Shawford’s head jerked back in surprise. ‘You mean he’s dead?’
‘Possibly. Now are you going to answer our questions or do I have to ask you to come to the station?’
Shawford licked his full lips nervously. ‘I saw him beside the road on Tuesday evening. I pulled over and asked if he’d like a lift.’
‘That was very chivalrous of you.’
‘I can do without your sarcasm,’ flashed Shawford.
‘And I can do without your lies,’ snapped Horton. ‘Why did you give him a lift?’
Shawford took a breath but didn’t speak. Horton could see his mind racing, obviously deciding exactly what and how much to tell them. The truth would be nice but Horton doubted he’d get it. He remained silent, keeping his eyes on Shawford, knowing it was only a matter of time and nerve before he cracked, but Seaton’s clear voice broke the heavy silence.
‘Where did you take Luke?’
Horton could have slapped the PC. He hadn’t yet learnt that silence was a powerful weapon. But he would. Horton flashed him an angry glance. Seaton flinched. Shawford visibly relaxed.
‘Portchester Castle.’
It wasn’t the answer Horton had been expecting, or was it? If it was the truth, then it strengthened the theory that Felton knew about the Trotmans and had gone there to get money. It could also mean Felton had returned there on Thursday night or Friday morning and killed Venetia Trotman.
‘Why there?’ Horton asked sharply.
‘He said it was where he wanted to go. He didn’t give a reason and I didn’t ask him.’
‘And you just happened to be going that way,’ taunted Horton.
Shawford’s eyes narrowed, clearly with hatred. ‘It’s the route I take home from the factory,’ he said through clenched teeth.
‘Diverting down to the castle off the main road isn’t on your route.’
‘It’s a few minutes diversion, no more.’
Clearly Shawford wasn’t going to budge on that. There had to be a reason why he’d offered Felton a lift, and gone out of his way to drop him off at Portchester Castle. The Shawfords of this world didn’t do anything unless there was something in it for them.
Seaton said, ‘What did you talk about, sir?’
‘Can’t remember. This and that. How he was settling in, that kind of thing.’
Horton felt like saying ‘bollocks’. Shawford was lying, but he was also growing more confident and Horton wondered why.
‘Did Luke speak about Natalie Raymonds?’ he asked.
‘Who?’
That was so obviously a lie that even Shawford realized they’d know it and shifted uneasily, but he didn’t make the mistake of elaborating on it, or trying to back-pedal. This time Seaton didn’t break the silence. He’d learnt his lesson. And Shawford kept his nerve, finally forcing Horton to say, ‘She’s the woman Luke Felton murdered.’
Shawford fiddled with his keys. ‘He didn’t mention her.’
Horton wondered at Shawford’s evasiveness. He said, ‘How did you feel about the company employing a killer?’
‘It’s nothing to do with me. I’m sales not personnel. Now if there’s-’
‘Where exactly did you drop Felton?’
‘In the car park opposite the castle.’
‘Were there any other cars there?’
‘I didn’t really notice.’
Horton thought that at least was the truth. ‘Anybody hanging around or walking past the castle?’
‘I wasn’t paying attention.’
And if Luke was meeting someone there, then he must have arrived early, because he could have had no way of knowing that he was going to be offered a lift.
‘What did Luke do next?’
Shawford eyed him, puzzled. ‘He got out. I turned the car round and left.’
Horton eyed him steadily, searching for the lie. It sounded and looked like the truth, but an experienced salesman like Shawford was practised in the art of lying. And Horton didn’t trust or believe him one iota. He also wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily.
‘Been out on your new boat?’
The question took Shawford by surprise. The fear was back in his eyes. He eyed Horton warily before snapping, ‘Yes.’
‘Where have you been?’
‘That’s none of your business.’ He made to climb into the car, but Horton stalled him.
‘Everything’s my business when I’m looking for a missing prisoner.’
‘Well, you won’t find him on my boat.’
Horton raised his eyebrows and glanced at Seaton. ‘Now that’s an idea. We hadn’t thought of that. Maybe you didn’t drop him off at Portchester Castle but drove him here. You invited him on board, then killed him and pushed him overboard in the Solent.’
‘You’re mad!’ Shawford paled.
‘Am I?’ Horton began to wonder whether a theory he’d posed in order to frighten Shawford might actually hold water. What motive Shawford could have for killing Felton, Horton had no idea; Seaton though was eyeing him admiringly, as though he’d solved the crime of the decade in a flash of inspiration. But Shawford was an experienced sailor and could have used his boat to get from Horsea Marina to Willow Bank quite easily, Horton thought. But why would Shawford hitch up with Felton, and why kill Venetia Trotman? However much he hated him, Horton couldn’t see Shawford as a killer.
Alarmed, Shawford said, ‘I dropped Luke off at Portchester Castle and went home. I got in at just after seven. You can ask my neighbour. I saw her in the lobby.’
‘You might have left Felton, dead, on your boat and returned later to get rid of the body.’
‘Christ! You’re insane. You’re trying to fit me up, just because I’m in a relationship with Catherine. I want a lawyer.’
‘Why? You’ve not been charged,’ Horton replied, feigning bewilderment. OK, so he was rather enjoying this.
‘I know you bastards. You’ll twist everything I say.’
‘Had much dealing with the law then?’
‘Sod off, Horton.’
Horton smiled, which seemed to send Shawford into a purple fit. His fists clenched, but with supreme effort he managed to control himself. Pity. Horton would have relished being thumped and then charging the man.
‘We’ll need to search your boat.’
‘Then you’ll need a warrant.’
‘So you have got something to hide,’ Horton taunted, ignoring the pleading look Seaton was throwing him. Good job Cantelli wasn’t here, Horton thought. He’d be having kittens.
‘You could plant something.’
‘Tch, tch, you obviously don’t hold the police in very high regard.’ Horton leaned forward and lowered his voice. ‘But then I think you’re a useless piece of shit.’
Shawford flushed. ‘How dare you. . Did you hear that?’
Seaton looked confused. ‘Sorry, sir, must be the noise of that helicopter going over.’
‘What bloody. . Oh, I see, sticking together. Well, I don’t have to put up with your crap any longer.’ He climbed in the car and this time Horton didn’t prevent him, but he leaned down and tapped on the window. Shawford looked in two minds whether to lower it, but finally did so with ill grace.
Pleasantly Horton said, ‘We’ll need you to come to the station and make a statement about giving Luke Felton a lift.’
‘What, now?’ Shawford snatched a glance at his watch.
Why, you got a date with Catherine? ‘Yes, now. We’ll follow you.’
‘You can try,’ said Shawford, gunning the engine.
Watching the car speed away Seaton said, ‘Do you really think he killed Felton?’
Horton considered it for a moment. ‘No, but I want a warrant to search his boat, and we’ll take forensic samples from it.’ If only to annoy Shawford, thought Horton. Aloud he said, ‘You can check his story tomorrow with his neighbour, and see if anyone around Portchester Castle remembers seeing Felton there on Tuesday evening. Meanwhile, if you can give up more of your Sunday, you can take Shawford’s statement.’