The Suffocating Sea

'I don't think so.' Gutner hadn't said.

Gaye continued. 'Because of this flu bug, and your body on the boat, his autopsy was put back. It's being done tomorrow morning. We're working overtime. I suppose you'd like me to do it.'

'Yes.'

She nodded and suppressed a yawn. 'Anything I should be looking for in particular?'

'My witness says Reverend Gilmore-'

'He was a vicar?'

'Yes. Why?'

'I'm surprised the church hasn't been on my back trying to hurry things along.'

'I rather get the impression that Gilmore wasn't one of their shining stars. His parish was in Portsea and he was a little eccentric. Apparently Gilmore was taking a service when he began to stumble over his words. He had convulsions and collapsed.' '

What time was this?'

'At six forty-five.'

She scribbled the time down. 'I'll do a thorough autopsy tomorrow.' 'Thanks. I appreciate it.'

Back at the station he looked up the incident log to see who had gone to the church, then lifted his phone and asked Sergeant Stride if PC Johns was on duty. He was. Two minutes later Johns knocked on Horton's door. He stood the other side of Horton's desk looking bloody cocksure of himself, just as he always did.

'You were called to an incident at St Agnes's Church in Portsea on Wednesday night. The vicar was taken ill,' Horton said crisply.

'Yes, sir.'

'Tell me about it.'

'I was in the patrol car with PC Allen. By the time we got to the church the ambulance had arrived. I spoke to a couple of parishioners-'

'Their names?' Horton knew that one was Kenneth Gutner, but he wasn't going to tell Johns that.

Johns retrieved his notebook and after a moment said, 'Mr Kenneth Gutner and Miss Alice Weekes.'

'And what did they say?'

Johns looked surprised. 'Just that the vicar suddenly took ill. He started slurring his words and then collapsed.'

'Nothing else.'

'No, sir.'

'Nothing about the vicar having convulsions?'

Horton saw a sneer of contempt in PC Johns' face accompanied by a knowing smile. 'Mr Gutner did mention something about the vicar having some kind of fit.'

'But you didn't note it.'

'I thought the old man was exaggerating. He seemed to be telling the paramedics how to do their job. One of those know-it-all types.' Johns smiled.

Horton thought he'd wipe that grin from Johns' face. 'Do you know what makes a good policeman, Constable, and an even better detective? Obviously not, so let me tell you. Never make instant decisions about anyone based on your own prejudices. Develop an instinct or a nose about them fine, but never rely on it, and always note every little detail no matter how insignificant because it might just make the difference between catching our criminal and letting him get away. Do you understand?'

'Yes, sir.' Johns tried to look contrite but Horton could see he was livid at being reprimanded.

'It is possible that the Reverend Gilmore's death is linked to the man who was killed in the explosion on his boat.' Johns looked amazed. 'OK, you can go, and Johns…' Horton stopped him as he reached the door. 'Just because someone is old it doesn't mean they are senile and that their evidence should be dismissed. And neither does it mean they should be patronized. Remember that and we might make a policeman out of you, yet.'

Horton wondered if he would remember. Johns reminded him of Dennings and it wasn't just the build. Johns was the sort of copper who was good on a raid and out in the van on a Saturday and Friday night, but detection and understanding the subtleties of people would pass him by. And talking of Dennings, Horton rose and made for the incident suite. He must have some information on Sherbourne's death by now, and perhaps there was something more on Brundall. Horton also thought it was about time Cantelli returned from his interview with the woman with the dog.

Nine

'Brundall told Mrs Davis that he used to live in Portsmouth years ago,' Cantelli said to Horton's enquiry. 'She claims he was much thinner than in the photograph I showed her, and which was on the television, but she can swear it was him and she described the car. This was at twelve fifteen. She walks the dog before she goes on duty. She's an agency nurse at the hospital.'

'Did she see him drive off?'

'Yes, when she came back about fifteen minutes later.'

Horton thought for a moment before saying, 'He met Reverend Gilmore at St Agnes's at three thirty, and he called Sherbourne about four fifteen. So where did he go between twelve fifteen and three thirty?'

'To his parents' grave? Marsden's discovered they're buried in Kingston Cemetery. I've contacted the CCTV control office and asked if we can check the tapes along Kingston Road. If he was heading for his parents' grave he might have driven into the city that way. And there's a camera on the corner of St Mary's Road leading to the cemetery. Seaton's picking up the tapes.'

'There's another entrance into the cemetery from New Road and no CCTV there,' Horton remarked, then, turning to Marsden, 'Take a photograph of Brundall and ask around at the cemetery. Did anyone see him there at any time, but particularly between twelve thirty and three fifteen on Tuesday afternoon? If he went there then it would have been before going to St Agnes's because it gets dark at three thirty and the cemetery closes then. Are there any flowers on his parents' grave, if so who did he buy them from? Where did he park his car? Did anyone see it? You'd better hurry because it'll be dark soon. If you get no joy today, go back tomorrow morning.'

Marsden rushed out looking relieved to escape the confines of the incident suite for a while.

Horton said, 'There are several cameras along Queens Street; we might pick up Brundall on his way to St Agnes's.'

'I'll get Walters to check.'

'Where is he, by the way?'

'Still interviewing the shopkeepers, I assume. I haven't seen him.'

'He's taking his time.'

'You know Walters, probably stopped for a three course lunch.'

'Either that or he's meeting his girlfriend to make up for lost time Wednesday night. Obviously you didn't know about her?' Horton added, seeing Cantelli's startled look.

'No, but I'd like to meet the woman who can put up with Walters. She must be quite a gal.'

'Perhaps he'll bring her to the dinner and dance.' That would be a first, thought Horton. Maybe he could ask Dr Clayton if she'd go with him. Would she accept? She probably already had a boyfriend or even a partner for all he knew.

Cantelli said, 'Talking of saints, how did you get on at the church?'

Horton told him, leaving out the bit about his mother. He might tell Cantelli, later, when he was ready, and had made some sense of it himself, but not here and not now.

Horton turned to Trueman. 'Is there anything from DI Dennings?'

'If there is the super hasn't told me. I've e-mailed Inspector Guilbert the passenger lists of all the flights out of England to Guernsey on Thursday morning, but it'll take some time to work through them, unless someone's name automatically jumps out.'

And Horton hoped it would but he didn't think they would be that lucky. He asked Trueman to get him all the information he could find on Sebastian Gilmore and to get an officer checking for links between Rowland Gilmore and Tom Brundall, then knocked on the superintendent's door.

Looking up from his desk, Uckfield said, 'The Guernsey pathologist has confirmed Sherbourne was strangled; there is damage to the thyroid cartilage, and the hyoid bone, just above the Adam's apple. He claims it's difficult to tell how long Sherbourne had been dead before the fire but he reckons at least four hours, which ties in with when he went missing.'