CHRIST, thought Rafferty, as he lay in bed that night, suddenly wide awake. John Staveley had his house up for sale. How had he missed Edith Staveley’s reference to this earlier? It could be important.
They’d thought all along that Adrienne Staveley had known her attacker. But supposing she hadn’t, and had only let her assailant in because she was expecting someone? Someone like a possible house purchaser.
Rafferty felt an urge to get up, dressed and drive himself over to John Staveley’s house to question him on the matter. But a glance at the luminous clock on the bedside table told him it was three o’clock in the morning, and he subsided back on his pillows. No way could he go waking the household up, particularly when it contained Staveley’s recently assaulted mother, who would surely
