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IT WAS MUCH LATER THAT day, after Ellen Kemp and her friends had been brought to the station and charged, when Rafferty and Llewellyn were getting ready to go home, that the phone rang. Rafferty had been prepared to let it ring, but Llewellyn, never one to ignore duty's call, picked it up. The conversation didn't take long.
'Guess who that was,' he invited Rafferty once he’d put the ‘phone down.
Rafferty shrugged.
'Remember our travelling salesman who noted and lost the registration number of the Zephyr?'
Rafferty nodded.
'He's finally found the piece of paper and surprise, surprise—'
'It's the same as that on Sinead Fay's car,' Rafferty finished for him. Llewellyn nodded. 'Pity he didn't manage to find it before.'
'If he had we may well have concentrated our attention more strongly on them and never got beyond the fact of their involvement. If Frank Massey hadn't begun to feel he was our number one suspect and gone missing, we might never have learned about his and Elizabeth Probyn's youthful liaison, you would never have begun to wonder about that liaison, and about the strange limit to the photographs of the daughter that no one seemed to know anything about and what exactly was the matter with her and why.'
Rafferty wasn't sure he wouldn't have preferred it that way. But he kept the opinion to himself. It wasn't the sort of thing a police inspector should bruit about.
At least the telephone call had succeeded in breaking the melancholy silence that the discovery of the truth and Elizabeth Probyn's painful confession had brought because Llewellyn went on. 'By the way, thanks for the advice.'
'Advice?' Rafferty's head began to thump as his hangover returned. Oh God, he hadn’t been dishing out more of the stuff, had he? He could hardly believe it after all the anxieties the last lot had caused him. Trouble was, he couldn't remember. Half suspicious, half wary, he stared at his sergeant, trying to discern the emotions behind the impassive countenance; never an easy task at the best of times, especially when Llewellyn was indulging his love of irony at his expense. And, in the past, Rafferty's unasked for and carelessly handed out pearls of wisdom had had a painful boomerang tendency that had only served to encourage the Welshman's withering wit. 'All right,' he muttered, 'out with it. What have I done this time?'
'You advised me to pop the question.'
Rafferty took a deep breath and asked, 'So what happened?'
'It was a beautiful night, still and silent, made for poetry, for declarations of love and—'
'For God's sake, Dafyd, can you cull your inner poet and just tell me what happened!'
Llewellyn's long face almost split into a grin. 'I asked her. She said yes.'
Thank God for that. Rafferty breathed a sigh of relief. The next minute, qualms forgotten, he clapped Llewellyn on the back. 'There—what did I tell you? Trust your old Agony Uncle Joseph to know what's what. Now you can start worrying about how much it's all going to cost. First it'll be the engagement ring, then—'
Llewellyn shook his head. 'Maureen doesn't believe in such things. She—'
Rafferty held up his hands. 'Don't tell me. She thinks engagement rings are symbols of male oppression, right?' A ring through the nose of 'Daisy' the cow, Rafferty repeated irreverently to himself.
Llewellyn nodded.
'Jammy devil. Mind, I wouldn't bet on such luck lasting. Wait till that mother of hers gets to work on her. That woman's got to have something to boast about. Bet you a fiver you end up paying for a stone that Liz Taylor would envy.'
Before Llewellyn could remind him that he didn’t bet, Rafferty thrust his chair back and pulled on his coat. 'Anyway, you can worry about that later. Now, I think it's time you bought the matchmaker a drink. We'll pop into the Green Man. It's not every day my sergeant gets himself engaged, with or without the ring.'
It wasn't every day you arrested a Chief Crown Prosecutor either, he reminded himself. He wasn't sure whether the drink for that would be a celebratory one or a drowning of sorrows.
'So when's the happy day planned?' he asked as they walked out to the car.
'Not for some time. It doesn't do to rush these things. Though,' Llewellyn gave a faint smile, 'as your mother has bought her hat and has also found me the most wonderful new suit, I don't think we ought to disappoint her too long.'
'A new suit?' Rafferty queried, as an uneasy memory stirred.
'Yes, your mother showed it to me after you left last night.' Llewellyn smiled. ‘She asked me not to mention it to you. She said she didn’t have another one to fit you. Perhaps she thought you’d be jealous? But I don’t suppose she’ll mind me mentioning it. Not in the circumstances. Not with you being the one to bring Maureen and me together. And it really is of a marvellous quality. And surprisingly reasonable. Your mother really has got an eye for a bargain.'
Rafferty gave him a sickly smile. 'Hasn't she though?'
The End
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