Pauline Rowson - The Suffocating Sea

'Croxton was a con artist and a very good one. He'd already set up the false identity of James Rowthorpe. I simply took it over when he died. We were very alike and that's what gave me the idea in the first place, though it was Jennifer who first pointed out the likeness to me.'

Horton felt a pang of sympathy for his mother and he was shocked by the emotion. It was as if the picture of her he'd been looking at for years had suddenly and sharply come into focus. And it wasn't how he had imagined it. For once he put himself in her shoes and imagined her as a victim and not his cruel, heartless mother.

He said, 'So Croxton pulled off a big jewellery heist.'

'Hatton Garden. He got away with millions,' Warwick said boastfully, as though it had been his robbery. Horton saw that the temptation to tell him was too big to resist.

Warwick topped up his drink. 'He was an importer and exporter of diamonds so he knew his way around. He wasn't called Croxton there. He used a dual identity. Everyone at Hatton Garden knew him as Philip Crane. Then on the fifteenth of August 1977 he simply entered the vaults and emptied them, got away with diamonds, jewellery and cash worth over?1.5 million. No one noticed they'd gone until Monday morning; by then it was too late. Most of the people whose safety deposit boxes were stolen never came forward because they didn't want anyone to know what they had in them. They were either the proceeds of crime or tax evasion.'

It was clever and simple.

'Croxton drove down from London that night,' Warwick said. 'He'd hired a motorboat and arranged for Jennifer to meet him, only she didn't turn up. We did.'

Had his mother known what was going to happen? He didn't like to think so. That would make her an accessory to robbery and murder. How could he live with that if it came out? And it would. His mother's past would be emblazoned across every newspaper and television screen in the country when or if Warwick Hassingham came to trial. Even if his mother's part in this was innocent there would be enough mud thrown for it to stick. Horton saw slipping from him both his career and his daughter; the two things he valued above all else in the world, and he shuddered at the memory of being so utterly and completely alone once again. He wasn't sure he could bear it. But what could he do — kill this evil bastard sitting arrogantly before him, with that smug grin on his sharp pointed face and wickedness glowing from his green eyes? It went against everything he believed in and yet…

Janice reappeared with a shrink-wrapped packet of sandwiches and some on a plate. She set them down on a table between her and Warwick.

'Thought you might like some now,' she said. 'Before we get going.'

Hassingham took one, smiling sycophantically at her. With his mouth full he said, 'I took the motorboat out with Croxton on board, dead by then, of course. The others met me off the Isle of Wight. We scuttled the boat, staged the accident and called the coastguards. I became Croxton and poor Warwick Hassingham perished overboard in a heroic rescue.'

Janice's hands were grasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles were white. The hatred in her eyes shook Horton. How could Warwick not see it? But then he was so sure of himself that he wouldn't have noticed it if she had spat daggers at him. And even if she had done, Warwick wouldn't have cared. This was a man who had manipulated and destroyed so many people and got away with it that he thought he was invincible.

Horton could see that she hadn't been fooled by her brother's lies; she knew that Sebastian hadn't killed Tom Brundall, because she had seen her brother kill him. She'd been there. Rowland had told her where to find Tom; that was what she had said. And even through the pain in his shoulders, his feelings of hatred and panic that this man was about to destroy his life as he had destroyed his mother's, Horton was making connections, grappling to arrange the facts, and one leapt out at him. Janice had been walking down Queens Street to the vicarage to find out where Tom was staying and then to kill Rowland, because in that overheard conversation between the brothers she had discovered that Warwick hadn't perished in the sea after all but was alive, fit and wealthy. But why had she killed Rowland and Sebastian Gilmore?

Warwick was saying, 'I discovered I had a talent for selling diamonds and getting people to do what I wanted. I've made a good living from it.'

Horton brought his attention back to Warwick whilst his mind raced with thoughts. 'You threw Croxton's body into the sea, dressing it with your rings, and by the time he was washed up, he was unrecognizable. There was no DNA test in those days so how did you get away with the dental records matching up?'

'I switched them. Jennifer found out who Croxton's dentist was and I stole my records from my dentist and substituted them. It was quite simple.'

Had his mother known about the switch? He wanted to believe she was an innocent victim in all this, but his copper's brain was telling him something different and it made him sick to his stomach.

'And Sebastian did the odd smuggling of diamonds for you.'

That got a reaction from Janice. 'I don't believe it!'

Warwick turned his patronizing and pitying gaze on his sister. Her head came up and she glared at him.

'How do you think he could afford to live like he did?' Warwick said, reaching for another sandwich. Horton wondered if Selina knew this. With his mouth full, Warwick said, 'We'd better get moving.'

There was only one track out of here; otherwise it was over the cliff and into the sea. But again Warwick thwarted him.

Stuffing the rest of the sandwich in his mouth, he said, 'Trevor has many talents, and one of them is piloting a helicopter.'

Trevor grabbed Horton and pulled him up as though he was a rag doll. So that was how Warwick got to Guernsey to kill Sherbourne and back again. After killing Brundall, he must have caught the Fast Cat or Hovercraft back to the Isle of Wight where Terry was waiting with the helicopter, only there had been some delay in getting to Sherbourne before he'd left for his client on Thursday morning.

As Trevor hauled Horton to the door, Horton said to Janice, 'You don't think your brother's going to take you with him? You're a liability like me. You know too much. Once outside he'll kill us both, or maybe Trevor will kill you and Warwick me.'

She dashed hateful eyes at Warwick and in them Horton saw a glimmer of triumph and the final pieces of the puzzle fell into place. His heart lurched. He knew what she had done, but he still didn't know why. He tried to recall how long it had taken Rowland Gilmore to die of poison, for Horton was certain that Janice was killing her brother the same way she had killed Rowland Gilmore — with pufferfish poison in the sandwiches. When would it take effect? Should he tell Warwick? Horton needed time to think, but that was a luxury he didn't have as Trevor manhandled him along the path and on to the sodden grass, the icy rain beating into his face. Janice and Warwick were in front of them, their bodies leaning into the bitterly cold wind, Warwick with his hand firmly on his sister's arm. If Horton did nothing, then surely he was as guilty of murder as Janice would be? Yet if Warwick died then the facts about his mother's past need never come out. But if he let Warwick die, Janice and Trevor had heard what Warwick had said about Jennifer Horton, and so what was he going to do: kill them as well? Hardly.

The helicopter suddenly loomed out at them from the dark. Horton could hear the waves crashing on to the rocks below the cliff face and wondered if that was where they would find his battered and broken body. With his heart pounding he shouted above the roar of the wind. 'Will you push Janice out over the sea, Warwick, or is that pleasure reserved for me?'