Chapter Eight
LATER THAT AFTERNOON, after Rafferty had downed several cups of tea, each of them singularly failing to provide any inspiration at all, Llewellyn cautiously nosed the car out of the back exit of the police station. Turning right into Bread Street he took a short cut towards the southern outskirts of Elmhurst, carefully avoiding East Hill and its road works. But for once Llewellyn's usual efficiency must have deserted him, for they were held up for five minutes at the level crossing in Church Road as, surprisingly dead on time, the express from Liverpool Street Station roared past.
'Should have taken Station Road and gone under the bridge,' Rafferty informed the Welshman. After pointedly sighing, frowning at the crossing barrier and looking at his watch, Rafferty finally gla
