IT WAS LATER THAT WEEK when Rafferty learned the one piece of good news to come his way since Bill Beard had broken his happiness bubble. And it came courtesy of Superintendent Bradley of all people. Although Rafferty felt sorry for Harry Simpson, he was relieved to learn that the fates should have played into his hands so swiftly.
‘So, with Harry Simpson gone off on long-term sick leave, the Lonely Hearts case is now your baby.’ Brusque as only a true Yorkshire-man can be, Bradley dumped a pile of files about the murders on Rafferty’s desk. ‘Familiarise yourself. Go and see Simpson and pick his brains, see what he’s been keeping to himself. When’s Llewellyn back from honeymoon?’
‘Monday.’
‘You can have him on the team.’ Bradley gave what for him passed for a smile. ‘Posh lot at that da
