A Killing Coast

‘Did he know anyone with a boat, or ever go out sailing or fishing?’

‘He never mentioned it. You think he might have fallen overboard?’

‘It’s a possibility.’ Though Horton thought a remote one recalling how Yately had been dressed, unless he had been at a party on a boat, as Cantelli had posed. He said, ‘We’ll need to confirm identity.’

Her head came up, panic and alarm in her eyes. ‘You mean you want me to-’

‘No,’ Horton quickly reassured her. ‘We should be able to verify it is your father from fingerprints and DNA. Do you have a key to his flat? We need to check it out,’ he added, hoping that neither she nor Damien King would ask why they didn’t use the keys on the fob. Neither did. As she again reached down into her handbag, Horton wondered if they’d be able to check Colin Yately’s flat tonight.

‘Does your father own or rent the flat?’ he asked.

‘He rents it.’

So unless they could get hold of the landlord it would mean the local police making a forcible entry. Could it wait until tomorrow morning, by which time the keys could be sent over? A twelve hour delay probably wouldn’t make any difference, he told himself, and yet there was a chance that Yately could be lying ill or dead inside the flat, that he was not the body in the mortuary.

Cantelli took the two keys she handed to him. ‘One’s to the front door, the other’s to Dad’s flat,’ she said.

‘We’ll give you a receipt for it.’ Cantelli asked if she knew the name of the landlord. She did, but not his address. She thought it was somewhere in Shanklin.

Horton said, ‘What did your father do with his time?’ She looked a little bewildered so Horton elaborated. ‘He was retired so did he have any hobbies, interests?’ But he might just as well have asked her how far the planet Mars was judging by her expression. Hannah Yately had the self-obsession of youth and he guessed her doting father had been there on those dining-out occasions solely to listen to her and not the other way round. Still, he and Cantelli would do the same with their children when they reached Hannah’s age, and before that. Horton would give anything to spend a day listening to his daughter’s bright chatter.

‘He liked walking,’ Hannah Yately said hesitatingly, as if unsure whether that constituted a hobby.

‘Was there any particular place he liked walking, or did he have a favourite walk?’

‘I don’t know. He just walked.’ She eyed him with an air of desperation.

‘With anyone or alone?’

‘Alone. I think. I don’t know. He didn’t have any girlfriends if that’s what you mean, although he did seem happy. In fact, happier than I’d seen him in some time,’ she added, somewhat surprised that she had managed to recall this. ‘I asked him if he’d found himself a new woman; he laughed and said, better than that.’

‘What did he mean?’ asked Horton, interested in this new nugget of information and thinking of that dress.

‘I’ve no idea,’ she answered forlornly.

Cantelli said, ‘What about male friends? Was there anyone he was particularly close to or that he talked about?’

She shook her head. ‘Dad was very private. The so-called friends he did have were Mum’s and they disappeared quickly after they split up. I don’t know about his neighbours.’

Horton didn’t need a psychologist to tell him that Hannah Yately took her father’s side in the divorce. He again thought of his own daughter and hoped that he’d still be close to her when she was Hannah’s age, despite Catherine’s determination to keep him at a distance.

There didn’t seem anything more Hannah Yately could tell them for the present. Cantelli got her father’s date of birth and address, and the address of her mother in Newport on the Island. He asked if she wanted them to call her mother.

She looked tempted, then pulled herself up. ‘No. I’ll speak to her.’

Horton said they’d let her know as soon as they had further news on her father, and confirmation it was him, and watched her leave.

On the way back to CID, Cantelli said, ‘I’ll contact the ferry companies.’

Horton fetched a black coffee from the machine in the corridor outside CID, and took it to his office where he opened the sandwiches he’d bought earlier. As he ate Hannah Yately’s comment jarred at him. I asked him if he’d found himself a new woman; he laughed and said, better than that. Had Yately found himself a new man and had something gone wrong between them, resulting in his body ending up in the sea? According to his daughter it was five days since he’d disappeared, but that didn’t mean his death was suspicious. And there was no evidence to suggest it, so no need to alert Uckfield and the Major Crime Team. And no need, he thought, to seal off the flat, but he wouldn’t mind taking a look at it, just to be sure they were dealing with Colin Yately’s death. He could bring something of Yately’s back for a match on DNA and fingerprints. And he could see if Colin Yately kept a stash of women’s clothing there. The door burst open and Bliss stormed in with a face like it had supped on sour milk. Why didn’t the bloody woman ever enter anywhere like normal people, Horton thought with a stifled groan.

‘I was expecting a briefing, Inspector,’ she barked.

‘I’ve been interviewing the daughter of the man discovered in the sea. I believe it to be Colin-’

‘I don’t mean that,’ she flapped her thin arm at him as though she was swatting away a particularly irritating wasp. ‘I mean Victor Hazleton. I had to go into a meeting earlier this afternoon with Detective Chief Superintendent Sawyer and others involved in Project Neptune without the full facts of the matter. How do you think that made me feel?’

‘Foolish and inadequate?’ he replied brightly. If the cap fits. .

‘It’s you who are inadequate, Inspector,’ she raged, glaring at him. ‘I take the matter of receiving information that could thwart a potential terrorist threat very seriously, and so should you. If you don’t you shouldn’t be in the job.’

Stiffly, he replied, ‘Mr Hazleton’s report of a light at sea poses no threat to shipping or the USS Boise’s visit. If it had I would have informed you immediately. It’s unlikely there was any light. The elderly man has a reputation for exaggeration and fabrication.’

‘Well I hope you’re right.’ She eyed him malevolently before continuing, ‘We have a duty to protect visitors to the city and the community. DC Walters has sent me his report on the security arrangements on Russell Glenn’s yacht; I expect to have yours on Victor Hazleton on my desk within the next two hours along with your report on your team’s performance targets for the next month for my meeting with Superintendent Reine early tomorrow morning. And I don’t want a repeat of the fairy tale you spun last month. Let me you remind you that our new Chief Constable’s mission is “lean and agile, delivering best value for the taxpayer”.’

‘Not sure we can do both,’ Horton muttered, but unfortunately Bliss had excellent hearing.

‘Then you’d better start applying for another job. And I want a full report on the arrangements you’ve made for the additional security for Mr Glenn’s superyacht for Friday night.’

He hadn’t even started on that. He let out a sigh as she swept out. If his CID department, already grossly undermanned, was any leaner there’d be no one in it. He made a start on the reports but with half his mind on Colin Yately. Bliss hadn’t even been interested in their body. Why? He didn’t really need to ask himself that question; with recruitment frozen and promotion severely restricted because of government cut backs there was even less chance of her shinning up the slippery pole, but she was going to make damn sure that however slim her chances she’d get there somehow, and that meant sucking up to the big brass. Project Neptune was her chance to shine. And a cock-up on Glenn’s super-shiny new yacht would severely blot her copy book.

Cantelli knocked and entered. ‘The Wightlink office wouldn’t give me the information over the phone. I told them they could ring back and check I was who I claimed to be but they wanted proof before they divulged the information.’

‘Glad to see someone’s on the ball.’

‘I’ve made an appointment with them early tomorrow morning and with Hovertravel in case Yately decided to come by hovercraft. I’ve traced the landlord to an address in Shanklin but haven’t contacted them. Do you want me to ask the local police to enter the flat?’

‘No, I’m going over as soon as I’m finished here.’

Cantelli rolled his eyes at him.

Quickly Horton added, ‘I know I don’t have to but I’m curious.’