THE STATION WAS SURPRISINGLY quiet. Even the drunks had stopped shouting when Rafferty’s door creaked, and he looked up.
Llewellyn was standing in the doorway. ‘I saw the light,’ he began.
‘Hallelujah,’ Rafferty muttered. ‘Ma will be pleased.’
‘And wondered if you might still be here.’
‘Oh, I’m here. I’ve been here for hours. The question is where the bloody hell have you been?’ Tired and sickening with the flu as he was, Rafferty found sufficient energy to work himself into a temper. ‘I don’t know. I leave you in charge for a few hours and you bugger off to God knows where without a word, when I—’
‘I did leave a message, sir. With Smales,’ Llewellyn quickly broke in, obviously hoping to end the torrent. It was a singularly unsuccessful hope.
‘Smales?’ Rafferty’s eyes narrowed. ‘Didn
