Finally Uckfield said, 'Sebastian Gilmore owns a boat, and he keeps it in Horsea Marina.'
Horton covered his surprise. Sebastian hadn't mentioned it, though perhaps he saw no reason to. Was that why Rowland Gilmore had written Horsea Marina on his blotter — because he'd discovered his brother kept a boat there? Perhaps Sebastian had called Rowland and it had come up in the conversation. But why would it have? Had Sebastian telephoned to Rowland to tell him Tom Brundall was moored there? Horton knew he was speculating, but he was curious and he was convinced those words on that blotter related to Brundall's death. And why hadn't Uckfield mentioned this before now? Horton would have asked him, only he saw that there was more to come.
He waited and a moment later was rewarded when Uckfield said, 'He also went out on it on Tuesday afternoon. I saw him. I was on my boat.'
So that was it. Why hadn't Uckfield said so earlier? And what had Uckfield being doing on his boat? Horton couldn't recall it being his day off.
'What kind of boat?' Horton asked.
'A Windy 52 Xanthos.'
Horton whistled softly. Sebastian Gilmore seemed to be doing very well for a humble fisherman with a boat worth over half a million pounds, a mansion house and expensive car. But, of course Sebastian Gilmore was no longer a fisherman, and neither was he humble.
Uckfield said, 'A trip on one of those, with a forty-knot top speed, to Guernsey would be a doddle, but our killer can't be Sebastian Gilmore.'
'You mean you'd like it not to be him.'
'Damn sure I wouldn't.' Uckfield ran his hands through his short cropped hair.
'What time was this?'
Uckfield glared at Horton and said tautly, 'Just before two o'clock. I was checking over the boat. I thought I might take it out over Christmas if the weather improves.'
Horton knew a lie when he heard one. Since when had Uckfield taken time off from work to check out his boat?
He said, 'Did it return to the marina, or go out again?'
'I called the lock keeper. She says it didn't return until Wednesday morning at ten fifteen. I know what you're thinking, Andy.' Uckfield sprang from his seat and began to pace the small office. 'But I'm telling you, just because Sebastian Gilmore has a boat that doesn't make him a killer. Why should he kill Brundall, Sherbourne and Anne Schofield? And I refuse to believe he poisoned his brother.'
Horton recalled to mind the giant of a man and agreed with Uckfield. Poison wouldn't be Sebastian Gilmore's cup of tea, but he could have a motive if he thought his comfortable life was being threatened in some way.
'If he was involved in whatever it was Brundall and Gilmore did wrong, which could be killing our body left in the air-raid shelter, then Sebastian Gilmore wouldn't want it revealed. He has a great deal to lose.'
Before Uckfield could reply there was a knock on the door and without waiting for an answer an immaculately made-up woman in her thirties, with dark hair and wearing a smart trouser suit, swept in. Completely ignoring Horton, her eyes alighted on Uckfield. Horton saw Uckfield start before he leapt up with an irritated frown. Suddenly all was revealed to Horton. Now he knew why Uckfield was uneasy and why he had withheld this information, choosing to bring it to Horton's door when everyone else had gone home. That look told him who Steve's latest mistress was. What was more, Horton recog nized her immediately; standing before him was the woman who had been in the crowd on the night of Brundall's death. He also knew now why Uckfield had arrived so quickly on the scene; they'd been together on Uckfield's boat and it didn't take a great stretch of imagination to guess what they had been doing then and on the Tuesday Uckfield had seen Sebastian Gilmore go out on his boat.
After a quick and pointed glance at her watch she addressed Uckfield directly.
'Superintendent, are you ready? I haven't got much time.'
'I'm giving another press conference tomorrow morning,' Uckfield explained to Horton. 'This is Madeleine Dewbury, our new public relations officer. We need to go through the statement.'
'Ah.'
She held Horton's stare with a haughty contempt before spinning round and striding out.
'Do you need me there?' Horton asked, knowing full well Steve didn't.
'You just concentrate on the case.'
The door slammed behind him.
Horton sat back, frowning. Did Alison Uckfield know about her husband's latest affair? Maybe she did and didn't mind. Steve was a bloody fool to sacrifice so much for a bit of sex, but then he never could resist women, and it made Horton cross that Uckfield got away with it, and kept his marriage intact, when his own had been destroyed on a false allegation. He had never once been unfaithful to Catherine, but he couldn't help wondering if she had been unfaithful to him. Well now he could play the field to his heart's content. He thought of Gaye Clayton and wondered…No, even if it was possible that she fancied him, it was too close to home for an affair, and besides he liked and respected her too much for a casual fling. A serious relationship then? He wasn't sure if he was ready for one of those yet. It meant commitment and whilst he wouldn't have said no to a bit of female company he didn't want complications, or anything that might stand in the way of gaining regular access to Emma. It shouldn't do, but the trouble was he didn't trust Catherine. If she got a sniff of anything she didn't like then she'd seize on him like a bloody jackal and tear him to pieces. Perhaps once their divorce had come through…
Tomorrow he would interview Sebastian Gilmore. And he was looking forward to it. He had sensed that there was something the giant of a man was holding back, and he cursed Uckfield for not coming forward earlier. He had delayed an investigation by withholding information, but then, thought Horton, pushing a hand through his hair, so had he.
He completed the online request for his mother's case notes and then went home. His throat was sore, but he'd risk a run; it might help him pull together the many loose threads of this case which reached back into the past, including his own. When he got back from the shower he found a message on his mobile phone. It was Uckfield. Horton rang him.
'About Madeleine, she shouldn't have barged into your office like that,' Uckfield said quickly. 'There's nothing between us.'
So Madeleine had told Uckfield that she'd been in the crowd on the night of Brundall's death and that Horton must have seen her. And Uckfield was now covering his and her back-sides. 'Steve, it's up to you what you do on your boat.'
'Yes, it bloody well is. We were having a meeting on Wednesday night. It was the only time we could both make it, and I had to go on to that damn function. We were discussing the profile of the police during major crimes. OK?' Uckfield demanded angrily.
'OK.' Horton left a brief pause before adding. 'Have you told Dennings?'
'Why the hell should I? He wasn't there.'
'Sergeant Cantelli was, and he saw Madeleine.'
'Then he'd better keep his mouth shut.'
'About your meeting?' Horton sneered.
Uckfield took a deep breath. 'Look, Andy, neither Madeleine nor I saw anything, just heard a ruddy great explosion and it wasn't orgasmic. I went on deck as soon as I… as soon as it happened, but could see there was little point in trying to do anything. The boat was a raging inferno. I heard the fire engines, then saw a police car arrive. I told Madeleine to hang on for a while. I didn't know the silly cow would stand around gawping at the bloody fire once she left my boat.'
Horton got the impression that Madeleine Dewbury's days as Uckfield's lover and their public relations officer were numbered.
'I called in, got the details and then showed up. Bloody good job I did too, it being a major crime.'
Horton didn't speak. Uckfield was forced to continue. 'This doesn't have to come out. We saw nothing and no one. It has no relevance to the case.'
How many times have I heard that before, thought Horton. And how many times had Steve sneered at the person saying it?
'I'll owe you one,' Uckfield added brightly.
Something in Uckfield's tone made the hairs rise on the back of Horton's neck. Suddenly the answer to many questions that had been bugging Horton for months were answered, such as how did the newly promoted DI
