Rafferty & Llewellyn Boxed Set Books 9--12 by Geraldine Evans

Author:Geraldine Evans
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery fiction, funny mysteries in series, british mystery, boxed set of mystery ebooks, murder mystery, cozy mysteries, Murder Mystery Series, mystery novels, Mystery Anthology, funny mysteries in boxed set, detective fiction, male detectives, traditional detectives, british detectives, british detective series, series detective novels, detective series, detective series with family drama
Publisher: Geraldine Evans
Published: 2017-01-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Two

In spite of the deceptively pretty name of Primrose Avenue, the road beside the alley where the murder had happened, contained nothing more decorative than weeds, of which there was a fine collection.

Not surprising really, given the torrential rain. Rafferty struggled to keep the umbrella aloft in the high wind as it was almost torn from his grasp. Primrose Avenue was in a run-down area of Elmhurst on the southern outskirts of the town, the houses mostly rented from the Council or from Buy-to-Let private landlords, with unofficial lodgers taken in to help pay the rent. Here lived Elmhurst’s low-end population: the single mothers, the unemployed and unemployable, people in their fifties unable to find work, pensioners, the chronically sick and so on. The ‘deserving poor’, he supposed was how Llewellyn would describe them, if asked. But Rafferty had no intention of asking and inviting a lecture on this or any other subject.

The dead man had been attacked in the alleyway that ran behind the left-hand-side row of terraced houses. Both the alley and the houses ended in a high brick wall belonging to a canning factory so were effectively cul-de-sacs.

Their cadaver had clearly been robbed as Smales had confirmed there was no wallet or mobile phone on his body nor any other means of easy identification. He lay, partially on his side. His face, from what Rafferty could see of it, bore a surprised look. He had been struck from behind and then his attacker had continued to rain down blows on his head, though fortunately, they had mostly been to the back of his skull so they should have less trouble identifying him than might otherwise have been the case.

Rafferty huddled into his thin raincoat and prayed for summer to arrive as he stared at the dead man’s face. He couldn’t but help think that this new investigation was somehow Llewellyn’s fault. If he hadn’t said that today looked likely to be quiet maybe they wouldn’t be standing out in a howling gale with him doing a poor man’s rendition of Singing in the Rain. But without the singing. Or the dancing, unless the jig of his raincoat counted. ‘You know,’ he said to Llewellyn, a smidgeon of blame in his voice that he knew was unfair, ‘Lizzie Green thought the victim was a John Harrison who works for Malcolm Forbes. I think she's right.’ It was the confirmation he had feared ever since Smales’ phone call.

Llewellyn nodded. ‘I thought that, too.'

Malcolm “The Enforcer” Forbes, was one of the local loan sharks, a business he ran from the back room of his pawnbroker’s shop. ‘The victim's nicknamed “Jaws”, if I remember rightly. And not only on account of his gnashers.’ The large, protruding teeth should have provided him with the dead man’s ID immediately. With such a face, he looked particularly suited to the job of loan shark’s gofer. His was a familiar face in the neighbourhood. John “Jaws” Harrison was something of a poacher turned gamekeeper.

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