Now that the government had decided pipe-smoking while driving was irresponsible, Rafferty had to settle for a ’66 recording of Madam Butterfly to calm his racing mind.

Thank God for Puccini…

As he passed various landmarks en route to his home, he recalled their histories and associated crimes – it was cathartic, looking back at old cases. Each more difficult than the last.

Each one taking another love, another part of him.

Impulsively, Rafferty scrolled through the dashboard phone book, selected Issy and called. Bated breath and three rings.

“Hello?”

That so-familiar voice.

“Issy? Change of plan. Carmen’s on at the Royal Opera, seven o’clock, I’ll see you in our old box.”

“Really?”

He knew that she knew.

And she knew, that he knew, that she knew.

“Quite a step up from the Ram’s Head, Riff-Raff, what’s a girl to do? I’ll dress to dazzle, darling…”

As the line went dead, Rafferty could barely drive straight, let alone notice his ever-diligent receptionist tailing two cars behind.