Epilogue
*
LLEWELLYN AND MAUREEN’S wedding day dawned clear, bright and sunny; a perfect spring day in fact, which, considering it was still only March, was a miracle. Doubly so, as not only autumn, but winter, too, had borne more than a passing resemblance to India’s monsoon season.
Wryly, Rafferty shook his head as he pulled up outside the groom’s flat and adjusted the buttonhole in his hastily-purchased new suit. Whoever had said that the sun shone on the righteous hadn’t got it quite right, he thought. Now, if he’d said the sun shone on the self-righteous he’d have hit the bull dead centre.
He walked up Llewellyn’s path and gave a fancy rat-tat-tat on his front door. When Llewellyn answered, Rafferty was surprised to see that his sergeant’s face was a beautiful pea-green - thinking
