They nodded in unison, and while Llewellyn proceeded to draw her out, talking knowledgeably of photography in that reserved manner that women seemed to find so endearing, Rafferty let his mind and his eyes roam. Astell had told him she had adored her father even though he had neglected her. Rafferty could see why. The photograph was of a man in his prime, self-assured, good-looking, and vigorous. A man who turned heads and attracted admirers with no effort at all. A man who was perhaps a little spoilt, a little selfish, but understandably so. A fast-living extrovert, Carstairs, when he wasn't racing round the world snapping the famous of the day, had been the subject of other photographers' lenses. Newspaper snaps of him had invariably featured him in some exotic part of the world, beautif
