AS IT HAPPENED, HE wasn’t destined to enjoy either hot bath or hot toddy. He’d just closed his front door behind him and was loosening his tie preparatory to enjoying both when the phone rang. Now what? he thought, as reluctantly he answered it.
Five minutes later, shocked, he replaced the receiver. Then immediately snatched it up again and dialled the station. As he had expected, Llewellyn was still there.
‘Dafyd? I’ve just had Gerry Nunn on the phone.’ Gerry Nunn was a sergeant on the uniformed side. ‘Amy Glossop’s dead. Murdered, Gerry reckons. We’d better get round there.’
