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cold and wet most of them would have been playing out on their own and neighbouring streets and easily able to warn mum and dad of Jaws’ arrival.
    ‘Our victim was killed in broad daylight yet no one saw a thing. Or so they claim. Can his killer really not have appreciated that their tormentor would be quickly replaced? Or did fear and desperation simply cloud their judgement? Was any break from the debt collection, however brief, a welcome respite? Overcome by misery, despair and hatred of their persecutor, did the killer just strike out at the local face of their tormentor when the opportunity presented itself, so that, for once, someone else was the victim?’
    Slowly, Llewellyn nodded his head. ‘Plausible. Desperation can drive people to commit all sorts of illogical acts.’
    ‘Mmm. It would have made more sense if they’d targeted the boss man himself, Malcolm Forbes. A petrol bomb lobbed through his window in the middle of the night, home and office both, would have removed him and the debtors’ records.’
    Instead, the killer — whom Rafferty was convinced must be numbered amongst those who owed Forbes money — had chosen to remove one of Forbes’s collectors. Pointless really.
    It indicated that the killer wasn’t very bright. Unless it meant that Jaws had been murdered for reasons other than debt.
    Rafferty frowned. Was he letting the debtor issue obscure other possibilities? Maybe someone with entirely different motives had used the debtor angle and the recent spate of loan shark muggings for their own ends?
    Which would indicate that their killer might be bright enough to get away with it
    .
     

Chapter Four
    ‘It’s time I got over to Jaws Harrison’s home and broke the news of his death,’ Rafferty said as, regretfully, he metaphorically stubbed out his electronic cigarette. ‘You stay here and carry on reading through those statements,’ he told Llewellyn. ‘I’ll take Lizzie Green with me. You can give me the gist of the rest of them when I get back.’
     
     
    John Jaws Harrison had lived in a small first floor flat off the High Street. A slatternly-looking bleached blonde with a cigarette dangling from her lip, answered the door. Her low-cut top and short skirt made Rafferty wonder if Jaws had done a bit of pimping on the side.
    ‘Yeah? What do you want?’ she asked after they had shown her their IDs. Her expression was sullen and unwelcoming. It seemed police officers were not her favourite people.
    Rafferty braced himself. ‘If we could come in for a few minutes? I’m afraid we have some bad news for you.’
    ‘Bad news? What bad news?’ She stood, arms folded, barring their way, her expression suspicious as if she thought they were trying to gain entry under false pretences.
    Rafferty tried again. ‘It’s about Mr Harrison,’ he began. ‘He–’
    ‘What’s happened to him? Tell me.’ Her thin, bony hands were clenched into fists as if she was considering striking them. ‘If you’ve arrested him—‘
    ‘It’s nothing like that.’ Gently, Rafferty took her arm and persuaded her up the stairs and down the narrow hall to the living room. Once he’d got her seated, he broke the news.
    ‘Dead? He can’t be dead. I only saw him this morning.’
    ‘I’m afraid it’s true, Ms Pulman.’
    She took a few moments to absorb this, then she asked, ‘So how did he die? Did he have an accident in his car?’
    ‘No. I’m afraid we have reason to believe he was murdered.’
    Her eyes with their thick surround of eyeliner and lashings of mascara rounded at this. Then she began to sob loudly and messily.
    ‘I’ll make some tea,’ Lizzie volunteered, to Rafferty’s dismay leaving him with the sobbing woman. He patted Annie Pulman’s stiff back with a tentative hand. But the tea was quickly made and Lizzie was soon back.
    ‘Did Mr Harrison have any enemies that you know of?’ he asked Annie Pulman’s bowed head. It shook in response. Her eye make up had smeared and run,