Chapter Fifteen
THERE WAS NO ONE MORE surprised than Rafferty when something did break. It had been quiet all afternoon. The phone had barely rung, and even Paul Perkins’s flow of information seemed to have dried up. At least he hadn’t mentioned Ma’s name. The last thing he expected was for Bill Beard to ring up from reception to tell him that Mary Sutherland was downstairs and wanted to see him.
‘I’ll come down,’ he said. Curious as to what she wanted, he took the stairs two at a time and hurried through the double doors to reception.
Mary Sutherland was seated on one of the benches lining the wall. She appeared anxious. Her greying hair looked as if she had been running nervous fingers through it. Her face was tense and tight lipped. Rafferty guess that she must have heard from Ian th
