all? No. He didn't want to believe it.
Cantelli said, 'Uckfield's on his way to see you, Andy. Says he'll meet you at the nature reserve opposite Port St Helens. Do you know where he means?'
Horton did. Uckfield could have picked a drier location, but there was logic in his choice. No one would be on the footpath that skirted Brading Marshes in this weather. And it was screened from the road by trees, shrubs and the lagoons.
Locking the boat, Horton hurried across the harbour causeway to find Uckfield's silver BMW already parked in the small yard opposite the entrance to the reserve. He hadn't gone far into it before he spotted a short, square-set man wearing a long green waxed coat with a cap pushed low over his head peering through binoculars across the salt marshes. Horton smiled to himself. Despite the clothes and binoculars, this was not Uckfield's natural habitat. The big man stood out like a hooker at a high-class wedding. Uckfield had never been any good at covert operations.
'Seen anything interesting?' Horton asked as he drew level.
'Not a fucking dickie bird. Anyone follow you?' Uckfield lowered the binoculars.
'No.'
'Can't say I blame them in this shit-awful weather.'
Uckfield was right. There was no hiding place from the relentless rain, which had already seeped through Horton's trousers to his skin. He refrained from sounding off about Somerfield's incompetence — it would achieve nothing — and instead asked what Trueman had dug up on Thea Carlsson. He was curious to know more about the girl who had got under his skin so much.
Uckfield said, 'She's twenty-eight, has dual nationality, British and Swedish, like her brother, and works as a translator for the European Union. Or rather she did until eleven days ago when she sent an email to her boss saying she was going on unscheduled leave and wasn't sure when she'd be back.'
Horton rapidly calculated that had been Sunday, which tied in with what Evelyn Mackie had told him — Thea had arrived at her brother's house on the following Monday.
Uckfield said, 'She gave no reason and no one's heard from her since.'
What had prompted her to take such drastic action? Horton wondered. Had Owen told her he was in danger?
Uckfield continued. 'She lives in Luxembourg and speaks Danish, German and Swedish.'
A clever girl. But there was more, Horton could see it in Uckfield's scowling expression. 'And?'
Uckfield sniffed noisily. 'Owen Carlsson was working on a high-profile European environmental project. It's believed his death and his sister's sudden departure could have something to do with it.'
Ah, so that was it. He thought of those files in Owen's study. Could that be why the house had been set alight, to destroy one of them in particular? Perhaps the intruder couldn't find the file he wanted, or maybe Horton had disturbed him before he'd had a chance to properly search. Setting fire to the house with Thea in it would wipe out two problems with one match: the file and the chance that Owen might have confided in his sister. Or had Thea been involved in translating something Owen had been working on?
He said as much to Uckfield, adding, 'That could be why Thea looked so terrified when I found her. She could have known this person intended to kill her too, and now she's been abducted. The driver of the car she was seen getting into could have had a gun pointing at her.'
'In that case she's already dead.'
With a sinking feeling Horton knew it could be true, but he said, 'Who called you in?' It couldn't have been DCI Birch.
'Reg.'
The Chief Constable and Uckfield's father-in-law. Given what Uckfield had just said about Owen's European environmental project Horton had wondered if it might have been Europol.
Uckfield said, 'He had a telephone call from a woman called Laura Rose-'
'Laura!' Horton exclaimed. 'She's the woman Knowles mentioned on Owen Carlsson's answer machine. Owen had a meeting arranged with her for yesterday.'
'Yeah. She's an adviser to the European Commission Environment Directorate, and she was getting increasingly worried when this Knowles bloke said he had been trying to get hold of Owen Carlsson since Monday morning without any joy. When Carlsson still didn't reply by Wednesday morning, Laura Rosewood called the local station to be told that Owen had been posted as missing by his sister. She then called Reg. They're old friends. Reg called DCI Birch to be told that Thea Carlsson was being questioned and DI Horton had found Carlsson's body in a bunker. I've got an appointment with her tomorrow morning at eleven.'
'Not sooner?' Horton asked, surprised and annoyed.
'She's in London but she lives here on the island and doesn't get back until late tonight, and before you ask I don't know what Owen was working on. Ms Rosewood told Reg it was too complex to explain over the telephone, and that it could be controversial. The chief asked me to keep it quiet for now.'
Horton stared at Uckfield disbelievingly. 'So in the meantime we twiddle our thumbs awaiting Ms Rosewood's pleasure. This could be vital information.'
'Twenty-four hours won't make much difference.'
Horton could hardly believe what he was hearing. 'It could to Thea's life,' he cried.
'It's probably got nothing to do with the case,' Uckfield said defensively.
'Well I hope to God you're right because I wouldn't like it on my conscience.'
'She's really got to you, hasn't she?'
Horton didn't answer. He didn't like Uckfield's sneering tone but he knew better than to rise to his bait. After a moment, controlling his impatience and his anger, he said, 'What about this man Knowles? He must know what the project's about.'
'He's in the Shetland Islands.'
'Says who?' scoffed Horton.
'Ms Rosewood. Apparently he's examining how the Shetland Islanders use wind power. They get plenty of it up there. We're checking it out. Isn't this ruddy rain ever going to stop?' Uckfield glared at it as though he could frighten it into submission before turning and heading back to his car. Horton fell into step beside him feeling far from happy with the turn of events.
'Meanwhile we explore other avenues,' Uckfield continued. 'Maitland's confirmed that the fire at Owen Carlsson's house was started by igniting petrol which was poured all over the hall.'
Petrol meant car. Had the arsonist come with the intention of setting light to the house then? Had he known that the police had released Thea or had he been hoping to search alone and finding Thea there had to change his plans? Whoever it was who had attacked him, and set fire to the house, must have travelled there by car. Horton tried to recall the vehicles he'd seen parked in the road. In his anxiety for Thea he hadn't been paying much attention. There had been a white van, no lettering on it; a Volkswagen campervan behind it, a Golf GTI, a blue Ford Mondeo and a silver Audi. There were no motorbikes and he couldn't remember any registration numbers. He mentioned this to Uckfield.
'The fat sergeant is handling that,' Uckfield replied. 'He's knocking on doors.'
Horton guessed Uckfield meant Sergeant Norris, who was big, but not as overweight as Uckfield. They crossed the road.
'Marsden is checking out the gun clubs,' Uckfield added. 'And Somerfield is helping with calls after my appeal for sightings of Owen Carlsson.'
So no one was asking around Seaview for witnesses to Arina Sutton's death. Horton said as much and got the tart reply that it wasn't a priority. Horton understood that, but he couldn't help thinking it might be significant.
Uckfield zapped open the car. As Horton's wet trousers squelched on Uckfield's leather seats, Uckfield said, 'Birch believes Thea Carlsson is involved in her brother's death. She got someone to kill him who then attempted to silence her.'
'Why the devil would she do that?'
'People do kill their relatives.'
Horton could see that Uckfield agreed with Birch, which was probably why he was in no hurry to interview Ms Rosewood. Horton thought back to the fire. He had let himself into the house using the key Thea had given him, which meant she must have had a second key, or perhaps Owen kept a spare hidden somewhere. The front door
