he was desperately seeking a way out. The gun was still aimed at his head with a steady hand. Parnham's gaze never wavered from him.
'It was foggy of course, ideal conditions. I hadn't really planned for that,' he said, as if he could have done so if he wished. 'I took the Free Spirit through the lock on free flow and motored to Emsworth where I picked up a buoy.'
Much as Horton had guessed. 'And the clothes? Did Thurlow really dress up in women's clothes?'
Parnham laughed. 'No, of course he didn't. I brought the clothes with me. I picked them up in a charity shop. I undressed and re-dressed Roger. Have you ever tried to dress someone who's dead, inspector? No? Well I don't recommend it. It is extremely difficult. I put him in the tender and motored near to the shore and then dragged the tender with Roger in it up the tower and dumped him.'
Was Melissa still alive? Horton agonised, but he couldn't stop Parnham now.
'It was just after midnight. I waited for a while. Saw a couple of girls come out of the track, then two men. They were very drunk, or drugged. I recognized Culven. When it was quiet, I dumped Roger inside but the girl came back. I couldn't be sure she hadn't seen me so she had to die. Then I motored back to the shore at Emsworth, where I left the tender and ran home.'
Behind Horton was a window but he was on the second floor. He wouldn't have time to get out of it before Parnham pulled that trigger and besides he'd probably break his neck landing on the gravel drive beneath him.
' Now, I think it's time we made a move, inspector. She must be dead by now.' Parnham prodded him towards the door.
Perhaps he could throw himself down the stairs? But no, that would only make Parnham fire the gun at him and he might end up breaking his leg, or his neck.
'How did you lure Culven to his death?' he asked, desperate to keep him talking until he could find a way out of this.
'Easy. On Tuesday evening I called Culven and asked him to meet me in the car park at Eastney. He did. He would have done anything for me by then.'
'You were lovers?'
'He was infatuated with me. I knew all about his little fetish and Alpha One.'
'What about Alpha One?' Horton stopped.
'I think you already know. Isn't that why you were suspended? Lucy told me all about it.'
'She told you who framed me?' His heart quickened.
'Oh yes. You'd like to know of course.' Horton knew Parnham was playing with him. 'Maybe I'll tell you before I kill you. I suppose it would be a kindness. Move on, inspector.'
He jabbed the gun in Horton's back and continued, 'Of course Jarrett's smuggling pornography.'
'How do you know?'
'Lucy told me, although she didn't really need to. I've been out with Jarrett several times. I know a great deal about Colin Jarrett. It could come in useful.'
'I doubt it, he's dead.'
Parnham halted for a moment. 'Is he?'
'You didn't kill him?'
'No. Pity. Still to get back to Culven.' He prodded the gun in Horton's back and urged him forward. 'We went down onto the beach; it was dark and foggy. I was walking behind him, throwing stones into the sea like you do, and then I strangled him. He wasn't a very strong man. I dragged him along the beach so he wouldn't be washed out to sea and then I stripped him and bundled his clothes up and put them in the boot of his Mercedes. I then drove it to Horsea Marina where I planted the letters in his house. I could use him to really make Melissa suffer. I guessed the police would arrest her. Quite a good idea, don't you think? Then I took the car to Stansted Woods and flashed it up. I ran back to Emsworth from there, got in the tender and took the Free Spirit out. I set it adrift after getting into the tender and motored it round to Eastney Lake where I left it and then jogged back to Lucy's flat where I stayed until I headed to the ferry port to coincide with the time of my ferry and took a taxi home, carrying the bag I'd previously left at Lucy's. Quite a good bit of improvisation that, wouldn't you say?'
'So there was no affair between Melissa and Culven?'
'None whatsoever. The letters were clever, weren't they? Twins, you see, sometimes have identical handwriting. I'd managed to get a sample of her writing all those years ago, from the house but I needn't have bothered. It was the same as mine. It confirmed what I already knew, that we were related.'
They were in front of the garage. Horton was soaked to the skin. The rain was lashing against him, dripping off his ears and his nose.
'Don't you think it's a very capable revenge, inspector?'
'It won't stand up in court.'
'Oh but it will. There's only you left, inspector, and you won't be around for much longer.'
Parnham opened the boot of Melissa's Ford. Could he swing round and head butt Parnham, or at least ram his head into his belly and wound him. But Parnham must have sensed his motives. Before Horton had the chance, something came down violently on the back of his head and the blackness swallowed him up.
CHAPTER 17
He was moving slowly and jerkily. With each violent tug pain screamed through his body. Horton could hear grunting. He didn't think it was coming from him but it could have been. Someone was pounding on his head as if they'd found a new substitute for a drum and he was being hauled along the ground. He was drenched from the rain that was beating against his battered body and at any moment he thought the scream inside his head might erupt through his mouth and at the same time spill his stomach's contents. He fought to control his pain and nausea because he realised that he was encased in something.
He tried to get his bearings and some semblance of clear thinking into his befuddled mind and along with the loss of one of his senses came the acuteness of another. He sniffed. Beyond the smell of the sea he could smell dog. He was wrapped in something, a blanket? What had happened to Bellman? Where was he? Perhaps he was still with the dog handler? Perhaps Parnham had killed him too, because by now Melissa must be dead.
The dragging and grunting continue. Where had Parnham brought him? What was he going to do with him? How could he get away? He pushed the drum out of his head and urged his sluggish mind to start thinking of a way out of this. The ground scraped at the blanket and tore into him. His body twisted and turned with the movement. Parnham was pulling him.
He tried to move his legs but they were tied, as were his hands, behind his back. Parnham had mentioned a drowning accident but he would have to untie him before throwing him into the sea if he wanted it to look like suicide. To untie him meant he'd have to lean over and that might be the only chance Horton would get before Parnham knocked him unconscious again. He struggled against his bonds. He was soaked from the rain. What would they say when his body was washed up along the south coast: that he had committed suicide rather than face the disgrace of a suspension? That he couldn't face the fact that he'd killed Lucy Richardson and Colin Jarrett? Melissa would be dead and Uckfield and others would believe she had taken her own life after killing her husband and lover. Her twin brother would be found and inherit the estate. How nice and tidy. What an easy way out for them. And Emma would grow up believing her father to be both a pervert and a murderer. He wouldn't have it, he couldn't. The thought filled him with a fury so fierce that it blotted out any pain he was feeling and he struggled against the bonds.
There would be a moment when Parnham would reach the shore. It was coming now, the hard ground gave way to the shingle and stones, the shells were jarring against him and cutting through the blanket into his flesh. He could hear the waves crashing onto the shore, sucking the stones back as they receded then tossing them again onto the beach. Parnham would be exhausted. He was strong to have hauled him the short distance to the shore but the effort must have weakened him.
Horton tensed his aching body. He had to marshal his strength. There would be a split second when Parnham would stop, then he would need to untie the blanket and him. It was a risk, a big one, a gigantic gamble that could cost him his life but he decided it might be the only one he had.
