Suspicious circumstances.

It was almost closing time.