Chapter Twenty-One
Rafferty, his colleagues, and SO19, ready to take the murderer out with their weapons, should it prove necessary, were all in place at the now deserted dig, when Tracey Briggs, driving a nice little sports job, arrived and parked up. They watched, hidden in one of the trenches, while, evidently unnerved by her phone conversation with Rafferty, she sat in her car for a few minutes. Finally, she left the safety of her car, walked from the car parking area on to the dig itself, and looked around her uncertainly.
Rafferty had made sure their vehicles, and those of SO19, were parked half-a-mile away, hidden down one of the many lanes that criss-crossed this area from the days when drovers used to walk their animals to the good London markets.
Matheson was there, too, now f
