He nodded his shaven head, scratched where his ear had been, and showed a set of very white even teeth.
‘Never forget a kisser. Yuh come in here fifty yars from now and I’d remember ya. Fact.’
I thought it wasn’t likely either of us would live that long, but I didn’t say so.
‘Wonderful how some people remember faces,’ I said. ‘Wish I could. Meet a man one day, walk through him the next. Bad for business.’
‘Yah,’ the barman said. ‘Guy came in yesterday; ain’t been in here for three yars. Give him a pint of old ale before he could ask for it. Always drank old ale. That’s memory.’
If he had served me old ale without asking me I wouldn’t have argued with him. He didn’t look as if he had a lot of patience with people who argued.
‘Test your memory on this one,’ I said. ‘Tall, thin, broad-shouldered. Wears a fawn suit and a white felt hat. Seen him around here?’
The squat, heavy body stiffened. The battered, hairy face hardened.
‘It ain’t smart to ask questions in dis joint, brother,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘If yuh don’t want to lose yu front teeth, better keep yu yap shut.’
I drank some beer while I eyed him over the rim of the glass.