Irene Ebury. If she had been killed. There was that half landing where the stairs turned. The window looked out on to the flat-roofed extension of the kitchen and the gardens beyond. It was, as far as he had seen, the only window which wasn't double glazed. It made a good entry point.
He said, 'When did you last see Mrs Ebury alive?'
'I gave her her medication at eight thirty and made sure she was in bed. Then I checked that she and Mrs Kingsway and our other residents were all asleep before…'
'Yes?' prompted Horton.
'Before we had a drink to see the New Year in,' she said defiantly.
'We?'
'The staff. We cracked open a couple of bottles of wine. Well, why not? It was New Year's Eve.'
'What time did you start drinking?'
For a moment she looked as though she might tell Horton it was none of his business. Then she said, 'Just before midnight.'
Horton doubted that. More like nine o'clock, he thought. Maybe Walters would get the truth from the other staff.
'Why all this interest in her?' she asked.
'What kind of things did she talk about, apart from being Miss Southsea and her movie star conquests?' Horton knew that the easiest way to avoid answering a question was to ask another one.
'Not much. I didn't really listen.'
'When you're on duty, do you use the same office as Mrs Northwood?'
'Yes, why?' She looked both surprised and suspicious.
'And do you always lock it when you leave it?'
'Of course.'
Horton didn't know whether to believe her. She held his stare defiantly, but there was that wariness in the back of her eyes.
'When was the last time you entered the basement?'
She looked startled. 'I'm in and out of there all the time.'
Cantelli looked up from his notebook. 'And when did you last check on Mrs Ebury's belongings?'
She looked at each of them in turn. Her face flushed. 'So that's it! They've been stolen and you think I did it. Who pointed the finger at me? I bet it was that cow Angela Northwood. She's never liked me. Well, they can poke their job.' She stubbed out her cigarette with such violence that Horton thought she'd go through the brick mantelpiece.
'The drawer was forced open. You didn't notice it when you went down there?'
'No, I bloody didn't.'
'Did you show Dr Eastwood up to Mrs Ebury's room?'
She glared at him and folded her arms against her flabby bosoms. 'Yes,' she snapped. 'He arrived about half an hour after I called him.'
'And was Mrs Kingsway awake?'
'I woke her not long after I found Irene dead. I got one of the care assistants, Cheryl, to take her downstairs and make her a cup of tea. That's it. I'm not answering any more questions.' She picked her way through the debris and flung open the door. The wind and rain rushed inside, but she held her ground.
So, it couldn't have been the doctor that Mrs Kingsway had seen bending over Irene Ebury. Perhaps she had dreamt it. Either that or there really had been an intruder.
Turning on the threshold, Horton took a lingering look around the dishevelled room not bothering to hide his disgust. His eyes swivelled to Marion Keynes and she shifted uneasily under his hostile gaze.
'Where does your husband work, Mrs Keynes?'
'None of your fucking business,' she blazed, slamming the door on him.
Cantelli zapped open the car. 'Nice woman.'
'Yeah, pity we don't meet more like her.'
Cantelli smiled. 'What bloody awful kids. She's got no control over them. If they were mine.'
'They certainly wouldn't be spoilt brats like that.'
'Makes you tremble to think what they'll turn out like.'
'We'll probably be picking up the results of it in years to come.'
'Some of those toys were pretty expensive,' Cantelli added, pulling away. 'I know because Joe wanted one of those computer games that were lying around the floor. I couldn't afford one on a sergeant's pay, let alone three that I saw there. Makes you wonder where the Keynes got the money from.'
'Could be bought on credit.'
'Or perhaps she stole Irene's jewellery and flogged it.'
That was a possibility which Horton had already considered. 'I wouldn't put it past her. She's sloppy, uncaring, and unfeeling. The Rest Haven is well shot of her.'
'Why become a nurse?'
'To make herself feel superior, I expect.' Horton caught Cantelli's worried glance. 'It happens, Barney, you know that as well as I do. It's how some people get their kicks by bullying the elderly, frail and vulnerable.'
'But nurses are meant to care,' Cantelli protested.
'Most of them do, but you know as well I do that now and again you come across the odd callous bastard or bitch, who either believes they're put on this earth to rid it of those they consider inferior and weak, or they're evil and greedy.'
'Then I think we should investigate Marion Keynes more thoroughly,' declared Cantelli vehemently.
'Walters will tell us what time the staff really started drinking and if it was just before midnight like she says then I'll resign.' Then Horton had another thought and one he didn't much care for. He recalled the uniform that Mrs Northwood had been wearing: dark trousers and a white tunic type top. If Marion Keynes had pinned up her lank blonde hair, and had had her back to Mrs Kingsway could the old lady have mistaken her for a man?
Cantelli seemed to have been following the same train of thought.
'Do you think Marion Keynes could have killed Irene Ebury?' he said, easing the car into a queue of rush-hour traffic.
Horton considered it for a moment and found the answer disturbing. 'I think she could be capable of it. Perhaps she stole Irene's belongings before Christmas, and sold the jewellery to buy those presents. Then Irene asks to see her belongings, so while everyone was getting merry on New Year's Eve, Marion slips up to Irene's room and finishes her off. Mrs Kingsway wakes and sees the back of Marion Keynes leaning over Irene's bed and mistakes her for a man because of the uniform.'
He was glad he hadn't mentioned anything about an alleged intruder to Marion Keynes. If she decided to return to work, and she thought that Mrs Kingsway could identify her, then he could have put the elderly lady's life at risk. That was always supposing Marion Keynes was a killer.
'We'll see what Dr Clayton gets from the autopsy. In the meantime it won't do any harm to dig a bit deeper into Marion Keynes' financial background. Find out what her husband does, Barney, and how many other care homes she's worked in. Also get out a full description of the jewellery to all the usual fences and shops.'
'You going to tell Bliss?'
'What do you think?'
Cantelli dropped him off at the station and headed for home. Horton pushed back the door to the custody cell block and the heat hit him like a bomb blast. Along with it came the smell of sweat, dirt, shit and something indefinable to anyone but a police officer.
'Has someone died in here and no one's bothered to check?'
'Sorry, sir. Two junkies brought in this morning. Haven't had a chance to put them through the sheep dip yet.'
If only, Horton thought.
'Oh, and DCI Bliss was asking for you, sir. Wants to see you as soon as you come in.'
Now what? Who complained? Jackson or Farnsworth? Marion Keynes perhaps? No, he didn't think so. Probably more like Colin Anston or Geoffrey Welton from the prison.
Knocking first, then entering her office, he drew up startled. She was clearing her desk. Her usually pale skin
