THE NEXT MORNING FOUND Rafferty loitering with intent outside Boots the Chemist, waiting for the store to open. As soon as it did, he hurried across to the perfume counter, and attracted the attention of one of the over-made-up young assistants. ‘I’m looking for a very strong perfume,’ he told her, when she had dragged herself away from a gossiping coterie of colleagues.
She gave him an odd look, and it struck Rafferty that she probably thought he was some sort of pervert.’
‘Did you have anything particular in mind?’
‘No. Just show me your strongest perfumes. It’s for a gift,’ he hurriedly told her, not wishing to subject himself to her likely youthful scorn if he revealed he hoped the scent of a perfume would lead him to a killer. ‘It’s for my great-aunt, who has a poor sense of smell.
