The Suffocating Sea

'So when are you going to tell me about almost being fried alive?' Cantelli declared.

Horton cursed silently. The station grapevine was working well. He could see that Cantelli was concerned and the last thing he wanted was him worrying. Light-heartedly he said, 'I was saving the best bit until last.'

'You should have called me.' Cantelli looked peeved.

'Barney, you've got enough to cope with at the moment-'

'That's no reason to neglect my friends.'

Horton was warmed by Cantelli's words. It was typical of him to consider others even in the depths of his own sorrow. And Horton knew how deep that was. He could see by the haunted look in his dark eyes, sunk like caverns in his lean face, that Cantelli had had little sleep and was grieving inside. He should be with his family; this wasn't the place for him but Horton could hardly order him home.

Cantelli said, 'I hear the boat's a write-off. So, where are you staying?'

Horton had to tell him. He trusted Cantelli more than anyone else. He glanced at his door; it was open but there was no one immediately outside. Nevertheless, he lowered his voice as he said, 'Elkins got me a billet on this boat in Gosport Marina. It's like living in Buckingham Palace after slumming it on poor little Nutmeg. No one knows except Elkins, PC Ripley, Uckfield and you. I'd rather it stay that way until I know who's after me.'

'But why, Andy? Why you? And don't give me all that stuff about being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I know it's tosh.'

Horton sat back and frowned. He should have guessed that Cantelli would see through him, and that he would get to the nub of the matter before either Uckfield or Dennings. Yet, it was difficult for Horton to speak of his mother. He felt this was a defining moment. Should he tell Barney, or whitewash it? But Cantelli deserved more than waffle. This was the man who had stood by him no matter what had been said about his morals, behaviour and professional conduct. Cantelli deserved the truth. After a moment he said, 'Close the door, Barney.'

Cantelli did as he was told. When he was seated, Horton told him about the newspapers in Gilmore's study, the conversation that Gutner had overheard and his fears about his mother's involvement. He didn't find it easy. He tried to speak dispassionately, as though he was giving a report, and yet he couldn't ignore the tension inside him. Maybe it showed in his voice? If it did then Cantelli gave no sign he saw it. Cantelli was the first and only person inside the force he had ever spoken to about Jennifer.

The sergeant listened in silence, looking at first puzzled and then deeply concerned, but not pitying. Horton was glad; he couldn't have stomached that, but then he wouldn't have expected pity from Cantelli. Even though Cantelli had never known the kind of rejection that Horton had experienced, having been raised in a loving family, Horton knew from working with him over the years that he felt it and understood. He could see it in his expression, too. Cantelli was one of only a handful of people who already knew that he'd been raised in children's homes and with foster parents, though they rarely spoke of it. Why should they? Horton had consigned it to history until now..

Cantelli said, 'So we need to tackle Sebastian Gilmore and find out what the bastard knows. No more pussy-footing round gymnasiums and swimming pools.'

Horton was heartened by Cantelli's fervour and yet reigned in by it. Maybe that was what Cantelli had wanted to achieve. A kind of reverse psychology. Now he was beginning to think like a bloody shrink.

'Dennings is bringing him in this morning. If he'll come,' Horton added.

Knowing Sebastian, Horton reckoned it would only be in the company of his solicitor. Sebastian Gilmore was smart; they'd get nothing out of him. But before Horton could comment further his phone rang and he was surprised to hear Selina Gilmore's voice.

'My father's not come home. I'm worried.'

She should be telephoning Dennings, but she had asked for him, probably because he was the only detective she had met on the case.

'I didn't realize he hadn't come home until our housekeeper told me. She said that Dad had not been down for breakfast and he always is by six thirty sharp. I called his office and I've tried his mobile, but there's no answer.'

Horton didn't like the sound of this. Could Sebastian Gilmore have done a runner, believing the police to be on his tail? Had Dennings or someone else in the station warned him he was about to be brought in for questioning? But would a man like Gilmore run away? Horton doubted it. Would he leave his house, business and daughter? Perhaps he had wealth stashed away in some offshore account and Selina was in on this too? Should he tell Dennings? Like hell he would.

'We'll meet you at the office in ten minutes.' Replacing his phone he addressed Cantelli. 'That was Selina Gilmore. Her father's gone missing.'

On the way to Gilmore's offices Horton was tempted to tell Cantelli about Catherine taking Emma away but decided against it. He knew Cantelli would be upset and angry on his account and Horton didn't want to burden him with more of his problems. Instead, Horton wondered aloud if his interview with Janice Hassingham had spooked Gilmore.

Cantelli said, 'Maybe he's with a woman his daughter knows nothing about.'

It was possible, Horton thought, as Cantelli drew up outside the office. It was raining heavily, but the yard was humming with activity.

'Gilmore's car is here,' Horton said. It was parked next to Selina's Mercedes. 'Perhaps he's shown up.'

But Selina greeted them in her office, along the corridor from her father's, with a worried frown. 'Dad returned from his conference in London late yesterday afternoon. I left him here at seven o'clock,' she said, looking understandably concerned. 'He said he had some things to attend to. I went home, had a shower, changed and then went out with some friends for a meal. I didn't get back until midnight; I thought Dad had gone to bed. When I got up he wasn't in the house and his car had gone from the garage so I assumed he'd come to work. But he's not here. I've checked everywhere and asked around. No one's seen him.'

Horton saw the fear in her eyes and heard the concern in her voice. If her father had run out, and she was party to it, then she was a damn good actress.

'Was your father's car in the garage at home last night?'

'I don't know. I didn't look. I caught a taxi home. I'd been drinking.'

'Is there anywhere he could have gone?'

'I've tried all his friends and contacts. The manager at Cowes Marina said Dad's not there and his boat is still at Horsea Marina. Our housekeeper at our place in Portugal hasn't seen or heard from him. Do you think something could have happened to him? If it has then I blame you; you should have given him protection.'

Her voice was getting louder and angrier.

Horton said evenly, 'How did he seem yesterday?'

'His usual self.'

'He didn't seem worried or preoccupied about anything?'

'Only business matters, but that was normal.' Her phone rang. She snatched it up.

Horton crossed to the window and looked down into the yard. Across the car park he could see one of Gilmore's two warehouses. There was a forklift truck whizzing in and out with a flashing light and a bleeping sound. The rain swept in off the sea in a blanket of grey. He heard Selina say, 'Can't Bill deal with it?' Then Horton's attention was caught by a man rushing out of the warehouse. He was calling something out to a colleague who immediately dropped what he was holding and the two men ran back inside the warehouse. Horton spun round.

'Stay here,' he commanded. 'Sergeant.'

'What is it? What's happening?' Selina cried out after them, slamming down the phone.

Horton was aware that she was hurrying behind them as they raced down the stairs into reception. Whatever had caused the commotion Horton caught the tension of it here before sprinting across the yard.