Chapter Nine
RAFFERTY AND LLEWELLYN glanced at one another then sat down again. Rafferty wondered how much more tittle-tattle Amy Glossop had stored in her mouse-brown head. He suddenly felt impelled to warn her that if she knew anything else that might be damaging to a possible murderer she ought to tell them now.
But she insisted there was nothing else. He wasn’t sure he believed her.
‘When was this argument?’ he asked.
Amy Glossop paused as if considering. Rafferty guessed this was for show. She probably knew to the minute and had hugged the information to herself since she had known of Barstaple’s murder. ‘It was last Friday. After everybody else had gone home.’ Her bright brown eyes narrowed. ‘I suppose Mr Gallagher waited till then so there would be no witnesses. He didn’t count
