Love Lies Bleeding Read Online Free Page B

as a formal dining room nearly as large, with a long, dark table that could seat ten; a breakfast room at the back, on the sunny side of the house, its used dishes from the morning of Raine's death still on the table; and a smaller study across the hall from the dining room, which facts Rafferty's quick door-opening and closing revealed as he searched for the kitchen.
    The fourth door Rafferty tried led down a short passage to the kitchen. Another door off to the left led into the breakfast room, he saw as he poked his head through.
    He glanced round the kitchen. Instantly, his gaze lit on the knife block. It was sitting on one of the expensive-looking solid-oak kitchen units that lined the walls. There was one knife missing, he noted; the rest of the set matched the largest one that was currently protruding from Raymond Raine's chest. The decorative brass-work on the kitchen knives was visible above the wooden block and was the same pattern as on the murder weapon.
    Rafferty called out to Adrian Appleby, the head of the Scene of Crime team, and told him to get the knife block and its contents photographed
in situ
and then bagged up.
    Appleby nodded and shouted through to Lance Edwards, the police photographer.
    While Lance began to take some shots of the knives Rafferty gazed out of the kitchen window. Beyond the large, plant-filled and obviously modern addition of the Victorian-style conservatory that led off the kitchen and breakfast room, he could see the well-stocked garden, its end lapped by the waters of the River Tiffey.
    Apart from the hushed conversations of his colleagues in the kitchen and living room, all he could hear was the sound of birdsong through the open window. And as he absorbed the glories of nature to counterbalance the pictures in his head, a grey heron, with a beguiling grace given its long legs, landed on the opposite bank of the river. Rafferty held his breath for a moment's delight in the midst of horror, before marvelling that murder — and such a murder — had occurred at this tranquil spot; the setting looked like a veritable Garden of Eden. But clearly it was an Eden no longer. The snake had done its work well.
    Across the river, the heron raised its slender head. It stood motionless for some moments as if taking stock. Perhaps it had caught the taint of blood and death wafted towards it on the light breeze, for it immediately took wing, flapping its way into flight in a leisurely manner as it uttered a deep, harsh
krau.
Airborne, it tucked its legs behind it as elegantly as a ballerina before vanishing as suddenly as it had appeared.
    Rafferty, reminded by the bird's sudden flight that he too ought to get moving, touched Llewellyn's arm and said, ‘Let's make a start getting the team organised. If Mrs Raine does retract her confession, we'll need letters, bank statements, et cetera, anything that might provide evidence as to the state of the Raines’ marriage. Oh, and see if you can find an address book with the family and friends listed. But you know the drill.’
    Llewellyn nodded and made for the kitchen door.
    Rafferty called after him before he disappeared. “I'll be with Sam’ — no doubt, he groaned to himself, given the state of the body, he would be regaled with a selection of Sam Dally's more black-humoured observations. ‘I'll see you out front when we've both done here.’ He paused. ‘By the way, I meant to ask if you noticed that cottage we passed, twenty yards closer to the main road?
    Llewellyn nodded.
    ‘I shall want to have a word with the occupants as a matter of urgency. They may be able to tell us something useful. With the two houses isolated together in the lane, maybe the close proximity encouraged a greater intimacy than most modern-day neighbours manage.’
    Llewellyn nodded again and disappeared.
    Rafferty strolled slowly back through the house before thrusting his head through the doorway into the living room, where Sam Dally had just finished his