‘We only have Patricia Harlow’s word that Sharon killed Ellie Loman and that she wasn’t at the boatyard when her husband went to meet her. She’s lied once, she could be lying again. Gregory Harlow could have killed Sharon Piper and then wracked with guilt he killed himself.’
Uckfield looked up. ‘He could have killed her, yes, but he didn’t kill himself.’
Horton froze with another sandwich half poised. ‘You’ve got the PM report,’ he said eagerly.
‘Came in a few minutes before this conference. Dr Clayton’s confirmed it was homicide.’
So bang went Gregory Harlow as a suspect for killing Sharon Piper, but he could have seen who had killed her. ‘How did he die?’
Trueman answered. ‘Alcohol and barbiturate poisoning, not self-administered. There was bruising inside the mouth and around the jaw area. Someone held his mouth open and poured the whisky down it.’
‘A man, then?’
‘Dr Clayton thinks it’s probable but she can’t be absolutely certain.’
‘Wouldn’t he have struggled?’ asked Marsden.
‘He was drugged and unable to put up much resistance. Dr Clayton says the toxicology tests need to verify this but she found. .’ Trueman paused to read from his computer screen, then continued, ‘“laryngeal oedema in the upper respiratory tract, froth and pus in the lungs and congestion in the brain which confirm alcohol and barbiturate poisoning.” She says that Harlow was probably given Nembutal or Amytal. All barbiturates depress the central nervous system causing sleep and in large doses produce coma followed by kidney and respiratory failure, and death. The alcohol was used to speed up the process of death and possibly to make us think he committed suicide. He probably took the barbiturate unwittingly and then someone forced the alcohol down him.’
‘Time of death?’ asked Horton.
‘Between eleven p.m. Thursday night and two a.m. Friday morning. The security officers who DCI Birch’s team have interviewed say that Harlow left the festival in his van alone. SOCO have found no additional tyre tracks near or leading to the spot where Gregory’s van was parked so either he picked up his killer on the way or he met him there, and the killer entered the woods on foot. DCI Birch has officers out asking for sightings of any vehicles parked near the copse.’
Uckfield wiped his mouth with a large white handkerchief. ‘Right, let’s bring Leo Garvard in.’
‘That might be difficult.’ Horton exchanged a glance with Trueman.
‘I don’t care how bloody difficult it is,’ Uckfield exploded. ‘He’s our killer. He killed Sharon Piper for revenge for stitching him up and for killing his girlfriend, Ellie Loman, and then he killed Harlow.’
‘Why?’
‘Because Harlow saw him kill Sharon of course. We bring him in.’
‘You tell him, Dave,’ Horton said.
‘Leo Garvard was convicted for fraud in 2002 on Sharon’s evidence and he’s still serving his sentence.’
‘And I’ll give you three guesses where,’ Horton added.
‘Not Parkhurst!’
‘Yes, and Garvard is probably responsible for giving Woodley that photograph of Sharon Piper, aka Carol Palmer aka Salacia, but he couldn’t have killed her and he couldn’t have killed Gregory Harlow, but he could have organized both murders.’
‘Then we’re back to Reggie Thomas,’ Bliss said triumphantly. ‘Garvard could have ordered Thomas to get rid of Woodley because Woodley was going to confess.’
‘Unlikely,’ Horton answered. ‘Woodley wouldn’t have known the meaning of the word, but he could have screwed up somehow. Or perhaps on reflection Garvard considered Woodley wasn’t up to the job. But I can’t see Thomas doing it for nothing, or Woodley come to that if he’d gone through with it, which means Garvard must have some money from his scams stashed away.’
‘Which Sharon Piper could have been spending,’ Marsden piped up.
‘Possibly,’ said Horton.
Uckfield sat back and scratched his crotch, causing a scowl of disapproval on Bliss’s face. Eames appeared not to notice. ‘So Reggie Thomas attacks Woodley after he leaves the pub, Sholby’s and Hobbs’ alibis are false. Woodley doesn’t see his attacker so when Reggie offers to take him out of hospital, an unsuspecting Woodley goes with him. But Reggie, in a borrowed or nicked car, drops him at the marshes where he leaves him to die. At the crematorium Reggie manages to speak to Sharon, or passes her a message, asking her to meet him later that night at the boatyard. Maybe he claims he has a message from Garvard. She agrees and he stabs her, steals her car and dumps it somewhere.’
Horton said, ‘Perhaps he passed the vehicle on to one of his mates, Sholby or Hobbs, or directly to the garage proprietor, Mellings, who recycles it.’
Bliss chipped in. ‘That seems highly possible given the intelligence we’re gathering.’
Horton frowned in thought. ‘That still doesn’t explain why Woodley’s funeral was arranged for the same day and just before Amelia Willard’s.’
‘Or why Sharon Piper showed up for it,’ added Eames.
But Horton could explain that. ‘It’s unlikely that she was living in this area, although we don’t know that for certain, but if she wasn’t then someone from here knew her whereabouts and told her that Amelia had died and when the funeral was being held.’
‘Gregory Harlow?’ posed Bliss.
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Garvard?’ suggested Uckfield.
‘Or someone liaising with him,’ Horton replied. ‘The prison network is very wide.’
‘We’re not back to Marty bloody Stapleton, are we?’ exclaimed Uckfield.
Horton shrugged. ‘It could be one of his contacts.’
Uckfield sniffed in disgust. ‘OK, with Garvard inside and not our killer, although there’s the possibility he engineered Sharon’s death, and if we discount Gregory Harlow for now on account of him being killed himself, an unknown hit man, and Reggie Thomas, who could still be in the frame, who else does that leave?’
‘Harry Foxbury,’ answered Horton. ‘There are still the hours of Salacia’s life unaccounted for between being seen at the crematorium and arriving at the quayside and I don’t think Reggie Thomas would have treated her to lobster and white wine.’
‘And nobody in their right mind would have sex with him,’ Uckfield sneered.
Horton continued. ‘So whoever she met that afternoon could be the person who tipped her off about her aunt’s funeral and who dropped her off at the quay and hasn’t come forward, because either he’s scared of being accused of killing her, or he did kill her. Foxbury could have known Salacia when she was Sharon Piper or Carol Palmer. It’s likely he also knew Ellie Loman. Or there might be another motive for Sharon’s death that we’re currently unaware of.’
‘I bloody hope not,’ Uckfield growled.
Trueman said, ‘We’ve cleared Kevin Manley, his crew, the boatman Ethan Crombie and the crane operative Bill Shoreham, but it could be a member of the sailing club. Richard Bolton, the sailing-club secretary, was at work at his printing company all afternoon. But now that we’ve got Salacia’s real name, and her most recent one, we can see if there is a connection between her and any of the sailing-club members.’
‘Including the Chief Constable and councillor Levy,’ Uckfield said pointedly.
Horton thought he saw an expression of horror flit across Bliss’s thin face.
Uckfield rose. ‘Right. We dig deeper on Foxbury. Eames, you and Marsden find out where Foxbury was Thursday night between eleven p.m. and two a.m. and on Tuesday afternoon and evening. And we want the names of alibis this time and we will check them. Trueman, start checking the sailing club members.’ Turning to Horton, Uckfield added, ‘And as you’ve already got contacts in the prison, you can have the pleasure of another visit to Her Majesty’s Parkhurst and see if this Garvard can tell us how Woodley came to have his girlfriend’s photograph in his cell.’
Horton would have preferred having a go at Harry Foxbury, but he was curious to meet Garvard and to find out more about Sharon Piper. He called Elkins and asked him to pick him up from the quay at the Continental Ferry Port. As he headed there he chewed over the new facts that had come to light. They still hadn’t traced Sharon Piper’s entry into the country. He was convinced she’d come from abroad and it sounded highly probable that she’d come from the Continent. As he swung into the ferry port it suddenly struck him. God, what an idiot, and not just him, it had been staring them all in the face and no one had thought of it. Salacia hadn’t flown in and neither had she come by private boat. She’d caught the ferry.