IT WAS A FEW DAYS LATER. Rafferty had rushed off Joanna Douglas’s hair to the forensic laboratory requesting it be prioritised and he was pleased when Llewellyn told him they had some results in. Llewellyn frowned as he took in the name on the report and looked at him from narrowed brown eyes.
‘Joanna Douglas? I presume she’s a relative of Ms Alice Douglas?’
‘That’s right. Her nearly eighteen-year-old daughter.’ Rafferty buried his head in paperwork to avoid Llewellyn’s accusing eyes.
‘When did you obtain strands of her hair? You never mentioned you were doing so.’
‘Didn’t I? Must have slipped my mind.’ He threw his pen down on the paperwork and leaned back as he decided to brazen it out. Casually, he said, ‘So who’s her father?’
Stiffly, Llewellyn placed the report on Rafferty’s des
