I have seen her in the street maybe five times since June but did not speak to her until the morning of Saturday, 9 August, when I realized I couldn't avoid her. She was outside Tesco's, and we said good morning to each other. She told me she was looking for some sandals for Hannah, and I said I was in a hurry to get off because I was sailing to Poole for the weekend. That was the extent of our conversation. I did not see her again. I admit that I was very aggrieved by her persecution of me, and developed a strong dislike for her, but I have no idea how she came to drown in the sea off the Dorset coast.
A long interview with Tony Bridges produced a corroborative statement. As DS Campbell had predicted, Bridges was known to the Lymington police as a cannabis user, but they took a tolerant view of it. "Once in a while his neighbors complain when he has a party in there, but it's alcohol that makes them raucous, not cannabis, and even the blue-rinse brigade are finally beginning to realize that." Rather more surprisingly, he was also a respected chemistry teacher at one of the local schools. "What Tony does in the privacy of his home is his own affair," said his headmaster. "As far as I'm concerned, the policing of my colleagues' morals outside school hours isn't part of my job description. If it were, I would probably lose some of my better staff. Tony's an inspirational teacher who enthuses children in a difficult subject. I have a lot of time for him."
I've known Steven Harding for eighteen years. We attended the same primary and secondary schools and have been friends ever since. He sleeps in my house when his boat's out of commission or during the winter when it's too cold for him to stay on board. I used to know his parents quite well before they moved to Cornwall in 1991, but I have not seen them since. Steve sailed down to Falmouth two summers ago, but I don't believe he's made any other visits to Cornwall. He divides his life between his flat in London and his boat in Lymington.
He told me on more than one occasion this year that he was having problems with a woman called Kate Sumner, who was stalking him. He described her and her child as weird, and said they scared him. His car alarm kept going off, and he told me he thought it was Kate Sumner who was activating it and asked me if he should report it to the police. It was a pretty odd story, so I wasn't sure whether to believe him or not. Then he pointed out the feces on the car-door handle and told me how Kate Sumner had wiped her child's nappy on his sheets. I told him that if he brought the police into it it would get worse rather than better and suggested he find somewhere else to park his car. As far as I know, that sorted the problem.
I have never spoken to Kate or Hannah Sumner. Steve pointed them out to me once in the middle of Lymington then dragged me around a corner so we wouldn't have to speak to them. His reluctance was genuine. I believe he found her seriously intimidating. I met William Sumner once in a pub at the beginning of this year. He was drinking alone and invited Steve and me to join him. He knew Steve already because they'd been introduced to each other by Kate after Steve had helped her with her shopping. I left after about half an hour, but Steve told me later that he went back to William's house to continue a discussion they were having about sailing. He said William used to race a Contessa and was interesting to talk to.
Steve's a good-looking bloke and has an active sex life. He has at least two girls on the go at the same time because he's not interested in settling down. He's obsessed with sailing and told me once that he could never get serious about anyone who didn't sail. He's not the kiss-and-tell type, and as I never listen to names, I've no idea who he's got on the go at the moment. When he's not acting, he can always get regular work as a photographic model. Mostly he models clothes, but he's done a few sessions for pornographic magazines. He needs money to fund the flat in London and keep Crazy Daze afloat, and that kind of work pays well. He's not ashamed of the photographs, but I've never known him to show them around. I've no idea where he stores them.
I saw Steve on the evening of Friday, 8 August. He dropped in to tell me he was off to Poole the next day and wouldn't see me again until the following weekend. He mentioned that he had an audition in London on Monday, 11 August, and said he was planning to catch the last train back on Sunday night. Later, a mutual friend, Bob Winterslow, who lives near the station, told me that Steve had rung from his boat to ask if he could borrow a sofa Sunday night in order to catch the first train on Monday morning. But he stayed on board and missed his audition. This is standard for Steve. He tends to come and go as he pleases. I became aware that Steve had cocked up when his agent, Graham Barlow, phoned me on Monday morning to say there was no sign of Steve in London and he wasn't answering his mobile phone. I phoned friends to see if anyone knew where he was, then borrowed a dinghy to go out to Crazy Daze. I discovered that Steve was badly hung over, and that this was the reason for his nonappearance.
I spent the weekend, 9-10 August, with my girlfriend Beatrice "Bibi" Gould, whom I've known for four months. On Saturday night we went to a rave at the Jamaica Club in Southampton, returning home at approximately 4:00 a.m. We slept through till sometime Sunday p.m. I know nothing about Kate Sumner's death, although I am completely sure that Steven Harding had nothing to do with it. He is not an aggressive person.
(Police note: this rave certainly took place, but there is no way of checking whether A. Bridges & B. Gould were present. Rough estimate of numbers at the Jamaica Club on Saturday night: 1,000+.)
Beatrice Gould's statement supported Bridges' and Harding's in all relevant details.
I'm nineteen years old, and I work as a hairdresser in Get Ahead in Lymington High Street. I met Tony Bridges at a pub disco about four months ago, and he introduced me to Steve Harding a week later. They've been friends for a long time, and Steve uses Tony's house as a base in Lymington when he can't stay on his boat for any reason. I've come to know Steve quite well over the time Tony and I have been together. Several of my friends would like to go out with him, but he's not interested in settling down and tends to avoid heavy relationships. He's a good-looking bloke, and because he's an actor as well, girls throw themselves at him. He told me once that he thinks they see him as a stud and that he really hates it. I know he's had a lot of problems in that way with Kate Sumner. He was nice to her once, and afterward she wouldn't leave him alone. He said he thought she was lonely, but that didn't give her the right to make his life a misery. It got to the point that he'd hide behind corners while Tony or I checked to see if she was on the other side. I think she must have been mentally disturbed. The worst thing she did was smear her daughter's dirty nappies on his car. I thought that was completely disgusting and told Steve that he should report her to the police.
I didn't see Steve the weekend of 9-10 August. I went to Tony's house at 4:30 p.m. on Saturday, 9 August, and at about 7:30 p.m. we left for the Jamaica Club in Southampton. We go there a lot because Daniel Agee is a brilliant DJ and we really like his style. I stayed at Tony's until 10:00 p.m. on Sunday night, then went home. My permanent address is Sixty-seven Shorn Street, Lymington, where I live with my parents, but I spend most weekends and some weekday nights with Tony Bridges. I like Steve Harding a lot, and I don't believe he had anything to do with Kate Sumner's death. He and I get on really well together.
Detective Superintendent Carpenter sat in silence while John Galbraith read through all three statements. "What do you think?" he asked when the other had finished. "Does Harding's story ring true? Is that a Kate Sumner you recognize?"
Galbraith shook his head. "I don't know. I haven't got a feel for her yet. She was like Harding, a bit of a chameleon, play-acted different roles to suit different people." He reflected for a moment. "I suppose one thing in Harding's defense is that when she rubbed someone up the wrong way she did it in spades-really got under their skin, in other words. Did you read those statements I sent you? Her mother-in-law didn't like her at all, and neither did Wendy Plater, William's ex-girlfriend, who was cut out of the running by Kate. You could argue it was straightforward jealousy on both counts, but I got the impression there was more to it than that. They used the same word to describe her. 'Manipulative.' Angela Sumner referred to her as the most self-centered and calculating woman she had ever met, and the girlfriend said lying was second nature to her. William said she was single-minded about what she wanted and had him wound around her finger from the first time she met him." He shrugged. "Whether any of that means she was stalking a man she became infatuated with, I don't know. I wouldn't have expected her to be so blatant but"-he spread his hands in perplexity-"she was pretty blatant in her pursuit of a comfortable lifestyle."