IT WAS LATE BY THE time Rafferty and Mary Carmody got back to the station. Llewellyn still hadn’t returned. Checking out all the local taxi firms had been a longer job than he’d dared hope. But while Rafferty was happy to keep Llewellyn busy on routine enquiries so as to delay his question and answer session with Nigel, he wasn’t pleased that his own day had proved fruitless. For all the hours they had put in with the dead girls’ friends and families they had learned little of value. It made Rafferty rather heartsick to think they were getting no further forward in finding the real killer. How much longer could he go on telling lie after lie to protect his cousin and himself?
Two young women had been brutally slain. Was he being totally selfish, callous even, in concentrating much of his
