Death Surge (16 page)

Dennings piped up: ‘This gang might not be at Cowes.’

But Horton answered. ‘They are, because Johnnie disappeared here and not on route from Sardinia, or in Sardinia.’ Addressing Sawyer he said, ‘Has it occurred to you that, like Sergeant Cantelli says, Johnnie could be innocent and was coming here to tell his uncle what he suspected and has been killed as a result?’

Sawyer lifted a slender shoulder as if to say
possibly
, but Horton could see he didn’t believe that. Cantelli’s body stiffened and his fists clenched.

‘You don’t seem to have got very far with your investigations,’ Horton said with acidity.

‘This is a very clever gang.’

If someone had followed Johnnie here with the purpose of killing him then they’d had four days to do so and would have cleared out long before now. ‘And what about when Johnnie was here in July? Do you think he was meeting with a member of this gang to brief them about a possible target?’ And he wondered whether that target had been Lord Eames, or someone the Intelligence Directorate had set up in order to trap the gang – only it hadn’t come off because the gang had got wind of it and of the fact that Johnnie was a liability. ‘You must have had Johnnie watched in July.’

Sawyer answered. ‘We did, but he gave us the slip. It wasn’t Agent Eames. There’s no record of him travelling to Portsmouth on the sixteenth of July by any of the ferry services, so whomever he met was on the Island or picked him up by private boat.’

Cantelli shook his head in sorrow and disbelief.

Horton addressed Eames. Harshly, he said, ‘Any robberies in this area in July while
Calista
and Johnnie were here?’

‘No.’

‘Did you ask Andreadis to phone Masefield to wish him luck, to see what he’d say? Or was that just a fluke and an inconvenient one?’

A fluke, he reckoned. Sawyer gave nothing away though, and Eames remained silent. Horton persisted. ‘And Masefield had to say Johnnie wasn’t there so he had to go through the motions of reporting him missing. And you still hope to catch them! I doubt they’d be stupid enough to carry out a robbery now,’ he scoffed.

‘No,’ Sawyer said regretfully.

Sharply, Cantelli said, ‘Have you considered that Xander Andreadis himself could be behind these robberies? He’s the one who sent Johnnie here. Perhaps he did so to get rid of him.’

Bliss said, ‘I hardly think Andreadis, a billionaire, needs the money.’

‘How do you know?’ Cantelli turned on her. ‘The dire economic conditions in Greece could have affected him badly. His businesses could be in trouble. And he has a certain standard to maintain. He might be desperate.’

Sawyer interjected, holding up a slender hand to silence Bliss, who snapped her mouth shut quickly, ‘We have people looking into his finances. And I mean looking.’ He paused before continuing: ‘The first robbery occurred on the twenty-ninth of September, which means it was planned sometime before that. Have you, Sergeant Cantelli, or any of your family noticed any change in Johnnie over the last year?’

Cantelli shook his head.

Horton didn’t think Cantelli would tell Sawyer if there had been, but Cantelli would tell
him
,
and maybe Sawyer knew that. Gently, but with an edge of firmness in his voice, Sawyer said, ‘This must be difficult for you, Sergeant. Being emotionally involved in an investigation is never easy. Things can get distorted, coloured by personal feelings, and it’s not always easy to see straight or accept that things are not how you thought or would like them to be. We all believe we can keep ourselves detached, that we’re professionals, but we’re also human.’

Horton wondered whether Sawyer was. As Sawyer had addressed Cantelli, Horton had got the uneasy feeling that he was really talking to him. The room was silent. Tension filled the air. After a moment Cantelli said crisply, ‘I can handle it, sir.’

‘Good, because we need you to liaise with your family. You could unearth vital information. Talk to them, find out everything you can about what Johnnie said to anyone, who he sent texts or who he emailed over the last year eighteen months, who he sent photographs to, what kind of photographs. What he said or didn’t say.’

Cantelli gave a curt nod, his expression serious.

Sawyer continued: ‘We’ve confirmed his ticket was surrendered at the Hard railway station. His mobile phone records will be with us today.’

Horton said, ‘If the body is that of Johnnie, why kill him now, why set fire to it, and why there?’

‘That’s what we intend to establish,’ Sawyer said smoothly. He nodded at Uckfield, who hauled himself up. ‘DC Marsden, along with the information analyst, will work on the phone records. DCI Bliss will oversee both investigations, working with me.’

Horton didn’t think Uckfield would be too pleased about that but guessed the order had come from ACC Dean via Sawyer. ‘DI Dennings will follow up the investigations into Oslow’s disappearance, collate everything that comes in from it and liaise with Agent Eames – who will also act as liaison between here and the European operation. Sergeant Trueman will oversee all operations in the Major Crime Suite, including that of our victim. Inspector Horton, you will follow up any leads concerning the body at Hilsea Lines; Walters will assist.’

Horton said, ‘We need a team conducting a house-to-house in the area. The killer and victim must have arrived by car. Someone might have seen it, or it could still be in the area.’

Trueman nodded. He’d organize that.

Horton added, ‘Do we go with a public appeal on Johnnie?’

Sawyer answered: ‘Not yet.’

Horton was thankful for that.

Uckfield dismissed the team and returned to his office with Sawyer and Bliss in tow. Harriet Eames turned to address Trueman.

In the corridor outside, Cantelli addressed Horton. Morosely, he said, ‘They want me out of the way.’

‘Of course they do,’ Horton replied as they headed down the stairs, with Walters following them. ‘But Sawyer’s got a point. You might pick up something from the family, even if it seems insignificant.’

‘Do you believe them about Johnnie being involved in these robberies?’

Did he? He recalled what Eames had said to him on his boat on Saturday night about Johnnie having been led astray once and posing the possibility he could have been again. She’d been considering the jewellery thefts and probing him to see if Johnnie might have said or hinted at it to Cantelli. He’d been used by her, and he didn’t much care for it.

Cantelli continued, ‘I can’t believe he’d do such a thing.’ Then he added despondently, ‘But then I couldn’t believe he’d commit arson.’

‘There’s a lot we don’t know, Barney, and this is all just speculation at the moment. They’ve got no hard evidence he’s involved.’

‘Maybe they have and they’re not telling us everything.’

That was highly likely, but he didn’t say. Cantelli hurried off to get details of Johnnie’s dentist.

On his return to CID Horton wondered if he might get more out of Sawyer alone. He might even do a trade off. His help on pooling what he had on his mother’s disappearance and volunteering to act as bait for Zeus in exchange for Sawyer’s full cooperation on Johnnie’s disappearance. He wasn’t sure it would work though, and the information Amos had given him, in the envelope nestling against his chest, might knock Sawyer’s theory of Zeus right out of the window. He hoped so. He was tempted to open it. He knew he should, but he couldn’t, not here. He wanted to be alone, and he also knew that part of him was dreading it. He didn’t want to know what was inside the envelope for fear that it would change things forever.

Walters had returned to his desk, his computer and his sandwich.

‘Anything?’ Horton asked, referring to the images on the computer screen that Walters was studying.

‘Nothing so far. And no arsonists on the files matching the pattern of this incident, or anyone in the photos, but I’m still wading through them.’

He left Walters to it and headed for his office, his brain whirling with this new information that Sawyer and Eames had tossed into the pot. He was supposed to be investigating the death at the Hilsea Lines, but everything that could be done was being done. And what if it were Johnnie? What if Sawyer and Eames were right and Johnnie was mixed up in the robberies? But if Johnnie had discovered something illegal and was an innocent victim in this then what would he have done? Confided in his uncle? Possibly. As had already been suggested, perhaps he’d been on his way to do that and had been kidnapped and killed. Was there anyone else he was close to who he could have sought help from? Yes, there was, he suddenly realized. A man who Johnnie owed a great deal to. One who had been like a father to him. And, injected with new energy, Horton grabbed his helmet and jacket and hurried out, calling to Walters to contact him if he came up with anything.

‘A
ndy, it’s good to see you.’ The square-set, grey-haired man beamed as he rose from behind a desk more cluttered with paperwork than Horton’s and stretched out a large hand. Horton took the firm grasp and felt flattered by Don Winscom’s genuinely warm welcome. He also felt guilty that he’d not been to see him for some months, and neither had he done anything to help the sailing charity he ran except to send along a few wayward boys and a couple of girls. ‘Or should I be wary because you’re here on business?’

‘I am, but it’s nothing to do with any of your current crew.’

‘I’m glad to hear that. Have you got time for a coffee? We could go to Hardy’s and grab one. There’s hardly enough room to swing a cat in this beach hut of an office.’

Horton agreed. The café bar and bistro was just a few steps away and despite it doing a brisk trade they found a vacant table overlooking the marina across the road.

‘I’d like to talk to you about Johnnie Oslow,’ Horton said, taking a sip of his coffee.

‘Sergeant Cantelli’s nephew?’

‘Yes. This mustn’t go any further at the moment, but he’s gone missing and we’re very concerned about him.’

‘Good God. I thought he was working for Xander Andreadis.’

‘He is, but he arrived in Portsmouth last Wednesday for Cowes Week and hasn’t been seen since. When was the last time you heard from him?’

‘Must be about a year ago.’

Horton felt the disappointment keenly. He’d been banking on getting a break here, but that now seemed unlikely.

‘He came to see me when he was home visiting his mother. He went out for a sail on one of our yachts. Is he in trouble?’ Winscom asked, his big malleable face creasing up with concern.

‘I don’t know. He might be. I was wondering if he’d confided in you.’

Winscom shook his head and drank his tea.

So, dead end. But Horton wasn’t going to give up yet. He said, ‘When Johnnie was on the sailing courses here and during the time he worked as skipper for you, was he close to anyone? A girlfriend, or someone he went drinking with?’

Winscom considered this. ‘I don’t remember anyone. He was very popular, but he was also very determined to work hard and put the past behind him. His experience of being convicted and getting a suspended sentence shook him up considerably.’

Horton knew that and was convinced that Johnnie couldn’t have willingly returned to crime. ‘Did he ever talk about the gang he went around with?’

‘No. It was as though he wanted to obliterate them from his mind. In fact he didn’t talk about the past at all. He concentrated hard on the sailing and then passing his Competent Crew and Day Skipper exams. I was sorry to see him go, but it was time he moved on.’

‘How did he get the job with Andreadis?’

‘We entered a couple of teams at Cowes and Johnnie’s team won every race he entered by a long head. He was approached by Andreadis himself, who was also there that year, racing. Is he there now?’

‘No, but he’s got a team entered, the one that Johnnie was due to sail with; Scott Masefield’s the skipper.’

‘Masefield? Well, that figures.’

‘How?’ asked Horton, surprised. ‘You know him?’

‘I should. He spent some time with us.’

Horton didn’t bother to disguise his interest, why should he? But he hid his suspicions: yet another link with Masefield. Had Masefield struck up a friendship with Johnnie based on this common background in order to pump Johnnie for inside information on Andreadis’s wealthy friends?

‘Tell me about Masefield,’ he said, sitting forward.

‘He was referred to us by the services’ community health department.’ Winscom put down his mug. ‘Over the last two years the charity’s remit has expanded to include rehabilitating veterans and serving officers experiencing mental health issues. We get quite a few who find sailing works as a therapy to help them overcome their problems. It doesn’t work for everyone, but we’ve had some successes and Masefield was certainly more successful than even I had anticipated.’

Horton caught a hint of bitterness behind Winscom’s words, or was it regret?

‘We get a fee,’ Winscom continued, ‘which is very welcome, but times are difficult, finances are tight. That’s why we haven’t entered any boats for Cowes this year. We’ve lost a sizeable proportion of our government funding because of these wretched austerity cuts, which don’t seem to be doing much except making everything worse. And like many charities we’re fighting for the small amount of money from an ever-dwindling pot because of the recession.’

Horton thought it was about time the station did something to help raise money for them. He made a mental note to act on it.

Winscom continued: ‘We’re fortunate that we have some very wealthy and generous patrons, individual businessmen who support us, otherwise we would be up the creek without the proverbial paddle. Xander Andreadis
was
one of our supporters until last year when he switched his funds to a new sailing venture. A very worthy one, but …’

‘Damaged ex-servicemen and Scott Masefield’s proposition,’ answered Horton. This visit was turning out to be worthwhile after all.

‘Yes. I don’t begrudge him the money, and I wish him well with his venture. I just wish that Xander Andreadis hadn’t decided to switch all of his charitable funds towards it and leave us in the cold. But then Xander is a businessman and Masefield can be very persuasive.’