'No.'
They hadn't yet seen a copy of the book and Horton now doubted that it mattered anyway. There was a brief silence in which Horton strained for any sounds in the house. All he could hear was the whirring of the central heating. What was Elms not telling them? Horton felt sure there must be something, or was that just desperation on his part? Probably.
Elms asked, 'Who is her mother?'
'Was.' corrected Horton. 'She died in 1990, along with her husband, in a car accident at Seaview.'
Elms looked surprised but that could have been faked.
'Tragic. But why was their daughter…?' Elms paused.
Cantelli prompted him. 'You've thought of something?'
'Just the accident you mentioned in Seaview. There was hit-and-run there about three weeks ago.'
'Arina Sutton.'
'That's right. Such a nice lady.'
Horton resisted throwing a glance at Cantelli. Keeping the excitement from his voice he said, 'You knew her?'
'Yes. Well, not exactly, but I'd met her.'
'When?' asked Cantelli casually, pencil poised.
Elms thought for a moment. Horton wasn't sure if it was for show or he really was trying to remember. After a moment Elms said, 'It was just before Christmas. Would you like the exact date, Sergeant?'
'Please.'
Elms rose. 'I'll check my diary.'
He left the room. Horton swiftly and silently crossed to the door to make sure Elms wasn't hovering outside. He saw him disappear into the back room. 'What do you think?' asked Cantelli.
'He's a phoney but this link with Arina Sutton could be interesting.'
Horton could hear Elms moving about. 'Hope he's not hiding anything in there.' Like something of Thea's. But why would Elms want to kidnap and kill Thea? No, he was miles off beam with that one.
He said, 'Did you get a search warrant for Scanaford House?' He'd forgotten to ask earlier. 'Yes. It should be through this afternoon along with the warrants for Danesbrook's house and Bella Westbury's cottage.'
Horton doubted they'd find anything though. Bella was too wily for that. This case was really getting to him now. He was sick of it and he was desperate to find Thea Carlsson.
Elms entered with a frown and a diary. 'I went to Scanaford House on the sixth of December.'
'You had an appointment there with Ms Sutton?' Cantelli asked.
'Yes. I'm researching for a new book-'
'Lost Ghosts of the Isle of Wight Part Two,' posed Cantelli.
Elms smiled. 'Something like that.'
Horton scoffed, 'The father who murdered his daughter and threw her body in the lake.'
'You know about it?' Elms said, surprised.
'I thought everyone did. Why the interest now?' Horton saw Elms start slightly at the sharpness of his tone.
'I don't know what you mean by now,' he said haughtily.
Horton laughed derisively. 'Oh, I think you do.' He held Elms' stare, saw him flush and look away.
Picking at a corner of the diary and avoiding eye contact, Elms said, 'Sir Christopher Sutton would never let me in or near the house.'
And I don't blame him, thought Horton. He wouldn't have let the likes of Elms within spitting distance of his boat.
Wriggling up his nose, Elms added, 'He said he didn't want it becoming a spectacle for all the… ghost hunters in the UK.'
And I bet he expressed his opinions more vehemently than that, thought Horton, seeing Elms' discomfort. 'So, why the change of heart?'
'His daughter must have persuaded him, and besides Sir Christopher was dying of cancer.'
Cantelli said, 'You knew that?'
'Not until I arrived.'
'But what sparked you to telephone Miss Sutton after having been refused a visit for so long?' asked Cantelli, bewildered.
'I read an article in the local newspaper about the public meeting on the wind farms. There was a photograph of Sir Christopher Sutton with a group of people and one of them was his daughter, Arina. I didn't even know he had a daughter until then, so I thought I'd try her. She might be more sympathetic to my needs. I telephoned the house. She answered. I explained that all I wanted to do was to see the lake and the house and, if permitted, take some photographs for my new book. She agreed and we made arrangements for me to call round on the sixth of December. She told me her father was termin ally ill and wasn't to be disturbed, but he must have got wind of me being there because he came on to the terrace; or rather I should say staggered. Miss Sutton was pointing out the lake to me.'
Elms fell silent. Horton could see by Elms' expression that something had happened there and it had been rather unpleasant. He hoped it didn't have anything to do with ghosts. He prompted, 'And?'
Elms shifted. 'He went white, and I mean white. He couldn't speak. He just stared at me as if he'd-'
'Seen a ghost, sir?' suggested Cantelli.
'Well, yes, since you put it like that. He looked as though he was about to collapse when Miss Sutton rushed to his side and so did I. We got him into the house and on to the sofa. I left immediately. I could see that Miss Sutton was extremely worried and upset. And now the poor woman herself is dead.' He sighed, a little theatrically Horton thought.
He left a short pause before asking, 'Did Sir Christopher say anything?'
'No.'
'And Miss Sutton?'
'Just that she would call me. She didn't, of course, and then I read about her father's death.'
'You didn't attend their funerals.'
'I didn't want to intrude on the family's grief. And I didn't really know them.'
It was said genuinely enough but Horton wondered why he hadn't. It would have afforded him the perfect opportunity to nose around the gardens and the house, something he, by his own admission, had yearned to do.
'Did Miss Sutton call the housekeeper, Miss Bella Westbury, to help with Sir Christopher?'
'No.'
'Did you see her there?'
'Can't say I did. I didn't know he had a housekeeper, though I'm not surprised considering the size of the place. Do you know what will happen to it now? I wonder if the new owners would let me have a look around the place. Or perhaps I could call there before it's sold. That way I won't inconvenience anyone.'
Cantelli said, 'You'll have to talk to the solicitor, or perhaps Mr Danesbrook will tell you.'
'Who's he?'
Horton studied Elms' expression. He didn't appear to be bluffing.
'A friend of Sir Christopher's,' Cantelli added, as Horton rose.
'Thank you, Sergeant, I will.'
On the threshold Horton said, 'Do you know Jonathan Anmore?'
'No. Should I?'
'Did Thea Carlsson say anything to you, or ask you about a girl.'
'What girl?'
Horton thanked him.
'Was he telling the truth?' Cantelli asked as they pulled away.
'About his visit to Scanaford House or not knowing anyone connected with this case except for the Suttons and Thea?' Horton sighed. 'Probably. But I want a copy of that newspaper article he mentioned, just to make sure he really did see it.'
