Shroud of Evil (19 page)

‘So you did. You were staying at Eames’ house with Tammy Freiding. So how did you get Chas Foxton as a client? It’s hardly the circle CID moved in.’

‘No, but James Westrop was, and he recommended me to Chas. You remember Westrop, wealthy entrepreneur, had his place turned over in North Hampshire and his daughter kidnapped and ransomed.’

Horton did. It had been a frantic case, a race against the clock to save a sixteen-year-old girl, and they’d succeeded, or rather Danby had, by working out the perpetrator had been a boyfriend she’d met at a music festival. He’d then set a successful trap for him. Fleur Westrop had been returned to her family unharmed and shortly after that Danby had been offered a lucrative job working for Westrop, which he’d agreed to take but as a consultant not an employee.

‘James and Chas are friends. They were also then business associates but Chas has since diversified into festivals and concerts all around the world. He’s been a client for four years and James for eight, and if I don’t get a move on I won’t get this next potential client.’

As they picked up their pace Horton asked Danby how soon after meeting Kenton he’d got his first referral from him for close protection work.

‘Almost immediately. That was Naughton, as I said. Then Jasper referred another former colleague who used to work with him at Finecare Pharmaceutical. He’s a top medical consultant and no it’s not Brett Veerman.’

‘But he might know Brett Veerman,’ Horton said quickly. ‘And he might know something about Veerman and passed that information on to Kenton.’

Danby frowned as though he hadn’t considered this and was annoyed with himself for not making the possible connection. ‘I’ll ask him and let you know.’

Horton would have preferred to interview this consultant himself but he could see that Danby wasn’t going to permit that.

‘What’s his name?’

Danby halted by the large complex of buildings. ‘I’ll give it to you,
if
he claims to know Veerman.’

‘OK.’ But Danby knew he’d be able to get that from Bliss.

Horton let Danby go to his appointment. He returned to the station where he was about to make for the incident suite, wondering what Uckfield had got from Bliss, when his name was bellowed and he turned to see the squat figure of the Superintendent at the foot of the stairs. Uckfield jerked his head in the direction of the canteen leaving Horton to follow.

Uckfield bought himself a cooked breakfast and a coffee and splashed out on a coffee for Horton. They took a table at the far end of the busy canteen.

‘Anything from forensics on the sail?’ Horton asked.

‘Not yet,’ Uckfield answered, shovelling in a mouthful of baked beans. To Horton he didn’t seem particularly bothered. Usually the big man would be hopping mad at the delay and bellowing down the phone for something.

‘What about the pistol crossbow?’

‘Marsden and PC Kate Somerfield are doing the rounds of all the archery clubs in the area, collecting names of members and asking about pistol crossbows. We’ll match them against the names Bliss has got.’

So she’d handed them over last night. ‘And they are?’ Horton asked eagerly.

‘Natalie Jameson, she’s being employed as a nanny to a professional couple’s first child. They live just outside Arundel and work in London. He’s a civil servant, she’s an accountant. Kenton was running a background check on the nanny to make sure she wasn’t a dope pusher or user.’

‘Any connection with the Isle of Wight?’

‘None.’

‘And?’

‘George Swanton, who’s suing his employer for breach of Health and Safety regulations after suffering an accident at work. The owners are disputing it and suspect that Swanton set it up. And before you ask there is no connection with the Isle of Wight for them or the other investigation Kenton was working on, which is tracing the assets of a wealthy businessman, Norman Clayton, whose divorced wife claims he’s hidden them from her and the courts so that he doesn’t have to pay her the alimony she’s entitled to.’

‘Has he?’

‘Kenton discovered a bank account in the Cayman Islands. He’d reported it to Eunice Swallows but they hadn’t given the client that information yet. Clayton’s in America so he’s off the list. And Trueman took a call earlier this morning from the Met who said that Watling was in a business meeting until nine o’clock Thursday night and then went for a drink and something to eat with a colleague. They’re checking it out but I think he’s in the clear, and he doesn’t own a boat.’

‘So Veerman’s still our best bet. Unless Kenton’s death is connected with one of his previous investigations.’

‘Bliss is looking at that now.’

Horton took a sip of coffee. ‘What are the Swallows business finances like?’

‘In good health according to the accounts filed at Companies House. Trueman’s now got access to Kenton’s two bank accounts, his credit card and three savings accounts. It will take some time to trace all the transactions but the accounts all show a healthy balance and that Kenton was drawing a reasonable salary from the business. The property in Emsworth belonged to him outright, there’s no mortgage on it and he purchased it four years ago when he moved from London, where he owned an apartment in Battersea. So he’d have quite a stash of money to splash around. Everything seems in order, no unusual payments coming in or going out.’

‘How are the staff taking the news of their boss’s death?’

Uckfield bit into a sausage. ‘Mary Wiggins, the office manager, says Kenton was polite, quiet and thorough.’

‘There’s that word again.’

‘Eh?’

‘Thorough. And the two men?’ Horton recalled them huddled over their computers.

‘Douglas Mead and Peter Snell both considered Kenton to have been clever. They respected him, said that what he didn’t know about computers wasn’t worth knowing.’

Which bore out what Danby had said. Horton told Uckfield where he’d been and why and gave him a brief account of his conversation with Danby, adding this time, ‘Veerman could be involved in a drugs scam.’

‘With this alleged lover,’ Uckfield sneered.

‘Why not? Or alone.’ Horton thought he’d leave out any reference to it possibly connecting with Europol and Harriet Eames. That might be one step too far for Uckfield at the moment in his deaf, cynical mood, which, Horton suspected, had been induced by his need to keep the hierarchy happy and not ruin his future promotion prospects.

‘We should find out who this medical consultant is and see if there is a connection with Brett Veerman. Can’t leave everything to Mike Danby.’

Uckfield sniffed and wiped up the last of his fried egg with a piece of bacon. ‘OK. I’ll get Bliss on to it.’

Horton continued, ‘How sure are we of Eunice Swallows?’ If Bliss was her friend then how much was she confiding in her?

‘What do you mean?’ Uckfield eyed him beadily.

‘Maybe she wanted to ditch Kenton and had help from Mead or Snell.’

‘She’s got an alibi.’

‘Yes?’

‘A rock-solid one. She and DCI Bliss were enjoying a girls’ night out. They went for a meal and a drink together.’

‘Didn’t know they were that close.’

Uckfield narrowed his eyes but said nothing, making Horton wonder if there was more to Bliss’s relationship with Eunice Swallows than friendship, and if she’d told Uckfield that. Whatever the depths of their relationship it didn’t prove that Eunice Swallows was sound. She could still be involved in Kenton’s death.

Uckfield wiped his mouth with a paper serviette and said, ‘None of the staff have any connection with the Isle of Wight either.’

‘Perhaps they don’t have to. They used Kenton’s boat to get across there and just dumped his body where they thought would be best. Have we checked if any of them can handle a boat?’

Uckfield looked as though he wanted to say
do we have to
.

Horton added, ‘And their alibis for Thursday night and Friday morning?’

‘They’re not serious contenders.’

‘Why not? For all we know Mary Wiggins could have been having an affair with Jasper Kenton and her husband decided to kill him.’

‘She’s not married.’

‘Then Kenton could have discovered something about her past, or Eunice Swallows’ past, a secret she’d rather not have exposed. Have we looked into that?’ Before Uckfield could answer, Horton swiftly continued, ‘Or it could be something that either Snell or Mead didn’t want coming out. Mary Wiggins or Eunice Swallows could be Brett Veerman’s lover and his accomplice.’

‘You are kidding.’ Uckfield eyed Horton incredulously.

‘Am I?’ Horton knew that Uckfield hadn’t seen Mary Wiggins, and as far as he was aware he hadn’t met Eunice Swallows either. OK, so Horton thought both unlikely lovers for Veerman but there could be other reasons why any one of them could have wanted Kenton dead. ‘Has Dean given you authorization to question Brett Veerman about his movements on Thursday night or to question his colleagues at the hospital?’

‘Not yet.’ Uckfield shifted in his seat.

‘Thought so,’ muttered Horton. Probably still trying to clear it with His bloody Lordship. ‘Did Eunice, or any of the others, know that Kenton owned a boat?’

‘Eunice Swallows didn’t. Bliss is going to check with the others, but she can hardly go firing off questions all at once. It will take time.’

There was that word again, thought Horton with irritation. Time to spin this out and therefore time for the investigation to go cold or the killer to meet with an accident, if Eames and his cronies were involved. Perhaps Eames and his bosses already knew who the killer was and had known all along. They had seen him depositing Kenton’s body. They didn’t want this killer found. The investigation would have to go through the motions but if it was stalled and delayed for as long as possible eventually the trail would go cold. Helpful of Kenton to have as the only living close relative a sister who didn’t care for her brother. No one to kick up a fuss. Or perhaps the killer would be dealt with in a different way. The MI5 way. That either meant death or disappearance, or both. The body of the beachcomber would be found washed up somewhere,
if
he was the killer. And Horton sincerely hoped he wasn’t.

‘Wouldn’t it be easier and quicker, Steve, if we treated this for what it is, a major murder enquiry, formerly questioned everyone and publicly checked their alibis, instead of tiptoeing around like everyone’s made of glass?’

Uckfield sat forward, his voice low. ‘Yes, it bloody well would, but until I’m told that, I’ve got no option.’

‘On Lord Eames’ say so,’ scoffed Horton. ‘How do we know he’s not up to his aristocratic eyebrows in Kenton’s death? Yeah, I know, because he’s in Russia so he can’t possibly be involved. Has anyone checked he is actually there?’

Uckfield opened his mouth but before a sound could escape from it Horton continued, ‘No, I didn’t think so. He could have flown home, bumped off Kenton and flown back.’

‘Don’t talk bollocks.’

‘He might have hired someone to kill Kenton.’

‘Why the bloody hell should he do that?’ Uckfield cried.

‘Why don’t we ask him? Oh, we can’t, I forgot. He’s in Russia and we can’t afford to fly you out there.’

‘Look, I don’t like this any more than you do but we have to go along with it.’

‘
You
do.’

‘And so do you.’

‘Do I, Steve?’ Horton eyed him closely. Why this private briefing? Why the update as soon as he’d entered the station? Was it Uckfield’s idea or had Uckfield been told to keep him informed? And if so why? To see what he did, of course. To see if he owned up to being on Eames’ estate and to seeing the beachcomber, Lomas. Horton was getting the distinct impression that no one wanted him to mention Lomas. Were Uckfield’s orders coming from someone even higher up the food chain than Eames, from his bosses in MI5?

Uckfield scraped back his chair and lifted his tray. ‘Please yourself. You’re not part of my team.’ He studied Horton closely. He got the message.

As they headed out of the canteen Horton said in a lighter tone, ‘I’m going over to the island to tell Brother Norman that the two thieves who stole from the abbey have been sentenced.’

‘Fine, you do that.’

Uckfield would know Horton had another purpose to his visit. The Super hadn’t given him official permission to speak to Thelma Veerman and Horton knew why – in case it backfired on him. That was Uckfield’s way and Bliss’s, but she wasn’t here, thankfully, so he didn’t need to make any excuses to her. First though he wanted to check in with Walters.

‘It’s still all quiet on the restaurant attacks,’ reported Walters. ‘Perhaps he’s run out of things to say or paint to use.’

‘Do we know what kind of paint?’

‘The lab says it’s blue ordinary matt emulsion, the type used in homes and offices. It’s new paint though, not old, probably manufactured by one of the major paint companies. They’re still working on trying to identify the colour and manufacturer.’

‘Call on the hardware shops and ask who has being buying dark blue paint.’

Walters eyed him incredulously. ‘They won’t remember that.’

‘They will if they have an automated stock control system and that applies to all the big DIY stores. It will tell them how many tins of dark blue paint they’ve sold over the last couple of weeks and if our man bought it using his credit card or a store loyalty card or trade account then they’ll have that information too.’

‘He wouldn’t be that stupid.’

‘Let’s hope he is and we can nail him.’

Walters still looked dubious. ‘It’s a bit of a long shot, guv.’

And one that involved Walters getting off his fat arse. ‘Better that than no shot at all. Anything on the suspects you and PC Tina Collins have identified?’

‘Nah, all three have alibis. There are no signs of blue emulsion paint on their premises or in their rubbish bins. And please don’t ask me to go to the household waste tip,’ Walters pleaded.

It wouldn’t help anyway but he wasn’t going to tell Walters that. ‘I’ll save that for later,
if
you don’t catch him. Have you called on the other restaurants in the street that’s been targeted?’

‘No.’ Walters sounded surprised.