THE MINUTES WERE TICKING away towards 10.30, the time appointed for his return home, but it was only ten past when Rafferty told the team he’d see them later and made for his car. He couldn’t concentrate and the interviews he’d had with the reunees were just a reiteration of what had gone before: they’d seen nothing; heard nothing, had no idea who had killed Sophie Diaz. But at least the suspect list hadn’t increased as the same people as before were in the frame. He’d already fixed his time off with Llewellyn, so he made for home, wondering what the rest of the day held. At least – unless Abra was goaded beyond bearing – it should be free of murders.
Cyrus, unsurprisingly, had organised the day out for them all. The City, of all places not to be on a steaming hot day, their destination.
