Pauline Rowson - A Killing Coast

‘This is a fascinating tale, Inspector.’

Horton ignored him. ‘Arthur Lisle couldn’t find any record of Sarah’s property transaction, and now that his memory had been stirred he remembered that she’d mentioned something about a cruise before settling down.’ Horton didn’t know that for certain but he thought it probably a good guess. ‘So Yately set off for Southampton on the Monday before his death to view the records of the passenger lists of the liners coming in to the port from 1980 to 1986, when Hazleton retired. Yately, a thorough, patient man, found Sarah Walpen. He took a photograph of the entry and returned excited. Arthur Lisle came to you and told you about the fraud, and said that you had to call in the police, which was the last thing you wanted.’

Chandler sucked in his breath. He held Horton’s eye contact and frowned. Horton could see his mind racing, looking for a way out.

Horton continued. ‘You told Lisle that you needed to speak to Colin Yately first and make absolutely sure. Lisle said he’d call Yately and ask him to meet you, at your suggestion, at Sarah Walpen’s house on Wednesday evening, but Lisle couldn’t make it. Lisle must have worked out or finally remembered where Sarah’s house was, or perhaps he checked with the Land Registry. He’d already visited Hazleton and seen his antiques paraded around the house, so knew it had to be nearby. But Lisle had arranged to go away until Monday, we’re not sure where yet, but we’ll find out. I suspect it was a walking break, visiting the places he and his wife had walked when they’d first met.’ Horton recalled the photographs of Abigail and Arthur Lisle in walking clothes at the Brecon Beacons, which he’d seen on the mantelpiece in Lisle’s house.

‘You met Colin Yately. Knocked him unconscious and tied him up. You left him in that house until you could decide how to dispose of him. You had a little time on your hands because Lisle wasn’t due back until Monday.’

‘This really is incredible.’

Uckfield snorted and made to interject, but Horton got there first. ‘On Saturday night you took your fishing boat, which I think we’ll find is moored at Ventnor Haven, around to the bay on the high tide.’ Cantelli had yet to confirm that but Horton could see he had guessed correctly, and the office manager had told them that the day Arthur Lisle had asked to view the archived files Chandler had been out fishing, with a client.

‘You returned to Sarah Walpen’s house and forced Yately down to the shore, where you tortured him into telling you that he’d written notes about Sarah Walpen and what had happened to her. You took his keys off his key fob, leaving him with the picture of his daughter, because you had to give the keys to Arthur Lisle and say that Colin had given them to you. Lisle would have been suspicious if you’d given him the key fob as well because he knew that Yately would never part with the picture of his daughter. You then left him to drown, callously waiting until he had, before hauling him out using the winch on your fishing boat. Then you untied him and left him in an inlet in the small bay while you decided how to dispose of him. You weren’t sure yet whether you needed the body to frame Lisle or Hazleton. Only the body showed up in the Solent, not far from Portsmouth Harbour, and you assumed it had been washed out to sea, but then you didn’t know about the dress.’

Chandler couldn’t hide his surprise quickly enough for Horton not to notice, but said nothing.

Despising the calculating killer in front of him, Horton pressed on. ‘On Monday evening you called on Arthur Lisle, or asked him to come here after hours. You gave him Yately’s keys and asked him to collect Yately’s notes, the camera and briefcase. If anyone saw him it would throw suspicion on him as the killer. You told Lisle to bring them to Sarah’s house, where you said you’d arranged to meet Yately, and the three of you would decide what action to take.’

Horton wished they could shove the gruesome pictures of Lisle’s decomposing body under the solicitor’s nose; maybe they would if Chandler decided to continue with his denials. It might shock him into telling the truth.

Grimly, Horton continued, ‘You killed Lisle, but Hazleton was on one of his little nocturnal jaunts and saw you. That suited you fine. You killed him, stuffed him in the boot of Lisle’s car and drove it to Chale Bay where you ditched it, hoping that we would believe Lisle had done so and then killed himself. You live not far from there.’ He recalled what Cantelli had said: Chandler lives in a large country manor house at Kingston , and that wasn’t far from Chale Bay. ‘You walked home that night. We’ll check with your family, of course.’

Uckfield stepped forward. Brusquely he said, ‘You’d better make that call.’

Chandler took a deep breath. ‘There’s been some mistake.’

Horton saw that he’d finally shaken him. Good. He hoped the smug bastard would be shaken a great deal more by the time they’d finished.

‘Tell that to your lawyer,’ Horton snapped, rising.

Uckfield went out into the corridor and called in the uniformed officers waiting there.

Slowly Chandler rose. ‘Victor Hazleton was a snob and a horrible little man. He’d take every chance to rub my nose in the fact he had more money than me. Him, a mere clerk!’

‘That was no reason to kill him,’ snarled Uckfield, as one of the officers took Chandler’s arm.

‘Wasn’t it?’ snapped Chandler. ‘I wasn’t going to have everything I’ve worked for, and my father worked for, brought down by him and his filthy dishonesty. I wasn’t going to let him ruin my practice and my son’s future, not to mention my family’s name.’

‘No, you’ve done that yourself,’ Horton said tightly, as Chandler was led away.

‘Pompous prat,’ Uckfield pronounced after him.

And a ruthless killer; a man who thought he could destroy lives and get away with it, thought Horton.

‘Good result,’ Uckfield rubbed his hands. ‘And we’ve beaten Wonder Boy’s deadline.’ He reached for his phone.

‘There’s Avril Glenn.’

‘Shit. No one’s told her about her husband.’

‘I’ll do that. I know her.’

‘You never said,’ Uckfield said, startled.

‘I’d like to do it before the charity reception tonight.’

‘Christ, I’d forgotten about that. I heard the Chief’s going to it. I’d better come with you.’

‘He won’t be there until later. Might be better though if you called him and briefed him.’

Uckfield brightened at that. A malicious gleam spread across his face. Horton knew what he was thinking. It would be one in the eye for Dean. ‘I’ll do it on the ferry.’

The cold evening air helped to clear Horton’s thumping head. It had been a long day and it wasn’t over yet. ‘What about interviewing Chandler?’ he asked.

‘Tomorrow will do when his brief shows up. Let him stew in a cell overnight. I’ll get him shipped back to the mainland for the questioning and a confession.’

If he’ll make one, thought Horton, heading for the ferry. And even if he didn’t Trueman and the team would dig up the evidence and check Chandler’s movements. And they would show him photographs of Lisle’s body. Horton spared a sorrowful thought for Rachel Salter and for Hannah Yately, before his mind switched to his forthcoming meeting with Avril and the unpleasant task that lay ahead.

Horton waved his ID at the security guards at the marina office at the top of the pontoon. There were three more than usual and two of them were coppers who tried to avoid his gaze. He headed down to Russell Glenn’s superyacht. Lights blazed from every porthole but there were no guests on board yet. The reception wasn’t due to start for another hour. He’d just managed to catch a ferry, leaving a no doubt fuming Uckfield at the terminal, kicking his heels, or rather cursing vehemently, while waiting for the next sailing. He was glad. He wanted to be alone with Avril when he broke the news.