The bruiser took objection to Christina taking photographs of him when he was in the company of the likes of Michael and he began remonstrating in a high-pitched squeaky voice. Christina's plight did not receive the usual response from the onlookers when brave, gallant knaves, always eager to come to the aid of a damsel in distress, are abounding.
But, as it happened, there was a team of plasterers upstairs who were finishing off the alterations to the GENTS. It further happened that one of them was wheeling his barrow through the lounge along the plastic strip laid on the deep purple lush carpet to fetch another load of pink plaster. Pink Himalayan pink in fact, in honour of the weed so named which was introduced into England by some exotic flouncer and is now threatening to wipe out more delicate and traditional flowers.
"You can't talk to a lady like that", the lad said to the bruiser pushing his well splattered cap further up his forehead. "Who can't? the bruiser said menancingly, "what the bleep does it having to do with a snivelling little bleeping bleep like you to tell me how I bleeping talk to bleepers. Bleep off you bleeping bleep." The plasterer's gopher took a swing at him and the bruiser caught his arm and tossed the lad over his shoulder. He landed on a table full of glasses with a crash and the plasterers all appeared. The bruiser drew his Derringer and started waving it about. Christina cowered in the corner behind the bar. Somebody ran out and told two cops and when they appeared they had their shooters out ready and as soon as they saw the bruiser threatening a crowd of innocent American citizens they opened up. When the smoke cleared and the clientele peeped round the tables they had hid behind they saw two bodies. Michael was shot through the head by one of the bullets that had passed through the bruiser; the number of which could be counted by the holes in the back of his tuxedo jacket.
After the meat wagons had gone O'Flannahan of Homicide arrived and began his enquiries. Christina was taken down the the precinct station for questioning and her camera confiscated. She was taken into O'Flannahan's office, given a cup of coffee from the dispenser, and asked to wait until the detective in charge came back from the scene of the incident and had made a statement to the slavering hacks who believe there's another story going on beneath the veil of appearances.
She went back and forth over various stories to tell but each one had a drawback to it. When O'Flannahan arrived after a couple of hours she asked to see a lawyer.