Pauline Rowson - Footsteps on the Shore

The comment caused Horton an uncomfortable jolt at the memory of Catherine’s angry words, You think more of that bloody job than you do of me. Had it been true? Well, stuff it, the job was all he had, and a daughter who he wasn’t going to give up at any cost.

He returned to the station mulling over what Duncan Chawley had told him, seeing again in his mind the gaunt, yellowing figure of the former detective superintendent and finding it difficult to rid himself of the smell of sickness. He reckoned they would never know why Felton had been on the coastal path that day, because even when or if they found him he wouldn’t remember. And it didn’t really matter anyway. That case was closed. The Venetia Trotman one was wide open, unless there had been any new developments.

Uckfield said not. There was no sign of Dennings in the incident suite, so Horton assumed he must still be with the team digging up Venetia Trotman’s garden although it was now dark.

‘You got any more on this Luke Felton?’ Uckfield asked. ‘Because Trueman’s not getting very far with proving a connection between him and the victim, or Felton being pally with any inmates or ex cons.’

Swiftly Horton told Uckfield about Shawford giving Luke Felton a lift to the castle, but said nothing about his subsequent interview with the man and his trip to Petersfield. He finished by adding, ‘I’ve applied for a warrant to search Shawford’s boat, maybe he’s lying and took Felton there, but that might just be my suspicious mind working overtime.’

‘And the fact you hate his guts.’

‘The feeling’s mutual.’

‘Shawford giving Felton a lift doesn’t connect him with Venetia Trotman.’

‘I know, but it is the last sighting of Felton, and in the vicinity of the victim. I’ll take a look around there tomorrow with Cantelli. PC Seaton’s also going to ask around in the area.’

Uckfield sniffed. ‘I’ll wait to see if we get anything from the search of Shawford’s boat before questioning him.’

Horton addressed Trueman. ‘Any news on the key found in the victim’s hand?’

‘It opens a portable locker, the type that’s sold in any hardware store or on line. I’ll be able to check suppliers tomorrow. We might be able to find out where and when it was bought but that probably won’t get us much further.’

No wonder Uckfield looked so bad-tempered, thought Horton, returning to his office, and even Trueman looked glum. Clearly it was one of those frustrating cases that looked set to drag on. Horton hoped the disappearance of Luke Felton wasn’t going to be the same.

He glanced at the clock and saw it was too late to do more tonight. Heading for the boat there was no sign of anyone following him, but then why should his graffiti artist bother to do that when he knew where he lived? His mind returned to Shawford. He’d given them a lead and tomorrow they would see where it took them. And in a week’s time, he thought with a smile, he’d get to be with his daughter.

Monday, 16 March

‘Impressive, isn’t it?’ Cantelli said.

Horton stared across the moat at the flint walls of the Roman castle and agreed. It was.

‘We brought the kids here last summer,’ Cantelli added, falling into step beside Horton as they headed eastwards towards the shore, keeping the castle wall on their right. ‘Marie was doing the Romans at school. Did you know that the earliest Roman fortification was built here between 285 and 290 AD and the first Norman castle in 1086?’

‘I’m more interested in what Luke Felton was doing here last Tuesday,’ Horton replied.

‘Philistine,’ Cantelli joked. ‘Have you no feel for history?’

Too much, Horton thought, but of his own rather than any Roman soldier stationed here in a perishing north-easterly watching for marauders in Portsmouth Harbour. To his left was a picnic area and beyond that a path that led northwards along the shore. He could hear the drone of the cars on the motorway, about four miles to the north, even though the wind was in the opposite direction.

Cantelli continued. ‘Being so close to the harbour the castle was also a great favourite of the medieval kings. King John was a regular visitor, Henry the First stayed here before travelling to France and Henry the Second made several visits in 1163 and 1164.’

‘I didn’t know you were a historian,’ Horton rejoined with a hint of sarcasm.

‘I have hidden depths. For example, I also know that Henry the Fifth sailed from Portchester Castle in 1415 for the Battle of Agincourt, and Queen Elizabeth the First was a guest at the castle in 1601.’

Horton threw him a pitying glance. Cantelli grinned. ‘I know, not the kind of useful background you had in mind. Still, you never know when it might come in handy.’

‘I doubt Luke Felton came here to soak up the castle’s history.’ But what did he come for? Was it more than a coincidence that Luke had wanted to be taken to the same location as where the murdered woman lived?

Cantelli slipped a fresh piece of chewing gum into his mouth before turning up his jacket collar against a stiff breeze that was blowing up Portsmouth Harbour. ‘Must have been a bit draughty for those Roman soldiers in their skirts and sandals.’

Horton smiled fleetingly and gazed across a choppy sea at the boats bobbing about on their moorings. Opposite he could see the boats in Horsea Marina. ‘According to Shawford’s evidence he dropped Luke here at about six thirty. Let’s see if Felton could have reached Venetia Trotman’s house on foot.’

They turned right, heading in the direction of Willow Bank. Soon they had left the castle behind them and were walking along the footpath before it petered out and they stepped down on to the shore. Horton told Cantelli about his visit to Catherine, and Shawford’s sexual tastes. Cantelli looked concerned. ‘Surely Catherine wouldn’t put Emma at risk,’ he said.

‘Maybe not, but that boarding school suddenly looks a very attractive option.’ For a start, neither Catherine nor her father would be there to poison his daughter against him, and he might even get to see Emma over some weekends and in the holidays. All he had to do was persuade her it was for the best, and that might not be easy. He wasn’t going to force her into it though. If she really hated the place, and the thought of being away from her mother, then he’d have to think of something else. He couldn’t expect Catherine to stay celibate until Emma reached eighteen.

They drew up at the bottom of the concrete slipway where Shorena had been moored.

‘It’s not much of a walk,’ Cantelli said.

Horton glanced at his watch. It had taken them just under half an hour. ‘If Felton did come this way on Tuesday it would have been dark, and he must have known the house was here because there’s no sign of it from where we’re standing.’

Horton raised his eyes to the tangle of bushes and trees hiding the house. He climbed up the slipway, with Cantelli following. Locating the gate and beyond it the blue and white scene-of-crime tape flapping in the breeze, he nodded at PC Allen who was standing guard inside the garden.

‘Found anything?’

‘Not even a dog bone. Just calling it off now, sir.’

Horton stared at the house. ‘If Luke came here with the intention of meeting and killing Venetia Trotman, then why wait until the early hours of Friday morning to do so when he could have killed her on Tuesday night? And why allow Shawford to give him a lift when it would have been safer to have no witnesses?’

‘Perhaps he’d arranged to meet someone at the sailing club, or the pub back down the road.’

‘Ask them, Barney.’ They headed back to the castle where Cantelli departed for the nearby pub. Horton continued on the shore path northwards. Ahead he could see the red and black funnel he’d noticed yesterday from Horsea Marina.