RAFFERTY OPENED THE door of his flat, kicking aside a belatedly hand-delivered birthday card as he did so. As near total despair as he could ever remember being, he scowled at the mantelpiece and its bright display of family cards that he had opened that morning. Another year older and no smarter, he thought. Age was supposed to bring wisdom; his must have been taken away when they'd whipped out his impacted molars. He'd had the case wrapped up and now...now he was back to square one. Worse, because at least when he'd been at square one the first time round, he'd had hope and enthusiasm. Now, he had neither.
Disgruntled, he took himself and a bottle of Jameson's off to bed. But his dreams were filled with images of fortune-tellers, crystal-ball gazers and tarot-card readers, all predictin
