Dead Man's Wharf Page 16

  'You're saying that Farnsworth didn't have any feelings for anyone, but could simulate them if required and that he needed to be admired.' He thought of Nathan Lester and his theory that Lester had hero-worshipped Farnsworth. Maybe he hadn't been far out on that.

  'Yes. And with his obsession for success and fame, he probably drove Perry Jackson mad.'

  And that gave Jackson a stronger motive. Had Jackson finally got sick of being manipulated by Farnsworth? He said, 'Did you deliberately seek Farnsworth out in order to study him?'

  Daisy shook her head. 'No. I met him by chance at the diving club in July and recognized him from the television programme. I could see instantly that he fancied me and I must admit I was attracted to him. I didn't know then that he was narcissistic. I found him overwhelmingly charming and loving, which is, of course, typical of NPDs. Then gradually alarm bells began to ring and I diagnosed the illness, mentally of course. I thought at first that I might be able to help him get treatment. Not that I would have told him so in that blunt way, because Nick couldn't see that he was ill or wrong at all. On the contrary he was always right, and everyone else was inferior and inadequate. I began to make notes and I've been writing up his case.' She indicated the laptop. 'And now I suspect that one of his victims has killed him.'

  'Wouldn't they be too insecure to do that?' Horton asked, thinking back to what he'd learnt at the conference. The psychologist who had lectured them there hadn't been anything like Daisy Pemberton. If she had been then Horton doubted if any of his male colleagues would have heard a word she said. They'd have been too busy in their own fantasy land.

  'It depends on how long ago Nick ditched whoever it is, or when they walked out on the relationship. Of course, that would have taken some doing, but it wouldn't have been impossible, not if they'd had help from a friend or relative. Planning Nick's death could have given this person back the confidence that Nick had drained from them.'

  'How would Nick have behaved?'

  'At the start he would have been whatever the other person wanted him to be: charming, funny, sexy, vulnerable, you name it. Once he'd hooked his prey he'd change. Whatever traits you had that he found attractive he would gradually undermine.

  With me it was my intellect, which was why I rushed back here after ditching the wally last night and began writing. Nick would lie, cheat, drink and could become violent, though he was never that with me. He might have been with someone else, particlarly if the relationship went on for longer. Corinna Denton should consider herself lucky. She's had a narrow escape. Not that she'll see it like that.'

  No, but had Jason Kirkwood seen the change in Corinna and so had set out to kill Farnsworth? He had no alibi after ten o'clock, knew how to handle a boat, and he was a diver. But how many others had Nick destroyed that Horton didn't know about?

  'Would Nick have behaved the same way towards a man?'

  'Yes, if it meant getting what he wanted.'

  And was that a greater control over the television programme? A good reason for Jackson to have killed his co-presenter. He would like to have asked Daisy for her professional opinion about the missing fingers, but he couldn't yet. Not until he had completely ruled her out of his investigations. But if she had diagnosed Farnsworth's personality disorder correctly then he could consult the university forensic psychologist who occasionally assisted them.

  He said, 'Nick was found at Oldham's Wharf. Do you know what he might have been doing there?'

  She thought for a moment. 'No. But Ryan Oldham and Nick had a bit of a set-to a few months ago.'

  Horton was surprised at this new piece of information, though it confirmed what he had thought earlier. Oldham had known Farnsworth a lot better than he had admitted.

  'I overheard Nick talking to Oldham on the telephone,' Daisy continued. 'When Nick came off the phone he said that he would show Oldham a thing or two. Nick's NPD meant "showing him" would involve destroying the one thing that Oldham valued above all else, and that turned out to be his business. Or it would have done only now that Nick's dead the plan's scuppered.'

  It occurred to Horton that Daisy could be making this up.

  'I see I have your interest, but not your conviction that I'm telling the truth,' she said drily.

  Again he didn't think he'd shown any reaction. She was clever and quick. Or perhaps he was losing his touch.

  She gestured at the laptop. 'I can let you have my notes on Nick if it would help. And if it will make you believe me.'

  'Go on.'

  'Five months ago Nick accused Ryan Oldham of raping the seabed by extracting aggregates and disturbing the heritage and environment. It got in all the national newspapers and on the television. I'm surprised you didn't know about it.'

  That would have been August when Horton had been on suspension, living on Nutmeg and sailing to escape his loneliness and despair over his failed marriage and wrecked career. What with that, and weaning himself off the booze, following the news had not been top of his priorities. He guessed this had occurred when Cantelli had been on holiday, otherwise he would have remembered it.

  Daisy said, 'I believe Nick was going to make life even more difficult for Ryan Oldham by claiming at the conference he was due to speak at this June that Oldham's business was destroying important wrecks and the marine life in the Solent. Nick was devious and very clever.'

  'But not clever enough to stop himself being killed.'

  'No,' she said solemnly. After a short pause she added, 'I'm sure if you told me how he died I might be able to help more. That could be the key to his killer.'

  Horton wasn't going to fall for that, though he had to admit he was tempted. 'All I can say at this stage is he was discovered wearing his diving suit.'

  'Mmm, not much there.'

  'What about his background, upbringing?'

  'He was in the Royal Navy. I've seen photographs of him in uniform, so that much is true. According to him he was doing something top secret, but then he would say that. And not having your powers of investigation, I haven't found out what rank he was and what he did. Perhaps we can exchange notes?' she asked coyly, eyeing him in a way that made his loins stir, but the small voice of caution, ever present when it came to women and rela

  tionships, told him he was treading on thin ice, especially with this one.

  She gave a small shrug and continued. 'He was married, once, to Annette in 1995. Nick was in the navy then. She's now a lecturer at Bournemouth University. I called her before Christmas, but she wouldn't speak to me. Nick told me that he got divorced because she was stifling him, but I reckon the woman came to her senses when Nick left the navy and she saw what he was really like. The marriage lasted three years and they were divorced in 2001, no children. Nick left the navy in 1996 and according to the press cuttings and official biographies on him he took a sales job with a double glazing company and then became an estate agent in Haslemere in 1999 where he worked until he joined the TV programme in 2006.'

  So now they had several thousand motives as to why he was killed, Horton thought, wryly. And it would take for ever to trawl through every property transaction and dodgy double-glazing deal Farnsworth did between those years.

  Daisy said, 'He worked for Deansworths and was one of their most successful agents. He earned a great deal of money, which was how he was able to buy an expensive house on the outskirts of Haslemere. Not that I've ever been there. Nick and I tended to meet on board my boat.'

  It was said without any trace of embarrassment or defiance, but Horton didn't like to think of Farnsworth and Daisy 'meeting' anywhere, let alone here. He made sure he did not to betray his thoughts and kept his body still and his expression impassive. Maybe this time he had fooled her because she gave no hint that she'd read a reaction. The contents of Farnsworth's house would be examined very carefully, along with Farnsworth's past and finances, which was a job for DI Dennings and his team.

  'Do you know if he left a will?'

  'I doubt it. Nick would have
thought himself immortal.'

  Which confirmed Horton's own view. 'How long are you staying here, Miss Pemberton?'

  She smiled at, he guessed, his refusal to call her Daisy. 'Until Saturday. I'm off to the States on business on Sunday.'

  Horton would have thought there were enough sports personalities in Britain to keep her occupied, but maybe in the States they paid more for psychological counselling or whatever she did with them.

  He thanked her and promised to let her know the outcome of his investigations if they were completed by Saturday. Heading up the pontoon he felt a mixture of relief and regret that she was leaving before he resumed his berth in the marina.

  The police vehicle recovery unit was covering Farnsworth's car with a grey tarpaulin sheet prior to getting it on to the breakdown truck. He found Cantelli chafing his hands and stamping his feet in the biting north-easterly wind.

  'What did you get from the sub-aqua club?' he asked.

  'Farnsworth went diving with Nathan Lester and Gary Manners several times in the summer. Daniel Collins also went with Nathan Lester over the summer months until September, but he never went diving with Farnsworth.'

  There didn't seem much there of note. Horton told Cantelli what Daisy Pemberton had said finishing with, 'I'd like to talk to Farnsworth's ex-wife.'

  'You can't unless you fancy going to the Caribbean. Trueman's just confirmed she left for a dive when the university broke up for Christmas and isn't expected back until

  Saturday.'

  Shame. So she was crossed off his list of suspects. But they'd get the Caribbean police to check that she really was there.

  He glanced at his watch. By now Uckfield would be in the middle of his press conference and it was too early for Dr Clayton to have completed the autopsy on Farnsworth. He'd like a word with Jason Kirkwood, but first he wanted to check out if Daniel Collins had ever mentioned Nicholas Farnsworth to his work colleagues.

  That would also give him an excuse to investigate that other matter that was niggling away at the back of his mind: whether the Rest Haven Nursing Home was still under surveillance by Lee's mates from the Intelligence Directorate.

  THIRTEEN

  It wasn't. He could see that instantly. There were no vans with darkened windows parked in the street, no twitching curtains and no strange men walking up or down. Cantelli went off to the Rest Haven whilst Horton slipped across the road to the bed-and-breakfast hotel opposite. Twenty minutes later he was climbing into the car, where Cantelli was already waiting for him, having learned that an oriental-looking young woman and a burly man had taken the room opposite the Rest Haven on 29 December and had left on the afternoon of 5 January – Monday – when he and Cantelli had shown up there in answer to Mr Kingsway's complaints. During that time, according to the hotel owner, the young woman hadn't been very well and had hardly left the room. That wasn't surprising, thought Horton.

  He hadn't given the real reason for his inquiries; instead he'd told her that he was looking for somewhere to stay whilst his aunt was in the Rest Haven. It was the same reason that DC Lee and her partner had given.

  'Daniel Collins never mentioned Farnsworth to any of the day staff,' Cantelli said, turning on to the seafront. 'They only know Farnsworth through the diving programme that Mrs Kingsway's such an avid fan of.'

  'It was a long shot.' Horton stared out to sea. The Isle of Wight stood out starkly, always a sign of bad weather approaching. He could see the town of Ryde climbing the hill and the shapes of the houses along Seagrove Bay. Cantelli hadn't questioned his trip to the bed and-breakfast hotel and now Horton wrestled to put the information he'd just learnt with the other scraps he'd gleaned about Lee, which wasn't much at all. Maybe Cantelli would come up with something. He told him what he'd just discovered.

  Cantelli looked incredulous. 'But what could be going on there that warrants the Intelligence Directorate's involvement?' he asked, puzzled.

  It was a question Horton had already asked himself several times. He said, 'It has to be something to do with the Eburys; the Intelligence Directorate pulled out on the morning of Peter Ebury's death thinking they were no longer needed there.'

  'Then why put DC Lee with us?'

  'Scared we might stumble on something and ruin their investigation I reckon.'

  'And does it involve Daniel Collins?'

  Horton wondered about that. 'Possibly.' But why and how he didn't know.

  'And Farnsworth?'

  'No. I think it's just a coincidence that he and Daniel were both divers.' Though the close proximity of their deaths still rankled with Horton.

  'You mean the Eburys and Daniel Collins could have been professionally silenced?'

  Horton stared ahead. 'It's possible.' Especially, he thought, if a major criminal was behind whatever the Intelligence Directorate were investigating. 'Let's just tread carefully, eh, Barney, and keep this to ourselves for now?'

  'I'll make out like I'm tiptoeing through a minefield. I just hope there are no unexploded bombs lying in wait for us,' Cantelli said, swinging into the car park of the Queen's Hotel. 'Do you think Marion and Ian Keynes could be involved in what's going on at the Rest Haven? Angela Northwood doesn't much care for Keynes. She claims she's lazy and a poor

  manager of staff. She confirms Keynes was on duty Christmas Eve.'

  Horton thought of the slovenly, overweight Marion Keynes with her spiteful tongue, and of what Mrs Collins had said the night Daniel Collins had died: he wanted to make sure I had the best possible treatment and was going to see to it that I did.

  'It's possible,' he said. 'We'll talk to her again.'

  Horton quickly scanned the reception area of the Queen's Hotel for journalists and was relieved to find there weren't any. They were probably all at Uckfield's press conference. They made their way to Kirkwood's room. Outside Horton said, 'Talk to Corinna again, Barney. Find out what she knows about Farnsworth's relationship with Nathan Lester and the marine archaeological project, and see if she knows of or has heard of Daniel Collins.'

  Horton knocked once, got no answer, and was about to knock again when the door opened.

  'Found out who killed him yet?' Kirkwood said, leaving Horton to close the door behind him.

  Kirkwood flopped down on the bed where Horton could see he was working on a laptop computer. His faded jeans hardly stayed up on his slender hips and he was wearing an overlarge grey T-shirt. With his pale green eyes, slightly sallow complexion and short auburn hair, he looked little more than twenty-five, though Horton guessed he was older.

  Horton eyed the dishevelled room with distaste. There were clothes scattered on the floor and papers on the dressing table and chest of drawers. The room smelt of sweat, sleep and stale beer as well as the remains of a hamburger, which he could see in a carton on the bed.

  'Why did you make those last two threatening calls to Mr Jackson?' It was a guess, but a good one, and Horton saw instantly he was spot on. Kirkwood's head came up. He looked as if he was about to deny it, but after a moment he shrugged his skinny shoulders.

  'It seemed like a good idea at the time. Thought I might get them worried.' His attention returned to his computer.

  'You might have managed to get one of them killed.'

  Kirkwood scoffed. 'How do you make that out?'

  'The press coverage could have given our killer the idea.'

  'Then Nick shouldn't have started it. It was a stupid idea. Nick was full of them.' Kirkwood didn't bother looking up from his computer screen.

  Horton had had enough. Sternly he said, 'Mr Kirkwood, do you think I could have your full attention, or would you rather answer these questions at the station, where you will be free from distractions?'

  It did the trick. Kirkwood sighed, pushed down the lid of the laptop and shifted his narrow backside up the bed so that he was leaning against the headboard. 'Fire away.' He folded his arms and eyed Horton curiously.

  'When did your engagement to Ms Denton break up?'

  Kirkwood
's expression darkened. 'August, but the bastard had been screwing her since June. He took great pleasure in telling me that. And it was while we were filming the Diving off Dorset series. I should have left him trapped in a wreck, the two-timing scheming git.'

  'Instead you lured him to Oldham's Wharf and killed him?'

  'You're kidding.' Kirkwood's lips formed the edge of a smile, then obviously seeing that Horton was serious, he quickly added, 'Of course I didn't.'

  'You quarrelled though.'

  'Wouldn't you? I told Corinna not to be such a bloody idiot. She said she and Farnsworth were in love.'

  Those pale green eyes weren't so relaxed now, thought Horton. Here was a man who'd had his pride severely dented and his ego crushed. Horton knew what it was like to be tossed aside and compared with the next lover and his body stiffened involuntarily. He had wanted to tear Edward Shawford, his wife's lover, to pieces and had only just managed to stop himself. Had Jason Kirkwood felt the same way and killed Farnsworth? Quite frankly, though, looking at him, Horton didn't think Kirkwood strong enough either mentally or physically to get the better of Farnsworth.