Guy smiled briefly. It was a smile of singular charm and Rafferty found himself warming to the man.
Caroline said, ‘Guy hasn’t time to take much part in the day-to-day running of the agency. He’s more of a sleeping partner, so it’s good of him to allow his home to be invaded by the agency members when our evenings together are so precious. In fact, it was our wedding anniversary the night of The Elmhurst party. I baked a cake.’
Rafferty remembered it. The cake had been sliced and handed round with some ceremony, like a talisman to marital love. It had been good PR. Shame the cake had been too rich for his taste, though it had provided a much-needed lining to his stomach.
‘I’m a lucky man, Inspector.’ Guy put his arm round Caroline, and smiled down at her. ‘Most wives expect to be taken
