Rowthorpe crossed the beech wood floor to the sofa where Janice was sitting and picked up a tumbler of amber liquid. Horton thought that he'd need a loudhailer to make conversation in a room this size as he followed him, and a compass to find your way around the house. He'd thought Sebastian Gilmore's house was a palace, but it was a mere shed compared to this. These men had made a mint out of their smuggling, and lives had been sacrificed because of their greed. Horton was determined to see that Croxton paid for it. He knew he too would suffer, because the truth about his mother would emerge, but maybe it was time for it all to come out, though he didn't know how Catherine would react to that. Fear gripped his heart at the thought that she might use it to prevent him from ever seeing Emma.
He stared down at Janice Hassingham and started violently. She was smiling and it transformed her face. She was no longer the dull, sad woman he and Cantelli had seen that morning in her office; years had sloughed off her and with it the heavy coarseness of her features. Her eyes were a vivid green and her usual pallid complexion was flushed with exhilaration. The breath suddenly caught in Horton's throat. From the first time he'd set eyes on her at Horsea Marina he had known there was something familiar about her, but it had taken this transformation for him to understand why he'd had that feeling. Now he knew what had triggered the memory of the man on the Town Camber quayside. He also knew the true identity of the man standing beside her.
'You're Warwick Hassingham,' he said, staring at Croxton, whilst his brain raced to assimilate this latest revelation and put it in place with everything else he had learned.
'I haven't used that name for years. Drink, Inspector, or should I say, Andy? After all we're old friends.'
That last comment brought Horton up sharply. It made him sick with fury. Here was his mother's boyfriend and the man who had killed her. He wanted to hurl himself at Warwick Hassingham and smash his face to a pulp. It took every ounce of his willpower not to do so and only the fact that he could see that was exactly what Hassingham wanted restrained Horton. They weren't alone in this house. Hassingham had protection. He spun round to see a man built like a brick outhouse, with shoulders bigger than DCI Dennings, standing in the doorway.
'My bodyguard, Trevor,' Warwick explained unnecessarily. Horton couldn't think of a more fitting job for eighteen stone of muscle. And he didn't fancy his chances against the shaven-headed muscle man. He turned his gaze back to Janice, who was looking smug; he'd get no help there.
'How long have you known that your brother was alive?' he addressed her sharply.
'Since I overheard Sebastian talking to Rowland on the telephone last Tuesday.'
'And that was why you were at the marina on Wednesday night? You went to see Tom.'
'Yes, I didn't know where he was until Rowley told me, but by then I was too late. He was already dead.'
'And how do you feel about your brother killing the only man you ever loved?' Horton said, watching her closely. Her eyes flicked to Warwick's.
'Sebastian killed Tom and that's why I had to kill him.'
'You locked him in the freezer.' So it was Janice.
'Yes.'
Then he recalled Sebastian's alibi. 'But Sebastian was at Tri Fare the night Brundall was killed.'
'The sales director lied. Seb asked him to. Selina went to Tri Fare alone. She lied to you too.'
Could Horton believe her? Her face was expressionless. Warwick was looking so sure of himself. Horton knew then that Warwick had killed Brundall and had spun his sister some claptrap about it being Sebastian. He'd got Janice to kill Sebastian for him. The evil bastard.
'Sit down,' Warwick commanded.
An arm shot out and Horton felt as though his shoulder had been trapped in a vice. He couldn't prevent a cry of agony escaping, as Muscles pushed him on to the sofa. Releasing him after a sign from Warwick, Horton rubbed his shoulder. Fuming with anger and smarting with pain, he said, 'Did you kill my mother?'
'Jennifer Horton's little boy a copper! It was a bit of a shock when Seb told me. It wasn't until Rowley returned to Portsmouth and made the connection that Seb realized who you were. I never thought you'd end up on the right side of the law. Just shows how wrong you can be about kids. It scared poor little Rowley almost shitless. Every day he lived in fear that you'd come knocking on his door to arrest him. He kept a very close eye on you.'
'You mean the newspapers.'
'You saw them?' Warwick glanced at his watch.
He knows I might have called for help and he wonders how long he's got. Horton wished now that he had done so, instead of telling Trueman to wait. His heart was thumping against his ribcage.
Warwick said, 'I managed to get rid of them after that woman vicar left for the church. I didn't expect the Church to put in a replacement so quickly and neither did Seb.'
'You killed Anne Schofield just because she'd seen those newspaper articles!' Horton cried, anger welling up in him.
'We couldn't take the risk. She said you'd already seen them.'
'So you frightened the poor woman into calling me, knowing that if she mentioned my mother I'd come running, and you thought you'd kill us both at the same time.'
'Pity you refused to die then, and on your boat. Although I thought I'd succeeded until Seb told me you'd been interviewing my sister. Still, third time lucky.'
Horton tried to ignore the threat, but he shuddered inside at the thought of the kind of end Hassingham had in store for him. It would probably be a house fire, if Hassingham ran true to form. And would Janice also be a victim? Horton guessed so, though Janice looked oblivious to the fact. Had Uckfield got enough information on James Rowthorpe and this house to connect it with the murders and alert the island's police? Horton doubted it and he was probably still waiting for that phone call from Horton, which unless he did something to get out of this, would never come.
He said, whilst trying to think of a diversion to distract Muscles' attention from him, 'Which one of you killed David Lynmor, the skeleton in Rowland's air-raid shelter?' He'd scored a point by the look of surprise on Warwick's face. Only it was a hollow victory; Horton doubted he'd be allowed to live long enough to celebrate.
'Lynmor was a pest. He tracked Rowley to Wales and then to Portsmouth.'
'And then he found Brundall in Guernsey and grabbed a local photographer to gatecrash Newton's party. We haven't been as slow or dim as you think,' Horton sneered, 'and even if you kill me, which I take it you intend to do, then there'll be others after you.'
'I doubt that. I disappeared once, I can do it again.'
'It might not be so easy next time,' Horton threatened, but could see his words held no terror for Warwick Hassingham. This man probably had various escape routes and identities already mapped out. 'Who killed Lynmor and Jacobs?'
'I killed Jacobs and Sebastian dealt with Lynmor. He lured him to Rowley's house and stuffed his body in the air-raid shelter. He knew that Rowley would never go in there and find it. Rowley was cracking under the pressure. He was our weakest link. When he entered the church Seb wondered if he'd confess but he managed to persuade Rowley that the church would be more grateful for his money than his confession, and besides if he confessed that he was party to a million-pound diamond raid and a murder, then they wouldn't take him and Rowley couldn't cope with that, not after his wife and kid had died. It meant more to him than anything, and so he kept quiet. But Seb and I always kept an eye on him.'