'Is it true that Sebastian is dead?' she asked.
'Yes.'
She nodded sadly and waved them into seats across her desk.
'Were you working late last night?' Horton asked.
'Yes, but I didn't see anything or anyone. Seb returned from London at about four thirty. I know that because he came straight to my office to ask me about the accounts. It's our year end on thirty-first of December and there's always a lot to do this time of year. He stayed for about thirty minutes, whilst I ran through the final figures, which are showing a healthy profit. Then he returned to his office, or so I assumed. He wasn't in a very good mood, said the conference had been a complete waste of time organized and chaired by…well, incompetent people, although Seb was more coarse with his choice of language.'
Horton could imagine. 'Was he still here when you left?'
'Yes. His car was parked in its usual spot. I left here at eight o'clock, went straight home, had something to eat, watched TV and went to bed.'
And Horton guessed it was the same every night for Janice. 'Where is home?'
'I have an apartment in Admiralty Towers in Queens Street, not far from the harbour.'
Horton knew it. A whole rash of expensive and exclusive apartments had erupted on the site of the old brewery, cheek by jowl with council flats in one of the most deprived areas of Portsmouth — the one that Rowland Gilmore had administered over.
'Did you ever visit St Agnes's?' he asked casually.
She eyed him keenly. 'No. Wrong faith. I go to St John's Cathedral. But if you're asking did I ever see Rowland or come across him, then the answer is yes, very occasionally when I was walking to Mass or coming back from the shops. And before you ask, Inspector, no, we never spoke and I never so much as acknowledged him. Besides, I don't think he recognized me.'
'Why didn't you speak?'
She shrugged her shoulders. 'I didn't see any need to. Sebastian had nothing to do with his brother so I didn't think it was necessary or appropriate for me to strike up an acquaintance.'
Horton wondered if she blamed Rowland Gilmore for not saving her brother, and along with him Tom Brundall. Sebastian had been at the helm so perhaps he was absolved of any blame.
Horton left a short pause before asking the next question, a critical one. 'Ms Hassingham, when your brother was fishing with the Gilmores and Tom Brundall, did he ever say anything that made you think they might be doing something illegal?' He saw her stiffen.
'Of course not.'
Horton eyed her carefully. It appeared she was telling the truth. Her shock and surprise at his question seemed genuine.
'Did Sebastian see his brother after that encounter at the Town Camber?'
'He might have done. I don't know. I wonder what will happen now. I suppose Selina will take over the business.'
And how would Janice take that? From her frown, he guessed not well. They left her to her work. Horton noted that she didn't hurry along the corridor to comfort Selina.
'Sad woman,' Cantelli said when they were outside. 'It's as if you're staring at a world of missed opportunities and regrets when you look at her.'
And you were, Horton thought. 'Let's take a look in Sebastian's office.'
There was no police officer on the door and it wasn't locked. Dennings hadn't got round to that yet, which was rather remiss of him. He should at least have sent a uniformed officer up here to seal off the room. Maybe he thought they'd already covered that, Horton grudgingly admitted.
He crossed to Sebastian's gigantic desk, whilst Cantelli rummaged around in the filing cabinets. 'What are we looking for?'
'You don't need me to tell you that. But if you come across.. ' Horton paused as he tried to pull open one of the desk drawers. It had got stuck on something, a piece of paper right at the back. He stretched in and released it and the drawer opened easily. It was an itemized telephone bill for the last month. Horton didn't expect to find the killer's phone number on it — Sebastian Gilmore wouldn't be that stupid — but it would certainly be worthwhile checking out these numbers and talking to Gilmore's contacts and friends. Maybe, Horton thought, scanning the numbers, they'd discover that Sebastian had spoken to his brother more recently than twelve years ago. They'd also need to check his landline. But it was Dennings' job to organize this. Horton had to get on with those CID cases as no doubt DCI Bliss would soon remind him.
'I wonder where Gilmore's mobile phone is. It wasn't on his body or in his car.'
'Perhaps his killer threw it into the fish tank,' Cantelli said, peering inside. 'There are some ugly-looking buggers in here.'
'I don't expect they find you their pin-up of the month.' That got a small smile from Cantelli.
'It's surprising what ends up in these things; drugs seem to be popular. The number of poor bloody fish I've seen high.'
Finishing his search of the desk, Horton glanced out of the window as the SOCO van entered the yard.
'Get PC Johns, Barney. He can stand guard here.' Horton continued his swift search whilst waiting for Johns. It revealed nothing. He left Johns with instructions not to admit anyone, and joined Cantelli who had collected the CCTV recordings from the security officer. At the station Cantelli took the tapes to the CID office to view while Horton gave Sebastian Gilmore's itemized telephone bill to Trueman. Any news on Peter Croxton?' Horton asked.
'Which one? We've found twelve so far.'
'Lucky his name wasn't Smith then. I'll be in my office if you get anything new.'
Horton was pleased to see that DCI Bliss wasn't around. He would dearly love to get a piece of evidence before Dennings. He hoped that one of the recordings might show someone entering that warehouse after Sebastian Gilmore, though he couldn't really believe the killer would be that stupid or they'd be that lucky.
He groaned at the sight of his in-tray, which was overflowing on to his chair. There were pieces of paper with yellow Post-it notes stuck on them, urging him to attend to this report, or review this file, or call someone back, but there was one file that caught his eye. Ignoring all the others he picked it up and sat down.
It was thicker than he had anticipated. He could hardly breathe through fear of what he might be about to read on his mother and tried to steel his heart to repel the emotions that he felt sure were bound to assail him. Urging himself to consider this as just another missing person's case, and perhaps one which might provide him with some idea of what the Gilmores had been up to in 1977, he read on. Very soon, though, he found that his emotions were firmly in check and his police training had asserted itself. The investigation into Jennifer Horton's disappearance had been more thorough than he had expected.
A woman had formally reported Jennifer missing; she'd been listed as Horton's head teacher. He remembered her teasing the information out of him and went cold as he recalled that terrible day when he had eventually been taken from school by a social worker back to the flat and from there to a dismal house full of smells, other children and cold, tiny rooms. He shuddered and quickly turned his thoughts back to the file. There had followed a series of interviews with the people who had worked with Jennifer and her neighbours, including the lady that Horton had spoken to earlier at Jensen House, Mrs Cobden. There wasn't much more to add to the information that she'd already given him. Jennifer had left the flat at about one o'clock that day. She had been wearing her best clothes, and make-up, and was in good spirits. Mrs Cobden said she thought Jennifer was going to meet a man, though she had no real evidence to back that up.