demanded, his tone brooking no objections.
'Of course,' Cantelli replied easily. Horton knew it wasn't strictly a lie. Sebastian Gilmore would be the first person outside of the investigation to be told the results.
After a moment's silence, Horton said, 'We believe your brother knew a man called Tom Brundall-'
'God, there's a name I haven't heard for years!'
'You know him?' Horton asked, surprised.
'Of course. We all worked together: Tom, Rowley and me. We were fishermen. Didn't you know?'
Ignoring the sneering tone, Horton recalled that DC Marsden had said Tom Brundall's father had been a fisherman so Tom must have followed in his father's footsteps, but he'd had no idea that Rowland Gilmore had also been one. Now, looking at Sebastian Gilmore, he could see that only the ocean could be big enough to encompass this giant of a man, and he wouldn't mind betting that that was where Sebastian Gilmore's heart really lay. Here was a definite connection but he didn't see how it could help him. He didn't recall his mother talking about fishing or fishermen.
He said, 'Did you know that Tom Brundall was killed in a fire on his boat in Horsea Marina on Wednesday night?'
Sebastian's eyes tightened. There was something behind them that Horton couldn't quite read. It wasn't fear and it wasn't shock. Neither was it sorrow. Before he could analyse it though the door was thrust open, and Sebastian's rugged face lit up.
'My daughter, Selina,' he introduced.
Horton swivelled round to see a slender woman in her mid twenties. His eyes followed her as she swiftly crossed to her father's side. There was a petulant confidence in her stance and, Horton noted with interest, some hostility. She was fashionably dressed in tight jeans and a low-cut T-shirt underneath a leather jacket. She had her father's determined set of the chin, and swiftness of movement, but not his build. It was a neat little figure made taller by her high-heeled boots over her jeans.
'Selina, these are policeman. They think your Uncle Rowley was murdered.'
'Bloody hell!' She looked understandably shocked, but whether it was at the abruptness of her father's announcement or the fact that Rowley had been murdered, Horton couldn't tell. A bit of both he guessed, which he found rather odd if Sebastian Gilmore was telling the truth about not seeing his brother for twelve years. How old would Selina have been then: fifteen? Sixteen? And if that was the first time Sebastian had seen Rowland since leaving Portsmouth then Selina couldn't have known her uncle very well.
Gilmore looked up at her and said, 'A man called Tom Brundall was killed in a fire on his boat and he and Rowley used to work with me years ago. I hope I'm not about to be bumped off, Inspector.'
'Is my father in danger?' she demanded with a flick of her highlighted blonde hair, and a belligerent expression.
Horton didn't know. 'When did Tom Brundall work for you, Mr Gilmore?'
'He worked for my dad first, like Rowley and me. I started on the boats in 1967. I was sixteen, but Tom had been working for Dad for some years before that. I was put with Tom on my first boat. I quickly became a skipper and then Tom used to come out with me. Rowley joined me straight from school in 1969. Dad had three boats then, sailing out of the Camber. I took over the business when he became ill in 1979, that's when Rowley decided to leave. He never really liked fishing. He left Portsmouth shortly after that.'
Horton mentally and swiftly ran through a checklist of dates: Rowland's wife and daughter died in 1980; he was ordained in 1985, and returned to Portsmouth in 1995.
Horton asked, 'When did your brother marry?'
'I can't remember. 1973 or thereabouts. Why do you want to know?' Sebastian frowned, puzzled.
Dr Clayton had told him that Rowland had been born in 1953 so he had been only twenty when he married; maybe it had been a case of having to. So how did Rowland know Jennifer Horton and when had they met? And had Sebastian Gilmore known her too? It wasn't a question he could ask yet, but Sebastian Gilmore had shown no reaction to his name.
'Did your brother have a share in your father's business?'
'I bought him out when he decided to call it quits. I gave him a fair price. He didn't complain.' Gilmore said, slightly defensively.
Interesting, thought Horton, a touchy subject as far as Sebastian Gilmore was concerned.
'Rowley took the money and that was the last time I saw him until twelve years ago.'
'And when did Tom Brundall decide that being a fisherman wasn't what he wanted?'
'1978.'
It was a year engraved on Horton's heart and mind. The year his mother left him. Horton went cold as the thoughts that had been forming in the back of his mind suddenly crystallized.
Sometimes a thing is so obvious that it has to be pushed in your face several times before you notice it and now he saw that the 'wrong' Rowland Gilmore had mentioned and which Brundall wanted to confess, could be something to do with his mother's disappearance. Had they killed her? The thought stole the breath from his body. It didn't bear contemplating. He was mad even to think it, and he had no real evidence except those bloody newspaper articles and that overheard conversation. But that could mean anything, he told himself. Why should they kill his mother? It didn't make sense.
Gilmore said, 'We came back from fishing one day and Tom said, 'That's it, I've had enough. I'm off,' and I've never heard from him or seen him since.'
Horton was glad that Cantelli stepped in with the questioning because his throat felt like a stretched-out piece of elastic, and this time the pain in his chest wasn't caused by smoke inhalation.
'And you've no idea why he did that or where he went?' Cantelli asked.
'None whatsoever, except that his old man was dead by then. His mother died when he was young, and there was no need for Tom to do as his father bid.'
'Did you know that Tom Brundall became a very wealthy man and that he lived in Guernsey?'
Horton watched Sebastian Gilmore carefully. He didn't look surprised or bothered by the fact.
'Tom was clever, and he was very good at figures. I remember he couldn't stick the smell of fish or being out in the rough weather. But back then you followed in your father's footsteps, not like now. Oh, except Selina's different.' He threw his daughter a proud and fond look.
She said, 'I'm the sales director.'
'And a bloody good one,' Gilmore boasted proudly. 'We wouldn't have won that new supermarket contract without her.'
She was young for such a responsible position, thought Horton, though clearly her father's daughter by the fact that she could negotiate lucrative contracts with the supermarkets at such a tender age. A tough little cookie, and an ambitious one if Horton was any judge. Gilmore's was in secure hands. Cantelli had given him time to get his emotions under control and he needed that for his next question.
'Tom Brundall called on your brother shortly before he died. Do you know why?'
Gilmore eyed him shrewdly. 'So that's it, is it?'
'Did Brundall come to see you?'
'No.'
Truth or a lie? Sebastian Gilmore held his eye contact. Again, Horton thought he saw something which he couldn't quite fathom. 'Have you any idea why he should come to Portsmouth?'
'It was his hometown, so why shouldn't he?'
Gilmore didn't look as if he was being evasive or lying, but Horton saw in front of him a tough man well versed in the art of negotiation. Unless Horton was very much mistaken, this Gilmore could bluff, cajole, lie and bully with the best of them without blinking an eye. Rather different from his brother, Horton suspected. OK, so let's see how he reacts to the next bit of news.
'Brundall was overheard to say that he wanted to confess to your brother something that they did wrong some years ago. Do you know what he meant by that?'
Gilmore looked puzzled. 'I've no idea.'
Horton wasn't convinced. All Gilmore's reactions were right but Horton's finely tuned antennae told him that Gilmore knew a hell of a lot more than he was saying.
'Were your brother and Tom Brundall friendly outside of work?'
