Chapter Eighteen
He was right.
‘It’s not good enough, Rafferty,’ Superintendent Bradley told him. ‘Have you got anywhere—anywhere at all?’
Rafferty tried dumb insolence. And it worked. At least till Bradley’s next question.
‘What about Lodge? Anything there? Have you managed to get another word out of him?’
The Superintendent’s expression and repetition told him that he thought this unlikely, and when Rafferty told briefly, ‘No,’ he managed to stare down his contemptuous gaze.
Bradley had come out from behind his desk to hear his report. Or to confront him, which was nearer the mark. But now he returned to sit on his throne and studied him with a beady eye. ‘You’ve got some other suspects at least. Have you managed to get any more out of them?’
He waited for Rafferty to admit yet mo
