Read Online Death Dance by Geraldine Evans - Free Book Online

nothing all day has made me tired. It’s the frustration that does it.’
    They had a lazy, relaxed evening in front of the television and went to bed before ten.
     
     
    The next morning Rafferty was again up early. He brought Abra her tea and drank his own sitting at the kitchen table. He left for work earlier than usual and for once arrived before Llewellyn. He stopped off at the canteen and got the teas in for a change. When he entered his office it was to a text from Llewellyn to say that Maureen’s car wouldn’t start, he was giving her a life to work and was it all right if he came in late?
    Rafferty texted him back with a smiley wearing a big, toothy, grin. It matched the one Rafferty wore.
    The estate agent rang him just after nine and told him that their viewer of the previous night had been in touch and had made an offer. It was a good one, not far off the asking price and Rafferty was happy to accept it.
    Llewellyn arrived shortly after, a little flustered and showing evidence of having recently encountered an oily rag. It was so unusual to see his dapper sergeant looking anything but impeccible, that Rafferty sat and stared.
    Llewellyn hated to be late. His tea was cold by now. With an apology and a ‘good morning’, to Rafferty, he took the mug of cold tea to dispose of it in the toilet. He was soon back with two fresh brews and he set to with a determined air, speed-reading. as though to make up for lost time.
    Rafferty sipped his tea and watched him through slitted eyes, amused to see the calm Welshman something less than his invariably collected self, before he returned to his own pile of reports. But again there was nothing of interest. The case seemed to be stalemated.
    The forensic reports were in. Adrienne Staveley’s fingernails didn’t contain her attacker’s skin under them. A number of fingerprints were found in the kitchen, including those of Gary Oldfield and Michael Peacock – their prints taken as part of the usual routine – as well as several unknown ones. One lot probably belonged to the Staveleys’ neighbour; she’d been asked her to come into the station to have her prints taken. Rafferty had also put out a request for any other visitors to the house to come forward
    He’d yet to look through Adrienne Staveley’s personal effects; something he must organise as a priority. With this thought in mind, he summoned Gerry Hanks, borrowed Timothy Smales from uniformed, and gave them instructions to search the Staveleys’ house with particular emphasis on Adrienne’s bedroom where a lot of the action presumably occurred. That done, he sat back and contemplated what else he had yet to do.
    He‘d told Hanks to ask John Staveley for a recent photograph of Adrienne for circulation to the media, keen to discover if Adrienne had any other lovers. They needed to find out the names of all her friends and acquaintances so they could begin elimination. It could be there was someone, several someone’s, in her life of whom they were unaware. Rafferty wanted to have all the bases covered rather than simply concentrate their efforts on the current crop of suspects when it might have been an entire unknown who had killed her.
    ‘Helen Ayling told us that Adrienne was a woman who liked to flirt,’ he mused to Llewellyn. ‘Maybe she went too far in her flirting while withholding her favours to one of the men in her life.’
    ‘It’s a possibility,’ Llewellyn conceded. ‘But so far, it doesn’t appear Mrs Staveley was a woman who much went in for favour witholding, so we shouldn’t rule out anything yet.’
    ‘I’m not ruling anything out, Rafferty insisted. I’m keeping an open mind.’
    Llewellyn’s lips tilted fractionally upwards at this and Rafferty scowled.
    ‘I am,’ he insisted. ‘But it’s always advisable to consider the victim’s character — it often points to the reason for their murder.’
    ‘I don’t disagree. Mrs Staveley’s character is an important aspect.