left Chandler looking concerned and headed along the corridor, glancing into a couple of rooms on the way. He found Cantelli in the last room on the first floor talking to a bald, fresh-faced man in his late forties, who was sitting in front of a computer at a desk that was laden with more paperwork than Horton’s. Immediately Horton could see Cantelli was on to something and his heart quickened.
Swiftly, Cantelli introduced Terry Bramley, the office manager. ‘Mr Bramley says that Arthur Lisle was here two weeks ago.’
‘He asked to see an archive file,’ Bramley said. ‘From October 1980. They’re archived off site and he asked me to request it.’
Horton knew immediately this was significant, although he couldn’t see how. He said, ‘You obliged even though Lisle was no longer an employee.’
‘I didn’t see any harm in it, especially as he’d worked on the case,’ Bramley said defensively.
‘What case?’
Bramley flinched at the sharpness of Horton’s question. He flushed, saying, ‘I, er, don’t know. He wasn’t specific, just said he wanted to check something on an old case he’d worked on.’
Was Bramley lying? Horton didn’t think so, but he could see Bramley was mentally calculating whether his desire to oblige Lisle was going to get him into trouble. ‘It was manic in here. I didn’t have time to question him about it. Arthur is completely trustworthy and discreet. I gave him the number of the storage company and he rang through and requested the file himself.’
‘And when was it delivered?’
‘That day. I don’t know what time but Arthur said he’d come back after lunch and I told him he could use my office. I had a half day.’
That was unfortunate from their point of view. ‘Was the file still here the next day?’
‘No. Arthur left a note on my desk thanking me and said he’d got the storage company to collect it.’
Cantelli said, ‘Why didn’t Mr Chandler mention this?’
‘Because he wasn’t here. He was out fishing, with a client.’
Convenient, thought Horton. So Lisle had slipped in, accessed the file and slipped out again without anyone knowing what he’d been searching for. Of course it could have nothing to do with his disappearance or Hazleton’s death, but what was it that Lisle was so keen to look up? They needed to know.
‘Could you phone the storage company and tell them we have permission to access the file.’
‘Now?’
Horton nodded.
As Bramley picked up the phone, he said, ‘Does Mr Chandler need to know about this?’
‘I suggest you tell him.’ Horton didn’t need to add, ‘before we do’. He got the address and telephone number of Susan Elizabeth Hague before they left and on the way to the storage company that was just outside Newport, Cantelli rang her, while Horton drove. Coming off the line a few minutes later, Cantelli said, ‘She remembers the case very well, and Colin Yately. It was a straightforward divorce, no complications.’
‘Lucky them,’ muttered Horton, thinking of his own marital split and divorce proceedings that seemed to be stretching on for ever. Then he recalled the filthy, sodden, half-chewed body in the woman’s dress and suppressed a shudder; poor Colin Yately hadn’t been so lucky after all.
‘She said that she usually handles divorce at the top end of the market, and the staff I spoke to confirmed that Wallingford and Chandler are expensive and exclusive but get excellent results for their clients. She liked Colin and she knew him very well because he was the firm’s postman. So she agreed to take it on.’
That explained that and confirmed Horton’s views about the legal practice. ‘Did you get to talk to Chandler junior?’
Cantelli shook his head. ‘No, he was still with his client but he handles wealth management.’ Cantelli quickly consulted his notebook and read, ‘Which entails estate and tax planning, business succession, charitable giving, trusts and asset protection. Would be nice to have some wealth to manage,’ he added snapping his notebook shut. ‘The talk is that Wallingford and Chandler are doing very well, thank you. Chandler runs a Range Rover and lives in a large manor house near Kingston, and Chandler junior is single but has a girlfriend who works in London. Junior lives in an apartment at Cowes Marina. The staff I spoke to all liked Arthur Lisle; there wasn’t a bad word said against him; quiet, kind, calm and brilliant at his job. None of them remembered Victor Hazleton.’
Which wasn’t surprising given that he had retired so long ago. Horton turned into a track. The sign said ‘Lane’s Farm and Storage Company’.
‘Let’s hope we can find out what Arthur Lisle was so interested in two weeks ago.’ But even if they did, Horton wondered if it had any connection with his disappearance and the murder of two men.
FIFTEEN
They were shown into a tiny office at the back of a large building by a dour-faced farmer, who told them he’d diversified into archive retrieval and storage and converted two of his large modern barns because the farming industry was buggered. He now employed four drivers and two office staff and made more in one month from storage and shredding than he did in six from farming. Horton wasn’t sure whether he believed him but that didn’t matter. What did was the contents of the large storage box dated October 1980 that had been placed in front of them.
When they were alone, Cantelli lifted the lid and pulled out a contents list which was also inscribed on the front of the box.
Horton peered at it and ran through the names. He didn’t recognize any of them as being connected with the case. ‘Shouldn’t take you long to look through that lot.’
‘What’s this “you”?’
‘Don’t want me crowding your style. While you’re checking through the contents I’m going to take a look around the area at Hazleton’s house.’
‘Dennings won’t thank you for trampling on his ground.’
‘I
‘It would help if I knew what I was looking for.’
‘I’m sure you’ll spot it,
‘Don’t forget to come back for me. I don’t fancy being roped in to milk the cows.’
‘There aren’t any on this farm.’
‘Then make sure
As Horton headed across the Island to the east coast and Hazleton’s house, he wondered why Lisle had been interested in the file from October 1980. He could have been looking up the address of a former client who’d become a friend and who he’d lost contact with. Or perhaps he was trying to trace someone related to a former client. It probably had nothing to do with the deaths, or Lisle’s disappearance, but there was a slim chance it could have and therefore it had to be followed up.
A patrol car and police van were parked on Hazleton’s driveway and there was no sign of Marsden’s car, so the coast was DI Dennings clear, unless the goon had come in the patrol car, which Horton doubted; it would be beneath him. He showed his ID to the officer on the door, who told him the Walkers and DC Marsden had been and gone. From what he had heard they hadn’t said anything was missing.
Horton was logged in and he found a handful of officers bagging up anything that could be relevant to the inquiry. From the landing window, as he climbed the stairs to the observatory, he could see others combing the grounds in search of a possible murder weapon or any evidence that the murder had taken place there. He speculated on what Dr Clayton’s post-mortem might discover before pushing open the door of the observatory. It was stifling hot and he was alone. The light-blue sea was rippling under a clear sky that seemed to stretch for ever. All he could see on the horizon was a lone yacht with white sails steadily making its way around the island.
