IN SPITE OF ITS GRAND-sounding name, the Conservation Society was based in a mean little Fifties terraced house, near the recreation ground on the poorer, eastern outskirts of Elmhurst. Its scuffed front door opened straight off the pavement into a similarly scuffed hallway.
The painfully plain, middle-aged woman who opened the door bore all the hallmarks of the committed "Green" campaigner; rope-soled canvas shoes, natural cotton skirt suit, even the "Save the Whale" badge proclaimed her dedication. But Rafferty got the impression her dedication had only grown as other areas of her life had become increasingly barren. Miss Colman wore no wedding ring, and, as he sensed that The Society had come to replace the husband and children that fate had denied her, he knew he would have to tread w
