‘Or I guess Luke could have found my details through the directory of company directors. I know Olivia didn’t tell him. Luke told me about his job, but said he wasn’t getting paid until the end of the month and he needed some money until then. He wanted to move out of the place he was living and get a room for himself nearer to work.’
‘Did you believe him?’ asked Horton.
Felton studied the writing on the packet of cigarettes for a moment. When his eyes came up Horton could see the guilt. ‘No. Luke had lied too many times in the past for me to trust him. I told him to ask Kempton’s to sub him some money until the end of the month. He said they wouldn’t give him enough.’
For what? wondered Horton. Not just a room, he was betting.
‘How did he react when you refused him?’
‘He went very quiet and left.’
‘Was that normal behaviour?’
‘No.’ Ashley Felton looked uneasy. ‘Luke used to fly off the handle at the slightest thing, especially if he didn’t get his own way. I was surprised when he didn’t scream and shout at me. After he left I began to wonder if he really had changed in prison and if he was telling the truth about needing the money for a room. Now he’s missing I don’t know what to think. I feel guilty and responsible, especially if it turns out he’s that body in the harbour.’ He shook another cigarette from the packet his trembling hands had been fidgeting with. ‘And what’s worse, a part of me hopes it isn’t Luke while there’s another part that hopes it is. My God, isn’t that awful?’ He ran a hand over his face and jumped up. ‘To think he might have gone away depressed because I didn’t trust him. He told me he had reformed and I just scoffed at him. I thought he wanted money for drugs.’
Horton needed to check if Kelly Masters had arranged an advance on Luke’s wages. He said, ‘His probation officer says Luke was clean.’
Ashley looked distraught. ‘That makes me feel worse.’ He lit his cigarette and crossed to the window. Cantelli raised his eyebrows at Horton, who after a moment said, ‘Where did Luke go to school?’
Ashley spun round, clearly baffled by the question. ‘St Martin’s in Southsea. Why?’
‘Did he have any special friends, someone he might have gone to for help or money?’
‘I see. I don’t know. Not that I remember. Luke was very clever. Or I should say
Cantelli said nothing about Charlotte having worked with Ashley’s mother.
Horton thought he’d sneak in a question or two about Natalie Raymonds. ‘Did Luke ever mention Natalie Raymonds to you?’
He sensed Cantelli’s surprise.
Ashley said, ‘No. I’m sure he didn’t know her.’
‘Did you or your sister know Natalie, or her husband, Julian Raymonds?’
But Ashley was shaking his head.
That seemed to be that. Horton rose and Cantelli followed suit. Putting his notebook away, Cantelli said, ‘If you hear from Luke again, please let us know. Perhaps we could have your telephone number, so we can contact you the moment we have any news.’
Ashley reached for his suit jacket, which was draped over the back of one of the dining chairs, and fishing out a business card he handed it to Cantelli. Eyeing Horton nervously he said, ‘This woman who’s been found dead at Portchester. .’ His eyes flicked to the television screen but Uckfield was no longer on it. ‘Could it. . no, forget it.’
Horton knew exactly what he was thinking: the same as he and Neil Danbury had thought. He asked, ‘Did Luke ever mention a Venetia Trotman?’
‘Is that her name? No.’ He showed them to the door. ‘You’ll let me know the moment you identify the body found in the harbour.’
Horton promised they would. Outside Cantelli said, ‘Why the question about Natalie Raymonds?’
‘Just curious.’
Cantelli rolled his eyes and sighed. ‘I hate it when you say that.’
‘I just want to know what Luke Felton was doing on that coastal path in 1997.’
‘If and when we find him we’ll ask him.’
‘And I guess he still won’t remember.’
‘Then you’ll probably have to learn to live with this huge gap in your knowledge.’ Cantelli unlocked the car.
Horton smiled. ‘It won’t be the only one.’
‘Ashley Felton seems to be in a bit of a state. If you ask me I’d say he’s on the verge of a mental breakdown.’
Yes, and caused by what? Guilt over his rejection of his brother? Business worries? Or perhaps he had health or marital problems? Horton knew all about the latter. With a glance at his watch he thought it was time enough for Dr Clayton to have something on their body from the harbour. He told Cantelli to head for the mortuary.
NINE
‘What happened to you?’ Dr Clayton asked, echoing Walters’ words earlier that morning.
‘I fell in a lock.’
‘Fell?’ she cried incredulously, ‘From your boat! I don’t believe it.’
‘It’s a long story.’
‘And one I haven’t got time to hear at the moment because you, or rather I should say the criminal classes, seem to be keeping me rather busy — that is, if your body in the harbour was killed, and I don’t know that yet. But this poor lady certainly was. You can tell me about your adventure over a drink one day.’
Horton thought that was something worth looking forward to; not so the body on the mortuary slab in front of him. As his eyes fell on Venetia Trotman he tried not to think of her alive on Thursday evening, but he didn’t succeed. His anger was just as raw as on first seeing her lying battered on the grass. Brian, the mortuary attendant, hadn’t undressed her and neither had she been cleaned. ‘Do you have an estimated time of the death?’ he asked.
‘For her or your unknown man?’ asked Gaye.
‘Both, but start with Venetia Trotman.’
‘I didn’t think you were on her case. You weren’t at the scene last night.’
‘I’m not, but go on.’
Shrugging, she said, ‘Last night I put her death some time between one and four on Friday morning.’
Cantelli said, ‘A strange time to be in her garden, and fully clothed.’
‘Agreed, unless she was suffering from some kind of mental illness. She could have been confused and wandered out there.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Horton said firmly, causing Gaye to raise her eyebrows.
‘Why so sure?’
‘I met her.’
‘Ah.’
Obviously Uckfield hadn’t told Dr Clayton that, but then there was no need for him to have done so. Dr Clayton’s estimated time of death coincided with the high tide. Given that, and the fact that the victim’s sailing jacket was missing, along with the yacht, it seemed highly probable that she had been on board. Had she been intending to sail it? Had she stowed some of her clothes on the boat ready for travelling — the clothes that were missing from the house?
He said, ‘What about cause of death?’
‘I’ll reserve judgement on that until I’ve conducted the autopsy. Now, your unknown man,’ Gaye said briskly, moving off.
