ALTHOUGH HE KNEW HENRY, the landlord by sight, Rafferty had never needed to go into The Troubadour's bar, on raucous Saturday nights when he was still in uniformed. Henry was a big chap and could handle himself. He ran a well-ordered pub and there was rarely any trouble there.
Rafferty realised that Henry must have inherited his parents' photo gallery of their famous and not so famous patrons when they retired. Many pubs made a feature of such things, though Rafferty had reason to doubt the stars had patronised The George as frequently as the collection of pictures implied. He'd taken Angie there once or twice. She'd been keen to rub shoulders with TV personalities, and, anything for a quiet life, Rafferty had given in and taken her. The meal had cost an arm and a leg, but to Rafferty's r
