The bar was a long, wide place with no sign of imagination from the interior architect whatsoever. Across the front door in the back stood the long fake-oak bar. There were twenty completely identical tables, ten at one wall and ten at another, each with four also identical chairs.

'This place is more sterile than a hospital,' whispered Sarah and Blake nodded. He had seen a lot of pubs and bars and restaurants that were made specifically for the tourists, but this one had to be in the top ten.

Three of the tables were occupied. At the first sat four young men, shocked and still pretty drunk looking: the remaining members of the stag-do. Two tables away, wrapped in a blanket a young brunette girl cried quietly. Another woman, dressed in black pants, white shirt and an apron were gently patting her back. The rest of the staff settled at a third table, next to the entrance. They seemed equally tired and scared.

'Is there a place we could talk to anyone alone, one by one?' asked Blake from Detective Novak.

'You talk to Dorka, I'm there,' said Detective Zelezny before the policewoman could answer the question.

'With all due respect, that is not your call,' pointed out Sarah.

The huge man looked down at the woman with real anger in his eyes.

'I promise that we won't treat her as a suspect,' said Blake, stepping between them. 'We just need to know what happened.'

'This is my case,' said Zelezny. 'You are just helping.'

'The MAGE has jurisdiction all over Europe, Honza,' Novak said. 'If they want, it's their case.'

The man answered something in their own language. Blake looked at Sarah, who shrugged: none of them spoke Czech. Novak replied. Zelezny said something else then walked away angrily.

'I'm sorry, agents,' the woman said, looking after her partner, who dumped himself down at a table. 'He is a good cop, but he can be very emotional sometimes.'

'If there is a personal interest or relationship, he should be removed from the case,' noted Sarah.

'He is the head of homicide,' shrugged Novak. 'You can always talk to the President, but…'

'President?' asked Sarah with a confused look.

'The PCR doesn't have a commissioner, it has a Police President,' explained Blake. 'Apart from the name, it's pretty much the same though. But let's move on for now. Where did you land with him, Detective Novak, after all? Do I have to pull rank if I want to question Miss Vesely alone?'

'Probably not,' the woman said. 'He said he will ask the President why the two of you are here, however.’

The head of the police of Prague didn't have any more power over them than Zelezny himself, but Blake just shrugged.

‘Let's start with the Brits,’ suggested Sarah. ‘Maybe he will calm down with some time.’

Blake nodded and walked up to the table with the four men.

The four gentlemen were pretty much useless. They all have said the same: they arrived around eight, had dinner, then started to drink hard, because that's what a stag-do suppose to be, right? During the evening, the victim, George "picked up" a girl who was there with another group. When Ms Vesely's friends left, around two in the morning, she stayed behind with George and his group. Then the two of them left together, around three or four. George said he was going to "walk home" the girl, which meant they will going to have sex, at least according the gentlemen. None of them noticed anything weird, and George was a lady's man anyway: he always closed the evenings like that. He hadn't encountered anyone unfriendly while they were in Prague and he didn't have any enemies either; he was a great guy.

The staff of the bar wanted to help, but they couldn't. In the early evening, they were busy with the customers, and later on, they were busy with cleaning: in hospitality, there were never enough people on the shift, they had no time to keep an eye out. They affirmed what the Britons have told, as much as they could.

At last, it was time to interview Dorka Vesely. She was a pretty girl with long brown hair and beautiful blue eyes which were red from crying now. Her make-up was all messed-up. The girl wore a too big hoodie with the letters "PCR" on it. Even though every eye witness claimed that she came back to the bar after she left with Mr Clarke covered by blood, she was clean now. Detective Zelezny let her change and wash up, which was a nice and human thing to do but was a huge mistake from a police officer. As Dorka cleared herself, she destroyed potential evidence by the dozen.

The staffroom they ranked up to be the interview room only had two chairs, so Blake stayed on his feet and leaned to the wall next to the door. Along the wall, there were little blue lockers, mostly open, and a porcelain sink with a frameless mirror above it. The tap was dripping.

'Can you please tell us what happened tonight?' asked Sarah. She was sitting in front of the other woman, on the remaining chair, legs crossed neatly. 'From the beginning.'

'Sure. Yes. So we came in with friends… Three of us, just to eat something and have a beer before we go somewhere where we could dance,' she spoke slowly and clearly, with the same accent as the officers. She avoided eye contact and was looking at her hands in her lap.

'Was one of those friends Detective Zelezny's daughter?' asked Blake.

'Helenka?' asked back the girl. 'Yes, she was here, but she left early. We… Had a little fight. She said I was too friendly with a stranger and that it's dangerous for a girl… I guess if your father is a policeman you are more… Careful?'

'Sure,' nodded Sarah. 'So she didn't like George?'

'They didn't even speak, I think,' shook her head Dorka. 'No, it was more like a general thing.'

'Right. You can never be too careful, right?' said Sarah.

'I guess,' shrugged Dorka. 'So she left and Teresa went with her… Teresa is our friend, you see. I decided to stay.'

'Because of George?' asked Sarah.

'Yeah, I guess… I mean, I wasn't into dancing that much anyway, and British accent is my weakness and he was buying drinks for me, and his friends were kinda nice too... I think one of them is getting married, but I forgot which one.'

'So you stayed and talked about… What?'

'Nothing, really, he was telling me about London… I've never been there and I always wanted to, it looks so beautiful in the movies… That kinda stuff. It was drunk, I think and he was handsome and that accent…'

'So you were the one who came up with the idea of leaving?' asked Blake. He had a little notebook, not unlike the one Detective Novak used.

'It wasn't like that… I mean, I did ask him to walk me home, yeah…'

'Did you have any hidden intent with that, Miss Vesely?' wanted to know Blake.

The girl looked at Sarah, who nodded.

'It's okay, we are not here to judge you. We are just trying to figure out what happened,' the woman said in an assuring voice.

'Okay, so… Yeah, I wanted him to walk me home because I wanted to sleep with him. I mean, I don't have a boyfriend or anything, there is nothing wrong with that, right?'

'That is true, you didn't do anything wrong,' nodded Blake. 'Did you know that he was about to leave the city?'

Dorka bobbed her head quickly.

'Yeah, they told me they were going home tomorrow… Today, sorry. But I was like, it's okay, I wasn't looking for a husband if you know what I mean… Plus, you never know, we exchanged numbers...'

'I see,’ said Blake. 'So you left… Via the back door?'

'Yeah, you see, if we were leaving in the front, we would have to walk around the whole street, so we went out back. If we… If we were using the front door, he might be still…'

The girl broke down crying. The agents waited until the worst was over, Sarah even gave her a tissue.

'Sorry…' Dorka said, wiping her eyes.

'It's all right. So what happened in the alley, can you tell us? Take your time,' Blake walked up to Sarah's chair now and put his hand on the back of it.

'He was… He was a little impatient. We started to make out in the alley, but he tried… He tried to unbutton my pants. It's not like I didn't want it, you know, but not there, it was dark but not that dark, anyone could see us… So I said no, let's go to my place, but he didn't stop so I tried to push him away, and then…' she looked like she was going to cry again, but she took a deep breath and continued. 'So I tried to push him away and I said something, like leave me alone or something, I don't remember, and then he shouted, I don’t remember what and there was something big in the alley with us, and there was blood, so much blood, and I ran away, back to the bar and when his friends went to see what happened he was already dead…'

'So you didn't see the killer?' asked Blake.

Dorka shook her head.

'I saw claws… And…' she hesitated.

'And?' asked Sarah gently.

'You know those old horror stories where vampires turn into giant bat-like things? With the big leather wings?'

Sarah nodded with a kind smile.

'I know it sounds weird and Uncle Honza said it's not possible, and I shouldn't tell anyone, but I was sure that the killer had those wing things…'