'She might never have reached home?' PC Seaton ventured.
'I agree, which is why I want the occupants of the houses and maisonettes immediately surrounding the Sir Wilberforce Cutler questioned as well.' Horton addressed Sergeant Trueman. 'We might be able to pinpoint the time she left school and the direction in which she was heading.'
Horton could see Trueman looking at him rather sceptically. He agreed it was a long shot. Knowing the area as well as he did, Horton knew that most of the inhabitants would rather have their teeth pulled that talk to the cops. 'You might also want to ask them if they heard or saw anything suspicious that night at the school. The break-in on the building site could still be linked with Langley's murder.'
Trueman made a note.
Horton continued. 'I want to know if Langley had any regular visitors, or visitors on the night she was killed. I also want a team into the Town Camber to talk to the boatmen, fishermen and those working in the fish market. Find out if anyone saw Langley on the day or night she was killed. Sergeant Trueman will circulate her photograph to those he allocates to that team. We now know that no boat moored in the Town Camber was in Langley's name. Sergeant Cantelli checked and DC Walters hasn't found anything in Langley's correspondence so far to indicate she owned a boat. We also know that she didn't bring a boat into the Town Camber on Thursday or Friday. So, Seaton, I want you checking out boat owners from all the other marinas in the area. Liaise with DI Bliss's team to get the names of boat owners from the marinas on Hayling Island. I want to know every one of them, including those kept on swinging moorings from Lee-on-the-Solent to Chichester, and then I want them cross checked with the school list of both teachers and visitors and the building contractors. If anyone one of them owns a boat I want to know about it, right?'
'Yes, sir.' Seaton, a uniformed officer, nodded eagerly. Like Somerfield, Horton knew he was keen to get into CID, and thought it would be a good opportunity to see what he was made of.
Uckfield drew Horton aside as a rash of activity erupted. 'I'm giving a statement to the media at half ten. Apart from telling them we've found Langley's car, is there anything else to add?'
'We're continuing with our inquiries?' Horton posed.
A flash of irritation crossed Uckfield's face. 'Shall we see if we can do a little better than that, Inspector? And don't bleat about not having enough manpower, because I've pulled out all the stops on this one. You won't have this strength for long so you'd better see that you make the most of it. And no cock-ups,' he shouted over his shoulder as a parting shot.
And bollocks to you too, thought Horton, indicating for Somerfield to follow him outside. In the relative quiet of the corridor, he said, 'Did you check out that car registration I gave you?'
'It belongs to an Edward Shawford. He's the Sales Director at Kempton Marine.'
How bloody convenient. That was where Catherine worked! Had Catherine's affair with her colleague begun when he and Catherine had still been together? Had Horton's suspension given Catherine the perfect excuse to throw him out and assuage her own guilt over her adulterous behaviour? He had a feeling it did. That didn't make things better, only worse.
'Where does he live?'
'Wickham.'
It was growing village just north of Fareham and about ten miles from Portsmouth.
Somerfield continued. 'He's divorced, no children. Aged forty-four. He has two convictions for speeding, apart from that he's clean.'
Shame.
Somerfield added, 'Did you know that Mickey Johnson's been bailed?'
'Who paid it?' Horton asked sharply, wondering if that might give him a lead.
'His live-in partner, Janey Piper. '
It didn't. He wondered though where Janey, who had borne two of Mickey's four children and was on benefit, had got the money. 'OK, leave him for now. I want you to talk to Elaine Tolley at the betting shop in Commercial Road. See what you can get out of her about that note we found on Langley's body.' He hadn't forgotten that.
Uckfield seemed keen to dismiss the note as just one of those things, but Horton knew that in a murder investigation nothing was insignificant. Uckfield ought to know it too but his was always a bull-in-a-china-shop approach. Horton had a feeling that this information was somehow important. Uckfield would have scoffed at that. Only fictional detectives could afford feelings, Horton could hear the big man carping. Well, sod it! No one else was following up the note.
'Find out if she had an affair with Morville,' he continued. 'And keep looking for connections between our robbery victims.'
Horton returned to his office where he stared down at Edward Shawford's details. He couldn't bear to think of Emma being cuddled by that man. He tortured himself with visions of Edward Shawford tickling Emma and making her giggle. If a solicitor's office had been open he would have called that instant. Instead he had to wait until Monday.
He pulled back the blinds and opened the window, letting in an angry wet wind. He took a couple of deep breaths then spun round and played his voicemail. It was the lab, promising to get him the results of the test on the betting slip by midday. The report on Langley's car would also be in later.
He sat down, feeling edgy and pent up. Pictures of Emma's excited and delighted face as she'd greeted him kept flashing before his eyes. He could feel her arms around his neck. Concentrate on the case, damn you, he silently urged himself, picking up a file and flinging it open. But the words merged in a blur of black print as he thought of Emma at ballet classes; was she upset or had she already dismissed him from her child's mind? His door swung open and he was glad to see Cantelli, cold and all, ambling in, clutching a plastic cup of coffee.
'Bloody hell, it's like the North Pole in here. You'll catch your death sitting there in a howling gale. And judging by the state of you I'd say you've been up all night.'
'You don't look so hot yourself.'
'I'll survive.'
Horton sat back as Cantelli plonked himself into the seat opposite. Suddenly Horton was filled with the urge to confide.
'I saw Emma this morning,' he announced abruptly.
Cantelli sat up with a concerned frown on his lean, dark face. 'And?'
'And what?' Horton ran a hand over his head and stood up. 'I had to leave her. Barney, why is Catherine doing this to me?'
'Jealousy.' Cantelli answered so promptly that Horton started.
'Why?'
'Maybe Emma is fonder of her daddy than her mummy, and, well, let's face it, Catherine always did like to be the centre of attention. You should only have had eyes for her. Perhaps your daughter stole your heart from Catherine and she didn't like it.'
Horton considered his words. 'You think I neglected Catherine?'
'I didn't say that. A woman like Catherine needs to be worshipped. Maybe you didn't worship her enough, or stopped doing so when you started paying homage to your daughter.'
'I didn't know you were a psychiatrist,' Horton said sarcastically.
'There's a lot of things people don't know about me. I haven't had five kids without learning a thing or two.' Cantelli winked grotesquely.
Horton smiled despite his heavy heart. Did Emma love him more than her mother? He doubted it but Cantelli's words gave him some comfort.
'Maybe I should have come to you for marriage guidance,' Horton said.
'If I ever get kicked out of the force perhaps I'll give it a whirl. What you need is something to take your mind off it. How about us trying to solve this case?'
Somerfield was following up Elaine Tolley, and although Horton thought it unlikely that Eric Morville was their killer, they hadn't yet checked out his alibi. And no one had investigated the break-in at the ex-forces club. Time to kill two birds with one stone.