‘THE DRUG SQUAD?’
Rafferty and Llewellyn had said goodbye to Daniels and made their way back to the car.
‘Yeah. They think the dead man might be a certain Joey Briggs.’ Rafferty climbed in the driver’s seat, waited till Llewellyn had got in the passenger side, and held out his hand for the keys. With an air of reluctance, Llewellyn handed them over. ‘I’m well safe to drive now, even by your reckoning.’
Llewellyn ignored that. ‘Only think?’
‘They said he hasn’t been a customer of theirs for at least six years. Last they heard, they said, was that he’d gone abroad. Gone to take his nasty habits to the drug capitals of Europe, I suppose.’ Rafferty started the car. ‘And you said yourself what damage drugs do to the appearance.’ They bumped slowly up the farmer’s rutted track to the main ro
