With a sinking heart he said, 'And is the data Owen already collated lost because of the fire?'

'What fire?' she asked, alarmed.

Obviously hadn't heard about it on the local news then, but Uckfield said she'd only returned from London late last night.

'Owen's house was burnt down on Wednesday evening,' answered Horton.

'My God! And his sister? She wasn't…?'

'No.' Horton didn't see any need to tell her about his or Thea's close encounter.

Uckfield said, 'But she is missing.'

Horton would have preferred to have kept that quiet. And he didn't like the undertone of Uckfield's statement.

Laura said, 'Perhaps she's returned to Luxembourg?'

Horton answered. 'How did you know she lived there?'

'I had a meeting with Owen on the twenty-second of December in Brussels to discuss the project and he mentioned he was spending Christmas with his sister who lives in Luxembourg. I think he would have preferred to be with Arina, especially as she was upset over losing her father. I knew Sir Christopher very well. He was a keen supporter of the environment but I guess Owen had promised his sister and didn't feel he could let her down.'

Horton wondered why Arina hadn't invited both Thea and Owen to Scanaford House; it was big enough to accommodate a football team. But maybe Arina had had other friends to stay. Or perhaps she'd already met Thea and hadn't liked her, or vice versa. He frowned as speculations spiralled freely and didn't much care for where they were taking him.

Laura looked thoughtful for a moment. 'Thea Carlsson didn't set fire to the house by any chance, did she?'

'Why do you say that?' asked Horton sharply.

She shrugged. 'Anger at her brother's death? Despair? Who knows what people are capable of when they're distraught. When Jack died I wanted to lash out at anyone and everything. It passes, but only to be replaced by other emotions equally destructive, like overwhelming sadness. Have you considered that Owen's sister might have been trying to kill herself by setting fire to the house and has now gone off somewhere to try again?'

They hadn't because Horton knew of the intruder, but he hadn't considered the possibility that Thea's grief over her brother's death might have led her to walk out of that hospital with the intention of committing suicide. For a brief and startling moment thoughts of his mother flashed into his mind. Could that have been her intention? No suicide note had been found in the flat, or at least had been given to him. His neighbour had told him recently that his mother had been dressed up and happy on the day of her disappearance. But could she have been mistaken? He'd never once considered her suicide as a possibility. There was no time to analyse it further but he cursed his stupidity for not thinking it a possibility where Thea was concerned. If she had intended killing herself then he guessed she was already dead. His heart felt heavy at the thought.

Laura rose, looking worried. 'Does Terry know about the fire?'

'Not unless someone's told him,' answered Uckfield.

And Horton knew they hadn't because no one could find him. He hadn't known that the Shetland Islands was so big, but at the briefing this morning he'd learnt from Trueman, that it comprised over a hundred islands, fifteen of them inhabited. That made it incredibly difficult to track Knowles down, especially when the man wasn't answering his mobile phone; maybe he couldn't get a signal.

Clearly agitated, Laura said, 'I hope to God that Owen emailed his report to Terry, or kept a back-up copy off the premises. I need to call Terry.'

She made as if to leave when Uckfield halted her. 'We can't get through on his mobile. Do you have another contact number for him?'

'I'll try his office; someone must know where he's staying.'

Horton said, 'We've already tried them. He only left them his mobile number because he was going to be moving about the islands.'

But Knowles had arrived there, Trueman had reported. He'd been on the eight forty-five flight to Glasgow from Southampton Airport on Wednesday morning and had checked in for the thirteen thirty flight from Glasgow to Sumburgh on the Shetland Islands. After that he had gone walkabout. Knowles' office had told Trueman that Knowles wasn't due to meet up with the people who had developed a new system to harness the wind for energy until Tuesday.

Horton said, 'Would Mr Knowles' secretary know if Owen had emailed his report to him before he went missing?'

'I'll get her to check his e-mails.'

'Before you do,' Horton quickly added, 'there are just a few more questions. We won't take up too much more of your time.'

She gave a brief tight smile but didn't resume her seat.

Horton said, 'Would Owen have sent his findings to the European Translation Centre?'

She looked hopeful. 'He might have done.'

And if Thea had been given Owen's findings to translate into Danish, Swedish or German, and her brother had been killed because of it, then so might she have been, he considered gloomily.

With a note of finality to her voice, Laura said, 'I'll check and let you know.'

But Uckfield was not to be hurried. He reached for the last chocolate biscuit. 'Do you know Jonathan Anmore?'

Laura Rosewood looked surprised at the question. 'I've seen him once or twice at Scanaford House. He's the gardener. Why?'

'He's dead.'

Her eyes widened. 'You mean he's been killed?' She looked at each of them in turn with a bewildered expression. 'But this is dreadful. How?'

'He was stabbed.'

Horton studied her as she assimilated this new information. Clearly she was shocked and puzzled by it. Her expression serious, she said, 'And you believe there is a connection between his death and Owen's. But if that's so then Owen's death can't have anything to do with the project.' Relief suddenly flooded her face. 'I'm sorry I can't be more helpful but I need to call Brussels.' This time she headed for the door with a purpose that not even Uckfield could ignore. He swallowed the remains of his coffee, rose and reached out a card to her.

'Call me personally as soon as you have any further information.'

And even if you don't, Horton interpreted Uckfield's gaze. She promised she would and judging by her expression Horton didn't think it would be a chore. But he hadn't quite finished yet. 'Do you know Bella Westbury?' he asked on the doorstep.

'Yes. She's very active on the environmental front, and she was Sir Christopher's housekeeper.'

'And Roy Danesbrook?' Horton thought he might as well ask. He expected Laura Rosewood to look blankly at him but she didn't. Instead a flicker of distaste crossed her face before she answered with a tight smile.

'He runs a charity called Wight Earth and Mind. Sir Christopher was its patron.'

'It's an environmental charity?' asked Horton, surprised. From his brief encounter with Danesbrook he wouldn't have marked him down as a friend of the earth type.

'I believe so, though you'll have to ask Mr Danesbrook about it.'

'You don't like him?' probed Horton, noting her curt tone.

'I don't know him, but let's say that what I have seen of the man, which isn't much, doesn't exactly endear me to him. Over the last year he seemed to worm his way into Sir Christopher's life. I couldn't really understand what Christopher saw in him and although that was his business I couldn't help thinking that Mr Danesbrook was taking advantage of an elderly, sick man.'

And that, thought Horton with an inner nod of satisfaction, was his sentiment exactly.

TWELVE

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