RAFFERTY SET OFF FOR The Elmhurst Hotel the following morning as soon as he’d read the latest reports and before Superintendent Bradley could collar him for an update on the murder investigation.
It was another bright sunny day and he was chirpy as he drove from the station, whistling as he made his way to The Elmhurst. He was pleased with life and his own initiative. Get the Elmhurst Hotel organised for the reception at cost or less and he’d be well in Abra’s good books. And if he could get the rest sorted, too, she’d think he was Mr Wonderful. He began singing “I’m H.A.P.P.Y, I’m H.A.P.P.Y, I know I am, I’m sure I am, I’m H.A.P.P.Y.”
The manager was in the middle of sorting out a minor crisis when he arrived, but Rafferty said he was willing to wait. He gazed around the plush reception
