Chapter Eleven
It was the following day before they finally got around to checking the students’ alibis.
Frascati’s restaurant, where Sebastian Carlton worked, was clearly an up-market establishment, with starched cloth napery, heavy cutlery, and with wine coolers placed at each table. Rafferty and a subdued Llewellyn stood by the front door and watched as assiduous waiters poured discreetly from bottles draped in yet more napery. The place was busy, filled with the lunchtime crowd.
They made their way to the pay-desk. It was staffed by an attractive young woman with frantically curling hair, which she had tried, with limited success, to restrain with an Alice Band. She wore the uniform of a short-sleeved white t-shirt, with the restaurant’s name discreetly on the chest. The name badge
