‘Rawly Willard.’
‘Yes, that’s him, quiet sort of chap, fair, slight, intelligent, bit of a loner. Only he claimed he wasn’t her boyfriend although he’d like to have been. He denied that he was meeting her that day, but she’d told her work colleagues he was. We couldn’t break him and there was no forensic on him, in his house, or his car. But Dean will tell you all this. He was in charge of the case.’
‘Did you check out Kenneth Loman?’ Horton saw by Danby’s surprised look that they hadn’t.
‘We had no reason to.’
‘Or his boat?’
‘Didn’t know he had one.’
‘A small one, he kept it on the moorings near the sailing club at Tipner.’
‘Ah.’ After a moment Danby added, ‘We had no reason to suspect that she’d gone sailing with anyone, let alone her father. We didn’t even know he went sailing.’
‘Fishing.’
‘So he could have been lying about her leaving the house alone. Took her out, killed and dumped her body.’
‘It’s one theory.’ Danby hadn’t mentioned the significance of the bikinis and no towel. Horton said, ‘Anything unusual or different about the case stick out in your mind?’
‘No. Except that there seemed no motive for her disappearance and we couldn’t match it with the disappearance of any women about her age in the area or in the country. Her parents claimed they hadn’t argued with her, and that she was a model daughter and her boss and work colleagues agreed that Ellie Loman was sweetness and light, not an evil thought or bone in her body. She was well liked by everyone.’
‘Not everyone, it seems.’
‘No.’
‘Did you check her medical records?’
‘Probably. I don’t remember anything about her being on drugs or pregnant.’
He pulled up by the security office and silenced the engine. The music was still playing but it wasn’t so ear-splitting. Horton said, ‘We’ve got another death in the same location. A woman, about mid-forties. She was last seen alive at the crematorium at the time of Daryl Woodley’s funeral. Do you remember him?’
‘Vaguely. I read about his funeral in the local newspaper. Nice picture of you and Uckfield. Bet he loved that.’
‘Not a lot. Woodley had a photograph of the victim in his cell. This is her. Do you recognize her?’ Horton showed him the photograph of Salacia with fair hair.
Danby shook his head.
‘This is what she looked like when last seen.’ Horton handed across the picture taken at the funeral.
‘No. Who is she?’
‘That’s what we’re trying to establish. The funeral after Woodley’s was of Amelia Willard, last surviving member of the Willard family. It was organized by her niece, Patricia Harlow, and her husband, Gregory.’
Danby’s eyebrows went up. ‘I see. But Woodley didn’t come into the frame for Ellie Loman’s disappearance, probably inside at the time.’
‘He was.’
‘So how does he figure in it now?’
‘No idea, but I’m working on it. Do you remember interviewing Gregory and Patricia Harlow about their cousin’s disappearance?’
‘No. Should we have done?’ Danby said surprised.
‘Maybe. Gregory Harlow, who works for Coastline Catering, in their tent here, seems to have gone walkabout.’
‘I didn’t think you’d come all this way just to talk to me. So he could be involved in both deaths.’
‘It’s beginning to look that way. What do you remember about Harry Foxbury?’
‘The boatyard owner. Fox by name and fox by nature. We suspected him of using the yard for smuggling at one time but couldn’t catch him or prove it.’
That was interesting. ‘When would this have been?’
Danby thought for a moment. ‘It wasn’t long before Ellie disappeared, 1999, no 2000. Let me know how it pans out and if you need any more help. I’m here all weekend.’
‘In a tent?’
‘Ha bloody ha. No, I’m staying at a place along the coast not far from Osborne Bay, it belongs to Richard Eames, or rather Lord Eames.’
‘Lord! As in the House of Lords?’ Horton cried, surprised. Could he possibly have any connection with Agent Eames from Europol? No, that was too fantastic, she must come from another branch of the Eames family, but she had been to a Swiss finishing school and she had mentioned that the family owned a place along the coast.
‘That’s the one. Why, do you know him?’ Danby answered amused and surprised.
‘Never heard of him.’
Danby eyed him disbelievingly and then smiled, amused. ‘But you’ve heard he’s got a daughter in the police. She works for Europol and she’s a looker.’
That clinched it. No wonder she talked posh. She’d not said that she knew Danby when his name had come up in connection with the Ellie Loman case. Did Uckfield know of her background? Was that why he hadn’t made a pass at her?
Curious, Horton said, ‘What do you do for his lordship?’
‘Carry out security checks; act as personal bodyguard and supply security officers as and when he needs them.’
‘For what?’
‘Receptions, business trips abroad, his horses. He’s got land dotted all over the world, and a nice little property in London.’
And Horton knew that Danby’s ‘little’ meant the opposite, and was probably worth millions.
‘I’m impressed by the exalted circles you move in.’ Horton opened the car door.
‘Drop by for a drink if you get the chance, though Richard won’t be there. Or his daughter, more’s the pity.
Did Danby know she was here, working with him? It appeared not but then Danby was adept at hiding his real thoughts. He said, ‘Don’t think I’ll have time, but thanks anyway.’
He watched Danby’s car glide away towards the back of one of the giant stages. Eames had said nothing about her family house being loaned to pop stars or Mike Danby for the duration of the festival. But then why should she? It had nothing to do with the investigation, but he recalled that slightly troubled look on her face when they’d been sailing into Fishbourne on the car ferry. Perhaps she’d had a falling-out with daddy, which could have been over her decision to become a cop. Lord Eames had probably had other ideas for his daughter. He recalled her quip about joining the police in order to find a husband, and her smile as she’d said it, knowing that she had used humour to disguise her true emotions and to deflect any further questions. It had worked. And it was none of his business. From now on she was definitely off-limits, which was a shame, but he couldn’t see what he could possibly have in common with a girl like Eames, except the job. And he scrapped all ideas that Sawyer would use her to find out if and when someone from Zeus might make contact. He considered that too wide off the mark. And that brought him back to Edward Ballard. He’d heard nothing about Ballard’s movements from Elkins yet.
He pushed thoughts of Eames and Ballard aside and asked security if anyone had seen Harlow’s van leave. No one remembered it but the log showed it had been checked out at 22:35 the previous evening and it hadn’t been checked in again. He found a uniformed police officer and showed his ID. He asked to speak to the officer in charge of the drugs operation. He couldn’t request to speak to DS Olewbo from the Portsmouth drugs squad because he knew that Hans was undercover. He told the uniformed inspector that they might like to check out Skelton’s staff in the Coastline Cool tent and in particular Haseen Nader. No, he had no intelligence; just something Nader had said when he was interviewing him in connection with another matter.
He called in, couldn’t get hold of Trueman and got Marsden instead who said the diving operation at the quayside had finished with no sign of Salacia’s handbag or a torch. The wreck that Ellie Loman’s remains had been found on was being raised by Manley and his team, and the press had picked up on the story. He’d left PC Seaton in charge. Horton told Marsden to check with the Wightlink and Red Funnel ferries to see if Harlow had left the Island. Then he made for the prison.