The slim man in his thirties reached for a notepad and pen and Horton silently thanked the heavens that he’d got someone prepared and bright. He nodded to say he was ready. Horton said, ‘Tell me about Ellie.’
Garvard opened his eyes. ‘Sharon killed her.’ His strained voice was barely above a whisper. ‘She was jealous. I loved her.’
Horton could see the effort to speak was costing him dear. He wasn’t without pity or sympathy, but he couldn’t condone what this man had done. He said, ‘I’ll explain and you can correct me when I go wrong and agree where I indicate.’ It wouldn’t hold up in a court of law but this man was never going to go before one again, certainly not in this world.
Garvard nodded fractionally to show he understood.
‘You met Amelia and Edgar Willard when they were on holiday in Spain staying at the villa rented by their niece, Sharon Piper. You were there working a time-share or property scam.’
‘The latter. 1997.’
‘Sharon saw through you immediately as you tried to get money from her, her husband having left her with a house, a boat and a life-insurance policy. You were two of a kind, you both had a desire for money and were clever, crooked and cunning enough to know how to get it from people and then invest it to make more for you rather than the people you conned into giving it to you in the first place.’
‘Yes.’ The word came out as a breath.
‘You even managed to get Edgar Willard to invest in one of your bogus schemes, which effectively took all his savings and eventually forced his widow to sell up and move to a smaller house.’
Garvard gave a slight shake of his head. Horton held the man’s weary pain-filled eyes. And then he realized what Garvard was silently telling him.
‘Or rather Sharon managed to get Edgar to invest in one of your schemes, or was it one of hers?’
Garvard closed his eyes as though to indicate that it was. But was that the truth? Kirby had said that Garvard was manipulative. Perhaps Garvard wanted them to believe Sharon had been the mastermind behind the fraud. The lies went deep in this investigation, just as Ellie and Sharon had ended up, deep under that quay.
He continued, ‘You met Ellie Loman at the Willards’ house when they were celebrating their pearl wedding anniversary. Rawly Willard, Ellie’s work colleague and the man who worshipped the ground she walked on, had invited her. Ellie and you began an affair. She arranged to meet you on Sunday the first of July and you went out on your boat together for the day. Was Sharon with a prospective client tricking him into parting with his money? She was very good at that. A stunningly attractive woman, sexy, convincing.’
Garvard opened his eyes.
Horton knew he’d guessed correctly. So who had Sharon been with that day? Had she managed to con him? And had this man recognized her at the crematorium, or perhaps even before then, when she had arrived in the UK, and killed her for revenge or in a rage when she refused to give back his money? Swiftly he brought his mind back to the man on the hospital bed and the events of that long-ago summer. ‘Sharon knew about your affair. And she knew where you would drop Ellie off after your day out in the Solent? How?’
Garvard shook his head slightly.
‘You don’t know? Perhaps she’d overheard you making arrangements,’ but Horton had another thought. Perhaps someone had told Sharon and that someone was Harry Foxbury because he had seen them leave from the sailing-club jetty or from the quayside in his boatyard. On a Sunday nobody would have been working in the yard but Foxbury could have been there. And perhaps Foxbury told Sharon because he fancied her or had had a fling with her. Horton didn’t think Foxbury would ever have been one of Sharon’s victims because he was too fly for that. But even if he had told Sharon, Foxbury it seemed was in the clear for her murder and hadn’t met her on Tuesday afternoon.
He continued. ‘Sharon went to the boatyard and waited for you to return, staying out of sight until Ellie got off the boat and waved you goodbye. As she made to leave, Sharon stepped out from where she’d been hiding, hit Ellie violently on the back of the head and then pushed her body into the sea. Maybe you turned and saw it, or perhaps when Ellie didn’t show for the next meeting with you, you became suspicious. When Ellie was reported missing you guessed that Sharon had to be behind it.’
Horton glanced at the prison officer, who nodded, he didn’t have much to write of Garvard’s end of the conversation but he was hopefully noting Garvard’s gestures and his summary of the situation.
He said, ‘When she betrayed you to the police she knew she was safe from being implicated because if you uttered one word about her killing Ellie, she would tell the police where to find Ellie’s body and swear blind you’d killed her. There would be evidence on your boat of Ellie’s presence and probably witnesses who had seen you on the boat together or when you had put in somewhere. You’d be done for murder
‘Die doing it. . got my revenge,’ Garvard croaked. Despite the weakness of his voice Horton could hear the bitterness in it.
Garvard closed his eyes. Horton could see that soon he would drift into unconsciousness, possibly for the final time. But there was still much he needed to know. With new urgency he said, ‘How did you get Sharon to come back for the funeral? She was living in Spain. Did you know where?’
Garvard gave a slight shake of his head. Horton thought there was a small smile on his lips.
‘How did she hear that her aunt had died?’
Could Foxbury have kept in touch with her and told her? Or had Gregory Harlow known where Sharon was and told her, but why should he if Sharon wanted money from him? No, Gregory and Patricia Harlow had only placed an announcement in the local newspaper to let Amelia’s friends know about the funeral arrangements. And then it came to him. There was someone who could have contacted Sharon.
‘Fiona Wright.’
Garvard’s eyes opened and although the man didn’t speak, Horton saw that he was right. Keenly he pressed on, as his mind scrambled to put together the pieces. ‘While undergoing your radiotherapy treatment you saw Amelia Willard at the hospital, she was also there for her radiotherapy treatment.’ Horton didn’t know this for a fact yet, but he was ready to stake his career on it, and the fact that somehow Garvard had got Fiona Wright involved.
‘You struck up a relationship with Fiona Wright. You pumped her for information on Amelia.’
He reckoned that Garvard had wanted to know about Amelia’s cancer and the prognosis. Perhaps he’d even seen Patricia Harlow with her aunt. ‘You extracted a promise from Fiona Wright that when Amelia died she would get a message to Sharon and the only way she could do that — if it’s true you didn’t know where Sharon was living — was by placing announcements about the death in the national newspapers, or the Spanish ones, or both, hoping that Sharon would see it and act on it.’
‘
And that would be simple to check. Horton let out a breath, it was beginning to come together, but he still had more questions. He sat forward on the edge of the chair. ‘You had also arranged for Woodley to kill Sharon but it went wrong. Did Woodley refuse once he was on the outside? Did he get a message back to you inside that he’d changed his mind, and that he’d only agreed to it to get Stapleton off his back, the staged attack on Stapleton suited all three of you. So you had to arrange for someone to take him out? And someone to kill Sharon in the same place she killed and left Ellie Loman, because you wanted Ellie’s bones to be found. Who did you pay to kill Sharon and leave Daryl Woodley for dead after they’d bungled the first attack on him? Reggie Thomas? Or was it one of Marty Stapleton’s gang on the outside?’
Horton saw a smile touch the dying man’s face. He’d got it wrong. Damn. He could see Garvard slipping away. Urgently he pressed on, ‘Who killed Sharon, Leo?’
Garvard was deteriorating fast, the door opened and an angry nurse hurried in.
‘No more. You must leave now.’
Horton was desperate. He glanced at the prison officer, who shrugged. The nurse glared at him. Ignoring her, Horton addressed the dying man. ‘Leo, who killed Sharon?’
‘Inspector, please,’ the nurse demanded.
Horton rose. There was nothing more he could do. He turned to leave when a sound came from the bed. He spun round.
