Pauline Rowson - Footsteps on the Shore

‘And you think this other person has stolen the tapes. But why wait until now? I’ve had them for five years.’

That was a question Horton had been mulling over, along with several others. He said, ‘Have you seen or heard from Luke since he was released? It’s important you tell me the truth, Lena.’

‘I swear to you I haven’t. I knew Luke was applying for parole, but that’s the last time I heard from him. I haven’t been working at the prison for a year.’

Her flushed face hinted to Horton that maybe she had become too involved with her clients, or rather one in particular. Perhaps someone had found them doing something that wasn’t professional or acceptable behind prison walls.

He let it go — that was not his concern — and said, ‘I think the person who was with Luke Felton when Natalie was killed has only just learned about the tapes.’ Which meant that Luke must have told him. So who could Luke have trusted and confided in? His mind ran through the list of possibles. His brother, Ashley? Or his little sister, Olivia Danbury? But why would either of them have been involved in the murder of Natalie Raymonds? Could Luke have told Neil Danbury? Horton thought it unlikely judging by Danbury’s previous remarks.

Then there was Kelly Masters, but Horton couldn’t see why the personnel officer at Kempton’s would want to steal the tapes, and she could hardly have been involved in Natalie’s murder. But she could have told someone about them, if Luke had confided in her after a session of mad passionate love, or rather frenzied sexual intercourse. Who though? One name sprang to mind. Edward Shawford. Hence his Good Samaritan act of giving Luke a lift. Taylor’s search of Shawford’s boat now seemed to have been a very good idea.

What about Matt Boynton, Luke’s probation officer? Again, Horton couldn’t see any link between him and Natalie Raymonds. And even if Luke had told Boynton about the tapes, how would Boynton have known who to pass the information on to? The same went for Ronnie Rookley.

And clearly if there had been someone with Luke that day, as was now highly probable, why had he set Luke up to take the blame for Natalie’s death? It had to be drug related, surely.

Horton considered the options. What if Natalie had been a dealer, and had been about to cause trouble for her supplier? The supplier, whoever he was, had used Luke as a scapegoat for Natalie’s murder, luring him to the coastal path with the promise of drugs. Maybe Rookley knew this supplier. He’d gone to meet him in the cemetery after they’d questioned him about Luke’s disappearance in the greasy cafe. And Rookley had either been told to clear out, or the supplier — Natalie’s killer — had silenced him, as he might already have silenced Luke.

Suddenly Horton felt afraid for Lena Lockhart. ‘Is there anyone you can stay with for a while?’ he asked.

She looked up, bewildered. ‘Why should I?’ Then, catching his drift, her eyes widened. ‘You think I’m in danger?’

‘No. It’s just a precaution,’ he tried to reassure her, but she eyed him cynically.

‘You think that whoever stole the tapes is Natalie’s killer and that he might come after me because I can testify what Luke told me.’

Something like that, thought Horton, but he didn’t say so. ‘It’s best to be on the safe side.’

She frowned, considering this. After a moment she said, ‘I’ve got an aunt in Brighton. I could go there for a few days, but I’d have to cancel my appointments.’

‘I think it might be best. And you should leave right away. I can get someone to accompany you home and we’ll get you on the ferry.’

‘You’ll let me know what happens, though, and when it’s safe to come back.’

‘Of course.’ He felt relieved. He’d be a lot happier with her out of the way. ‘I don’t want to know the address,’ he said, reaching for his mobile phone. ‘Just give me your mobile number.’

She did. His phone rang as he finished entering it in his address book. Taylor had arrived a lot quicker than he had expected, but he wasn’t complaining.

‘I’ve not had a chance to get anything over to the lab yet from Shawford’s boat,’ Taylor said. ‘But everything’s clearly labelled so there’s no risk of cross-contamination or getting things mixed up.’

Horton believed him. Taylor was efficiency itself.

At the entrance to Lena’s office building Horton asked her to wait just inside the door and if she’d mind having her fingerprints taken, along with a swab for DNA purposes. ‘Just to eliminate you,’ he explained. She agreed. When the process was complete he gave instructions for one of the PCs to follow Lena home and to go inside with her while she packed. ‘Follow her to the ferry and see her safely on board. Make sure no one follows you and get a list of all the passengers, both car and foot.’ Just as a precaution, he thought. He couldn’t see anyone watching them as they drove away.

He asked the other PC to check with the occupants of the building, and the adjoining retail units, to see if anyone had seen or heard anything between Saturday afternoon and that morning. Then he joined Taylor in Lena’s office. Holding up the empty box file, now encased in an evidence bag, Taylor said, ‘There aren’t any prints.’

Horton had guessed as much, but there might be something: a hair, a drop of spittle, anything. And Taylor would find it if it was there. Horton waited until the officer returned with the news that no one had seen or heard anything. Disappointed, he left instructions for the PC to remain until Taylor had completely finished and then to call a locksmith and make sure that Lena’s office was fitted with new locks and firmly sealed.

Standing just inside the hall, he called Cantelli, who said, ‘Peter Bailey’s got a clean driving licence and he doesn’t keep a boat at the Castle Sailing Club. I’ve also checked with Horsea Marina, Portsmouth, Langstone and Chichester harbourmasters and there’s no boat registered to Bailey. The computer unit can’t find anything on Luke’s computer to show he corresponded with anyone, and Walters says that none of Kempton’s visitors admits to talking to Luke, let alone offering him a job.’

‘I think we can forget that theory.’ Horton quickly relayed what had happened and explained his ideas.

Cantelli listened in silence before saying, ‘So someone connected with Rookley looks our best bet.’

‘Yes, although I’m not ruling out the others yet, especially Shawford. But we need to find out who was supplying in 1997, who Luke knew, and find a connection between that and Rookley or Crown House.’ Which meant Horton needed from the drug squad the surveillance tapes and a list of Rookley’s contacts. It was unlikely Superintendent Oliver would give him that without Bliss’s or Uckfield’s permission, and Uckfield wouldn’t be interested because this new development meant that Luke Felton had no connection with the murder of Venetia Trotman. ‘See if you can persuade Olewbo to give us the information, Barney. I’ve asked him once and he said he’d see what he could do, so jog his memory for me.’

Horton rang off and headed for the ferry. While he was waiting to board it his phone rang. He expected Cantelli, but it was Dr Clayton.

‘I’ve got a match on your body in the harbour,’ she said, somewhat excitedly.

Horton hadn’t exactly forgotten about the body, but it had slipped down his list of priorities. ‘Who is he?’ he asked keenly.

‘I’ll tell you when you get here.’

Horton hesitated, wanting to know more yet eager to get back to see if Olewbo had sent him anything yet. ‘Can’t you tell me over the phone or call Sergeant Cantelli?’

‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘You need to see this, Andy.’