THE ROADS WERE BUSY. The welcome bright sunshine had brought people out of their homes. Unfortunately, it meant their journey was stop/start nearly all the way. Rafferty restrained his impatience. But eventually they reached Bazza Lomond’s home. His mother opened the door and led them upstairs to her son’s bedroom.
Bazza was playing some violent game on his computer and showed a marked reluctance to be torn away from it to answer their questions. But eventually his mother persuaded him to abandon the game and help them, although at first he was inclined to be sulky.
‘Tell me, Bazza,’ Rafferty asked when he had got his attention, his mother making encouraging noises in the background. ‘How did Mr Forbes seem when you saw him on the day of the murder?’
‘Seem? How do you mean? I don’t know
