down on him.'
Maybe she was right. Horton wouldn't put it past Farnsworth. Perhaps there was another of Farnsworth's women who was disappointed he hadn't shown up last night. To Horton's reckoning Farnsworth must have met his killer soon after his release from the station, otherwise he would have missed the high tide; always given Farnsworth had gone there by sea. There had been no sign of his car in the sailing centre car park when he'd checked.
Cantelli was saying, 'She waited all night for him to call her to apologize or creep into her bed but he didn't do either. This morning she thought sod him. She didn't go into his room and she didn't call him. Now she thinks that if she had done she might have saved his life.'
'Unlikely.'
'That's what I told her.'
'And the cameraman, Jason Kirkwood?'
'Hates the sight and sound of Farnsworth and doesn't blame someone for killing him. Said Farnsworth had it coming and that it was probably some irate husband or lover. In his opinion the killer deserves a medal.'
'So where was he last night?'
'In the hotel, drinking at the bar until ten thirty. Lee checked. The barman remembers him. Then he claims he was in his room, alone, all night. I told them both not to leave the hotel without informing us. Kirkwood seemed to like the idea of the production company picking up his bills whilst he continues to live in the lap of luxury. The press look as though they're setting up camp in reception, Andy. I take it Superintendent Uckfield will call a conference.'
You bet he will, thought Horton. Any chance to get his face on the television. And he was welcome to it. It was a chore that Horton didn't relish. And he knew they needed all the help they could get to gain information about Farnsworth's whereabouts the previous night. He'd called Ray Tomsett, the harbour master, on his way back to the station in the patrol car. Ray hadn't seen any boats in the channel the previous night or early this morning and he'd had no reports of anything untoward. He said he would ask the fishermen and bait diggers.
'Did Farnsworth make a will?'
'Corinna doesn't know. It never came up in their conversations.'
'No, I can see how it wouldn't,' Horton said wryly. Farnsworth was the type to think he was immortal.
'Perhaps they'll find one at his house in Haslemere. He must be worth a few bob.'
He probably was, but Horton didn't see that as a motive for killing him. 'Where's Perry Jackson?'
'With a man called Nathan Lester at Fort Cumberland. Corinna was going to call him, but I said we'd break the news to him ourselves.'
'Good.' Horton recalled that Nathan Lester had been the name that Gary Manners, the secretary of the sub- aqua club, had given him as one of Daniel Collins's diving partners.
'Pick me up, Barney. Tell Lee to bag up any personal papers and bring them back to the station, and to get Farnsworth's computer over to the computer-crime unit. Oh, and give me Farnsworth's mobile phone number.'
Cantelli relayed it. Horton rang off, but he didn't replace the receiver. Instead he dialled another number. It took a while to be answered but eventually a tired voice greeted him.
'I'm sorry to disturb you, Mrs Collins,' he said, after quickly announcing himself. 'But there's something I need to check with you. When you phoned in and spoke to Detective Constable Lee before we came to visit you, did you mention to her where Daniel worked?'
'I can't remember. I'm sorry. I was so angry and upset. I might have done. I'm not sure. Is it important?'
'No,' he reassured her. He hadn't really expected any other answer.
'Is there any news?'
'Not yet, I'm afraid.' He could hear her disappointment in the short silence that followed. 'Did Daniel ever mention a man called Nicholas Farnsworth?'
'That's the television diver. Daniel used to record and watch the programme.'
'Nothing more than that?'
'No. Why?'
He hesitated for a moment, then thought that she'd find out soon enough. 'We're investigating his death. His body was found this morning at Oldham's Wharf.'
Silence. When she eventually spoke, her voice shook. 'Do you think this man's death has something to do with Daniel's?'
'It's too early to say. I'll keep you informed. Meanwhile if anything occurs to you that you think might help us, please let me know.'
'I will.'
He knew she wanted to ask more questions, but he didn't have the answers to give her, and maybe she sensed that. Plucking his sailing jacket from the radiator, he wondered if Lee had seen Daniel Collins going in and out of the Rest Haven whilst it was under surveillance. Was it still under surveillance? Only one way to check, but that would have to wait.
To Walters he said, 'Any joy with Collins's list of friends?'
'There's only a handful and no one saw him on Christmas Eve, or have any idea where he went. And they all say Daniel Collins never touched alcohol.'
He gave Farnsworth's mobile phone number to Walters and told him to check Farnsworth's calls and see if he'd ever rung Daniel Collins. Then he dived into the canteen and bought a couple of packets of sandwiches. He doubted that Cantelli would have eaten and even if he had, the sergeant would always eat again. He'd never seen a man put away so much food and stay resolutely wiry.
In the custody block Horton addressed a slender woman in her early fifties. 'Who was on duty last night when Nicholas Farnsworth was booked in?'
She consulted her computer. 'John Gatcombe.'
'Did Farnsworth kick up a fuss, seem upset, worried or angry?'
'John didn't say when I took over this morning. Farnsworth was hardly here five minutes before he was released according to this.' She nodded at the computer screen.
No help there then. He would need to talk to the arresting officer, though he also made a mental note to talk to John Gatcombe when he came on duty that night.
Horton checked the time. Cantelli would be here any moment, but he'd wait for him. Quickly he doubled back and headed up the stairs of the new extension to the major incident suite where, across the crowded room, he could see Trueman inscribing on the crime board.
'Where's Dennings?' Horton asked, after weaving his way through the additional personnel drafted in for the investigation.
Trueman had written up the time of the autopsy; two fifteen p.m. Besides that was a photograph of Perry Jackson and Nicholas Farnsworth taken from yesterday's newspaper and a picture of Farnsworth's body both with and without the diving mask. There was also a close-up of the mutilated hand and again Horton considered the significance of those missing fingers, though he couldn't come up with any new ideas.
'Still at the scene,' Trueman answered.
Horton's mind conjured up Dennings facing Oldham; an exchange he wouldn't have minded witnessing. Two bull mastiffs squaring up to each other flitted into his head and made him secretly smile before knocking on Uckfield's door.
Horton quickly relayed his telephone conversation with Cantelli. 'We're off to interview Jackson. As far as I'm aware he doesn't yet know the news about his buddy.'
'If you get anything before three o'clock call me. I'm giving a press conference.'
Horton couldn't resist asking Uckfield if his latest sexual conquest would be present: their PR lady, Madeleine Dewbury.
'She will, and you can wipe that smirk off your face. It's over between us,' Uckfield hissed, his eyes flicking beyond Horton to the door. 'Only she doesn't know it yet. I haven't had a chance to tell her, so keep it shut.'
'Anything you say.'
Uckfield picked up his phone, clearly indicating their conference was over and Horton headed to the rear exit to find Cantelli waiting for him.
