Undercurrent (19 page)

‘The briefcase!’

‘Eh?’

‘There was something in that briefcase that Redsall wanted or had been told to get.’ Was it possible that it was some critical information about the Navy or naval shipping movements? Horton thought of that empty rucksack. ‘After Redsall delivered it he was killed.’ Horton recalled the remark Beatrice Redsall had made about her nephew being principled. Principled about what, though?

Horton continued. ‘Redsall must have waited for Spalding to come out of the naval museum and falsified his signing-out time, which wouldn’t have been difficult given the state the security officer was in on Monday night. All Redsall had to do after pushing Spalding over the railings was transfer Spalding’s laptop computer from his briefcase into his rucksack, ditch the briefcase and then hand over the laptop to his contact.’

‘Would Redsall have had the strength to push Spalding into Number One Dock?’

‘If Spalding had been drugged, yes.’

In the silence that fell between them they both knew that was possible despite the findings of the test results. Horton continued. ‘The Coroner will conclude that Spalding took his own life while the balance of his mind was disturbed and that Redsall died of natural causes, unless the toxicology test show drugs in his system in which case they’ll say they were self-administered.’

‘And they might have evidence to back up that theory.’

Horton eyed Trueman, surprised.

‘Daniel Redsall suffered a complete nervous breakdown just after his eighteenth birthday.’

Horton groaned inwardly and swallowed his coffee. Beatrice Redsall hadn’t mentioned that but then she was the type who wouldn’t understand mental illness – to her it would have shown weakness, and perhaps Daniel’s father had thought the same. The pressure to achieve, along with the expectation that Daniel would join the Navy and have a glittering career, had become too much for him, and he’d cracked up. Horton vowed silently never to put that kind of pressure on his daughter’s young shoulders. It was the perfect excuse though to cover up Redsall’s death as Trueman said. Redsall had succumbed to depression before it could happen again.

Trueman continued. ‘Daniel Redsall was hospitalized for a year, before going to university where he obtained a BA in Archaeology, and then an MA in Maritime Archaeology and History at Bristol University. He’s had several papers published, took a variety of lecturing posts and worked as a freelance maritime archaeologist. I get the impression he was something of a loner.’

‘That’ll be nice and convenient for the Coroner,’ Horton said acerbically.

‘What are you going to do, Andy?’

‘Write up my reports as the Super requested.’

Trueman eyed him knowingly. ‘I’ll let you know if anything else crops up.’ He rose. ‘I’d better go before Uckfield comes looking for me.’

Horton left the canteen a couple of minutes afterwards. He returned to his office where Walters informed him that he couldn’t find any trace of Spalding having travelled from Belfast to Coleraine. ‘He didn’t hire a car and if he went by bus or train he didn’t pay by credit or debit card. Do you want me to ask the Northern Ireland Police to make inquiries at Coleraine and at the train and bus stations and get them to show Spalding’s photo around?’

Horton did but
he’d
ask them because if anyone was going to get bollocked it would be him. ‘Is there any sighting of Redsall on the Oyster Quays pontoons last night?’

Walters shook his head. ‘And only two boats arrived between six and ten thirty: Carl Ashton’s yacht and another one. I could swear I saw Agent Eames get off it and walk up the pontoon with some poncey looking git, another man and the most gorgeous bit of stuff that—’

‘You did. But we won’t tell DCI Bliss that or she might get jealous.’

He relayed the outcome of Uckfield’s briefing.

‘So I can stop watching this screen?’ Walters asked, clearly relieved.

‘Yes.’

Horton closed his office door and rang through to the police in Coleraine. He asked them to make inquiries. Replacing his receiver he wondered how long it would be before the intelligence services discovered that and put a stop to it. Next he rang Dr Clayton from his mobile. When she came on the line he said, ‘Superintendent Uckfield’s told me the results of the autopsy on Daniel Redsall.’

‘Yes, but I—’

‘Fancy a drink?’ he interjected.

There was a short pause before she said, ‘OK.’

‘The Bridge Tavern, at the Camber, seven thirty?’

‘Perfect.’

And Horton knew by that one word she’d understood his purpose. He needed to know what she really thought of Daniel Redsall’s death.

S
he was there before him. He’d been delayed at the station. Cantelli had returned to say that Beatrice Redsall had confirmed the body was that of her nephew. She hadn’t batted an eyelid or shed a tear. Horton had known she wouldn’t. It was the way she was made. She’d also confirmed that no Redsall had sailed on HMS
Challenger
and that she’d never heard of Erica Leyton or any research project connected with the
Challenger
.

As he swung into the car park Horton could see the red-haired diminutive figure of Gaye Clayton standing on the quay talking to a fisherman on his boat. Her boyish figure was dressed casually in jeans and a white T-shirt and she swung round on his approach with such a bright and welcoming smile on her freckled face that he felt a warm glow spread through him, as though he’d known her for years. He realized in that moment that she never made him feel inferior or defensive in the same way that many people did, even though he would never admit that, or perhaps he should say as Eames made him feel. He found himself attracted to Gaye but in a different way to Eames, how precisely though he didn’t know and didn’t care to analyse. On many occasions he’d been tempted to ask Gaye out, but his working relationship with her had prevented him, just as it prevented him getting closer to Eames. He wished he hadn’t thought of Eames. His feelings for her were complicated – for Christ’s sake he couldn’t even think of her in terms of her first name – and those complications were now exacerbated by his feelings for Gaye Clayton. Best to avoid them both he guessed, in any emotional and sexual sense that was, professionally he didn’t have much choice. Besides, perhaps neither would touch him with a barge pole.

She dismissed his apology for being late, said a cheery goodbye to the fisherman and accompanied him inside the pub where he ordered their drinks. She refused an offer of food and they talked of her holiday, sailing in France. Horton felt a stab of jealousy when she spoke of the friends who had accompanied her, two male doctors and a female radiologist, an emotion that left him even more confused and frustrated and with a sense of loneliness that he hastily and angrily pushed aside while at the same time resenting his mother, and feeling disappointed that Madeley hadn’t returned his call. He turned his mind to Spalding and Redsall. Seated outside in the declining August sun he told her he wanted to discuss their deaths.

‘And there’s me thinking you wanted the pleasure of my company,’ she joked.

‘I do but I also want your expertise.’ He returned her smile and as their eyes connected he knew it wouldn’t take much for him to take their relationship further. He said, ‘Is there any indication on Redsall’s medical records that he might have suffered Sudden Death Syndrome?’

She picked up her glass and eyed him steadily and perhaps with a hint of disappointment, Horton thought. After taking a sip of her mineral water she said, ‘No, but that’s not unusual because he might not have had any symptoms. Let me explain. The conditions responsible for Sudden Arrhythmia Death Syndrome, to give it its proper name, causes a cardiac arrest by bringing on a “ventricular arrhythmia”, a disturbance in the heart’s rhythm, even though the person has no structural heart disease, and Redsall’s heart was in perfect condition. There is a group of relatively rare diseases called ion channelopathies that affect the electrical functioning of the heart without affecting the heart’s structure. This means that they can only be detected in life and not at post-mortem. It often affects mainly young people but one form can affect middle-aged men, like Daniel Redsall; it’s called Brugada Syndrome and the patient may have no symptoms at all. Sudden death usually happens while the person is sleeping. It is a possible cause of death in Redsall’s case but I can see by your expression that you don’t believe it.’

‘Do you?’

‘So your theory is?’

‘Drugged or poisoned, whichever term you prefer, and deliberately so.’

‘Homicide.’ She considered this but made no comment.

‘Yes and I think the same method was used to kill Douglas Spalding.’

‘Nothing showed up in the toxicology tests.’

‘It wouldn’t.’

She eyed him quizzically and he swiftly told her his theory that Redsall and Spalding could be mixed up in something that national intelligence wanted suppressed, such as suspected terrorism, possibly connected with a cell operating in Northern Ireland. Even as he said it he recognized that he had gone through several theories concerning their deaths and that perhaps he was just grasping at another to justify his intuition. Maybe he should give it up.

She said nothing for a few moments. ‘I must admit they handled the tests on Spalding very quickly.’

‘Too quickly?’ he suggested, hopefully.

She shrugged. ‘Of course, if you rush things mistakes
can
be made, although not often, and certainly not when I’m around.’

‘Ah, but you weren’t.’

‘No.’

He smiled briefly before continuing. ‘And you weren’t there to examine Spalding’s body for tiny pin pricks.’ The theory of poison by injection fitted. It had been done before. Any sharp instrument could be used and easily concealed in a pocket until needed. And perhaps Daniel Redsall had done that while talking to Spalding after the lecture.

‘But I did examine Redsall’s body,’ she said, ‘and I didn’t find anything like that. Perhaps I had better make a closer examination.’ She took a sip of her drink. Horton could see the thoughts racing through her mind.

Sitting forward and lowering his voice he said, ‘OK, so discounting the results of the toxicology tests, Spalding was last seen alive when Julie Preston let him out of the naval museum at nine thirty-five. His body was discovered by Neil Gideon at just after ten thirty-five, so he could have met someone outside the museum, who administered the drug and it took effect immediately. That person could have been Daniel Redsall who in turn was killed with the same drug on the pontoon at Oyster Quays last night.’

‘And he died sometime between six and ten o’clock.’

‘No, Redsall died after seven o’clock because there are witnesses who said he wasn’t on Ashton’s yacht then.’

‘Right.’ She frowned as she considered this. ‘So we’re looking for something that acted quickly?’

That gave Horton three options as far as Redsall’s death was concerned: someone in one of those boats moored up in Oyster Quays had administered the drug, and there was only Ashton and Rupert Crawford’s party on the pontoons; someone dropped Daniel Redsall off in the marina after drugging him except no boat was seen mooring up during that time; or the drug was administered by a person with access to the pontoons, someone who knew the security code and how to dodge the security cameras who met him there. Why did he want to think of Rupert Crawford? Jealousy, he guessed. He said, ‘Any idea what drug could work speedily?’

She blew out her cheeks and ran a hand through her spiky hair as she considered this. ‘It could be something specially manufactured and unknown.’

Ashton’s clients flashed into Horton’s mind. Ashton had said that one of them had worked for a biomedical company. Simon Watson. Was it possible he was involved? He brought his mind back to Dr Clayton as she continued.

‘Or it could be a good old-fashioned poison. Nicotine for example can be rapidly absorbed through the skin or gastrointestinal tract. It can be injected and death can occur within minutes. It would have caused respiratory failure, which Spalding would certainly have had anyway after hitting a concrete slab. So that’s a possibility. Cyanide is another possibility. However with cyanide the face and lips of the victims would have been blue, and there would have been a cherry-red appearance in the blood. This wasn’t picked up in Spalding’s autopsy and it certainly wasn’t present in Redsall’s body. Then there’s Aconite. If a large dose is taken it can kill almost immediately. It affects the central nervous system, paralysing the muscles. There would have been nausea and possibly vomiting—’

‘Which could have been washed away by the rain in both instances.’

‘Yes, but there would have been traces on the victims’ clothes. I didn’t find any traces of vomit on Redsall’s clothes. Did the pathologist make any comment about vomit being found on Spalding’s clothes?’

‘I haven’t read the autopsy report, only been told the results.’ And if there was vomit then Uckfield might have been told to ignore it.

‘I’ll read it and send you over a copy. If Redsall and Spalding had been given massive doses they would have suffered burning and tingling in the mouth, numbness in the tongue, throat and face, and blurred vision.’

With heightened interest Horton picked up on this. ‘Blurred vision could have caused Spalding to stagger about outside. He panics, struggles to breathe and doubles up over the railings surrounding Number One Dock then topples over as the pain grips him and his breathing slows.’

‘Possible.’

‘And Redsall doesn’t know where he is or what he’s doing, he staggers onto Ashton’s boat, the poison takes effect and he dies.’

She sat back looking concerned. ‘I don’t like the thought that I’ve missed something.’

‘You haven’t. You don’t do the toxicology tests.’

‘No, but maybe I should.’

‘Look, this isn’t official.’

‘Didn’t think it was for one moment.’ She tossed back her drink. ‘I’ve got work to do. I won’t be able to take fresh samples for tests for either Spalding or Redsall until tomorrow morning but I’d like to re-examine Redsall’s body tonight. I’ll let you know if I find anything. Thanks for the drink.’ She rose.