Horton smiled. 'Not much, I guess. But isn't there another group called REMAF?' he recollected from Owen's office.
She eyed him curiously.
'I read about it in the local newspaper,' he quickly explained.
She seemed to accept this. 'Renewable Energy Means A Future. Owen had to conduct a report for them on the viability of the wind farms. I tried to get Owen to tell us the results at a meeting in October, but he wasn't having any of it. That's how he met Arina. It was love at first sight. Then to be killed by some idiot bastard with no brains between his ears who didn't even bother to stop. And just when she'd found happiness. If it hadn't been for me they'd have never met. I arranged for Owen to give a talk on the environment, and I cajoled Arina into coming with me.'
'I understand you were her housekeeper,' Horton asked casually, sipping his tea and trying not to pull a face. Not a great lover of the brew, this tasted like cats' piss.
'Sir Christopher's really. Arina was an interior designer but she shot home from London to help nurse her father when he became too ill to manage alone. Sir Christopher died on the thirteenth of December. Twenty-one days later Arina is killed by a lunatic driver. She didn't want to stay on at Scanaford House after her father's death. She never really liked the place.'
'Not because it's supposed to be haunted!'
She gave a laugh that reminded Horton of the laughing sailor in the glass booth on Clarence Pier in Southsea. 'Jonathan Anmore tells everyone that old tale.'
'It's not true?'
'Who knows? There was a murder there yonks ago, but if you give Jonathan half an ear he'll embellish it with so many ghosts you'd think they were holding a convention there.'
'Who inherits now Arina's dead?'
'No idea,' she answered sharply. She probably thought he'd come with the intention of making a claim on her estate. 'You'll have to ask Gerald Newland, the solicitor. He's in Newport.'
And Horton, or someone in the major crime team, would. He reckoned that neither Bella Westbury nor the gardener, Jonathan Anmore, had been named in the wills otherwise one of them would probably have said. Or perhaps Bella Westbury did know and wasn't about to confide in a stranger.
'How long have you worked there?' He could see by the slight narrowing of her eyes it was one question too far. She was getting suspicious about his purpose, but she answered him, albeit curtly.
'About a year.'
Horton was surprised. The way she'd been talking he'd assumed she was the old faithful family retainer. Who had Bella replaced? Was it relevant? He didn't really think so, and the way she was eyeing him he guessed he would be pushing his luck asking. It was time he broke the bad news.
He tried a bit of disarming honesty. 'I'm sorry if I'm being too nosy, but I'm trying to understand not only why Arina was killed, but why her boyfriend Owen Carlsson is also dead. But I guess you might have explained that already, with him and Arina being-'
'What do you mean dead?' she interrupted sharply. Her green eyes, as hard as emeralds now, peered at him with such intensity that he felt like a suspect in one of the interview rooms at the station.
'You've not seen the news or heard it on the radio?' he asked, surprised.
'I don't listen to that rubbish.'
He found that slightly puzzling for a woman who was keen on political fighting, and one who had obviously been in the news as well as making it over the years.
He said, 'His body was found at St Helens Duver yesterday morning. He was shot.'
'Good God! He killed himself?'
Which was what Danesbrook had concluded. Horton supposed that was only a natural reaction. He shrugged. 'All I know is that he went missing on Saturday. You didn't see him by any chance?'
'No.' She sipped her tea, but she seemed preoccupied rather than upset.
'Did he say anything to you after Arina's death?'
'Like what?' Her head came up and she eyed him warily.
'Like who might have killed her?'
'Are you saying that he might have known who ran Arina down and was shot because of that?'
'It's just an idea.'
'And not a very realistic one. This is the Isle of Wight not Washington DC.' She rose and poured what was left of her tea down the sink before turning and brusquely saying, 'There's not much more I can tell you about Arina.'
Horton didn't agree but he could see that pressing her would only arouse her suspicions, which, judging by her frosty stare, were already at sub-zero temperatures. He thanked her for her time and the tea and made his way thoughtfully back to the Harley. She, like Danesbrook, had seemed very keen to get shot of him after he'd mentioned Owen Carlsson's death.
He had hoped for one small piece of information that could help him find Thea Carlsson. He hadn't got it. But he did know one thing. Scanaford House was worth a great deal of money, and money was a powerful motive for murder.
NINE
Thursday 6pm
' Arina Sutton must have left a considerable fortune,' Horton said some hours later in a pub not far from the station. Over his Diet Coke, he'd brought Uckfield, Cantelli and Trueman up to speed on his encounters with Danesbrook, Anmore and Bella Westbury. He added, 'We need to talk to the Suttons' solicitor: Newlands.'
'That's also Owen Carlsson's solicitor,' Cantelli said. 'He telephoned this afternoon after hearing about Carlsson's death on the local radio. Says Thea Carlsson hasn't been in touch with him but that Owen made a will. He saved me a call because he formally identified Arina Sutton's body along with Owen Carlsson. I've made an appointment to see him tomorrow.'
'Good. Ask him about both Sir Christopher's and Arina's wills.'
Cantelli nodded. 'I've checked out your man, Danesbrook; he's got form.'
Horton wasn't surprised. 'Drugs?'
'No. Affray and assault. He was arrested in 1996 during the Newbury by-pass campaign for assaulting a security officer.'
Horton recalled the by-pass protest vividly. The road contractors had suffered numerous delays and setbacks. Clearance had been hampered by well-organized activists employing highly effective disruption tactics. They'd built tunnels and tree houses and used themselves as human shields to prevent security men and diggers from moving in and ripping up the countryside. It became known as the 'Third Battle of Newbury' — the other two had occurred in the seventeenth-century English Civil War. There had been a number of arrests and the Thames Valley Police had to ask the government to help towards the enormous cost of policing the protest.
It was a year Horton would never forget for two reasons. Early in the New Year he'd confronted a youth robbing a sub-post office and got himself stabbed in the process, earning a commendation for bravery for managing to arrest the toe-rag. It was also the year he and Catherine had married. His memory conjured up the delicious moments when she used to call round to his flat after work… But that was the past and a treacherous place to be. Thankfully, Cantelli rescued him from it.
'Danesbrook was also arrested in 2000 during the fuel protests.'
'Bit of a rebel then. And violent.' Uckfield looked hopeful. He downed the remainder of his pint and started on a whisky.
Horton thought of Bella Westbury's rebellious past. 'What does he do now?' he asked.
'Draws the dole,' replied Cantelli. 'Or rather lives on benefits, like he seems to have done for most of his life.'
Horton raised his eyebrows. 'How come he drives a new car? Did they give it to him as a Christmas box for
