Free Death Dance by Geraldine Evans Page B

admit that you and she were having an affair?’
    ‘Doesn’t look like I’ve got much choice. Yes, we were sleeping together, though there wasn’t a lot of sleeping going on.’ Oldfield grinned again. ‘She was a bit of a goer, Adrienne. I doubt I was her only lover.’
    Rafferty didn’t mention Michael Peacock or the third as yet unidentified male. They were none of Oldfield’s business. Maybe Adrienne had pressed Oldfield harder than he admitted for them to set up home together and it had all gone sour. He had the feeling that Oldfield had a nasty streak and wouldn’t hesitate to resort to physical violence if he thought it necessary.
    ‘How often did you and Mrs Staveley get together for sex?’
    ‘Once or twice a week, depending on my hours.’
    ‘And how long had your affair been going on?’
    ‘Around five months.’
    So only one month after her husband had been made redundant Adrienne had turned to another man for solace. It didn’t say much for her loyalty. But then the transcripts of her diary had already made that more than clear.
    ‘Well, thank you for being so frank. Mr Oldfield. We may need to speak to you again.’
    Oldfield shrugged his sharply suited shoulders. ‘You know where to find me.’
    ‘Yes, we do, don’t we? Come along, Llewellyn, let’s not take up any more of Mr Oldfield’s valuable time.’
    Their car was parked at the kerb right outside the used car lot and they were soon on their way to see Michael Peacock. But this time they were unlucky. He wasn’t home. They would have to come back that evening.
    ‘Let’s get along to the roadside survey team and see how they’re getting on,’ said Rafferty. ‘They might have something by now and I don’t want to wait for them to make their report.’
    The roadside team had a queue of cars lined up awaiting their attention.
    Rafferty parked up and strolled over to the head of the queue where the officers were questioning a lady driver. ‘How’s it going lads?’ he asked.
    ‘Slowly sir,’ said the officer clutching the clipboard. He was new to the team and Rafferty was unable to recall his name. ‘So far no one’s admitted to seeing a car either going or coming from that side road.’
    Rafferty pulled a face. ‘What — nobody at all?’
    The officer shook his head.
    Rafferty had hoped for more as they had precious little to go on. They had a number of contenders for the role of murderer, but, so far, no strong evidence against any of them.
    Rafferty stomped his way back to the car and headed for the station. ‘I suppose I can expect Bradley to bawl me out again when we get back. God, but he’s an unreasonable old bugger.’
    ‘He was ever one for impressing Region with quick results,’ said Llewellyn as he pulled up – unnecessarily in Rafferty’s opinion ––at the amber light showing at the traffic lights, changed into neutral and put the brake on. They could easily have made it through if Llewellyn had only put his foot down.
    It was unlike Llewellyn to criticise others, particularly a senior officer, and Rafferty turned to him in surprise. ‘What brought that on?’
    ‘Perhaps I got out of bed on the wrong side. But I agree with you that Superintendent Bradley can be unreasonable. By his unhelpful attitude he just puts more, unnecessary, pressure on the team.’
    ‘Hallelujah! Finally, I’ve got you to let your hair down and say what you really think of our esteemed leader. Can I have it in writing? I’ll get it framed.’
    ‘It’s never a good idea to put such opinions in writing. One never knows when they’ll come back to haunt one.’
    Rafferty laughed. ‘One’s right,’ he mimicked. ‘One doesn’t. Still,’ he added, ‘it’s good to know you agree with me. It makes me feel better.’
    Superintendent Bradley gave him the expected bawling out, but this time Rafferty took it with a pinch of salt, comforted by the fact that Llewellyn also thought Bradley an unsupportive twat even though he had