Chapter Three
MRS GRIFFITHS MUST have abandoned Henry for long enough to explain what had happened because, ten seconds later, the door to the library was flung open and a vigorous-looking man of about thirty literally erupted into the room. He made the kind of impact that Rafferty – who had undeniably lost face to the housekeeper – could only admire.
The new arrival shut the door and came forward with outstretched hand. 'Inspector? Charles Shore. My housekeeper's just told me the news about Barbara.'
The white lines around Shore's mouth were the only things that betrayed his shock, for his voice was clipped, as if directed by an iron self-control. Rafferty's hand was pumped in a painful, iron grip, and as he flexed his crushed hand, he wondered if Shore approached everything in life wi
