Shroud of Evil

by Pauline Rowson

  ‘Once close to Veerman’s house, or on the shore, Veerman shoots Kenton. He knows that the method of death will cause little blood spatter, if any, and that it is also a silent weapon, in case anyone is around to hear it, which is unlikely. There’s only Thelma and she’s inside the house. It is isolated and it’s dark. Veerman manhandles Kenton to his boathouse. Kenton is still alive but in no position to put up a fight with a bolt in his heart. Veerman leaves him in the boathouse and waits until he slips into unconsciousness, then he returns Kenton’s boat to the Hamble and stays on it, making sure everything is clean before leaving for work on Friday morning in his own car as though nothing has happened.’

  Dennings heaved himself onto a chair, which creaked at the impact. ‘So how does he get Kenton’s car from the Hamble to Admiralty Towers for four forty-one Saturday morning, when he’s asleep on the Isle of Wight?’

  ‘If he’s asleep on the Isle of Wight.’ Horton addressed Trueman. ‘What time are the ferry sailings on Saturday morning from Fishbourne?

  ‘One a.m.’

  Horton said, ‘He couldn’t have been on that because he was on the ferry heading to Fishbourne.’

  ‘And the next sailing after that is at four a.m.’

  And it would take about thirty-five minutes to cross to Portsmouth, another thirty minutes to drive to the Hamble, collect Kenton’s car and then drive it back to Portsmouth. It wasn’t possible unless …

  ‘He had an accomplice,’ Horton said, his mind racing. ‘Thelma Veerman could be lying and she caught the one a.m. sailing.’

  But Trueman shook his head. ‘No one could have done – it was cancelled.’

  Horton rapidly rethought. ‘OK then, Veerman pops out of the hospital on Friday and drives to the Hamble. His accomplice or lover follows him. Veerman switches to Kenton’s car and drives it back to Portsmouth where he leaves it parked in a side street. His accomplice drives him back to the Hamble where Veerman gets into his own car and returns to work. But the accomplice moves the car into the Admiralty Towers car park in the early hours of Saturday morning.’

  But Uckfield wasn’t buying it. ‘Why, when it will implicate Veerman in Kenton’s death?’

  ‘And why wait until Saturday morning?’ interjected Dennings.

  Horton felt like saying how the hell do I know. He thought swiftly. ‘Because the lover wants to force their affair into the open.’

  ‘And risk being caught!’ exclaimed Uckfield incredulously.

  And Uckfield knew more about lovers than any of them, considering the number of affairs he’d had. Horton recalled his conversation with Danby about Kenton not being very good at surveillance operations. He’d already previously considered that Veerman could have spotted Kenton following him and that now seemed even more likely. And Veerman and his lover had carefully planned this murder.

  Undeterred by Uckfield’s lack of enthusiasm for his theory, Horton continued, ‘After helping Veerman to move the car Veerman tells his lover that they’d better cool off for a while until the heat of the investigation dies down. But the lover suspects she’s getting the bums rush and thinks sod it, he’s not going to get rid of me like that, after all I’ve done for him.’

  ‘You should write TV soap scripts,’ muttered Uckfield.

  Horton ignored the jibe and Dennings’ sneer. ‘She moves the car into her boyfriend’s car park, maybe not even knowing we’d make the connection, perhaps she thinks we’re thick, but Veerman will understand the implication of it.’

  ‘There’s no forensics on the car,’ Trueman interjected. ‘No blood and no recognizable fingerprints except for a few on the inside of the boot hatch that match Kenton’s. They’ve got a few hair samples, the colour of which match with Kenton, but we won’t get a DNA confirmation for a while yet. They’re hoping to get some prints from the foot pedals. But the car is so clean inside that it looks as though it’s been valeted.’

  ‘And outside?’

  ‘Salt on the bodywork, windscreen and windows and some traces of salt underneath and on the tyres.’

  ‘As if it was driven into the sea?’

  ‘No, parked close to it. They’re working on trying to get traces of grit and gravel from the tyres.’

  ‘A clean-up job then before being dumped in the car park.’

  Uckfield scratched his neck and studied Horton dubiously. ‘First Thelma Veerman is in league with her husband and now it’s a lover – make up your mind.’

  ‘The lover is more plausible given what Thelma Veerman told me about her husband and the fact she’d hired a private investigator. Brett Veerman might not even have driven the car to that area. He could have given Kenton’s keys to his lover on Friday with instructions to collect it from the Hamble and take it somewhere and dump it. Maybe she did and then changed her mind in the early hours of the morning after Veerman had told her they had to cool the relationship. When I told Veerman where the car had been found and questioned him about whether he still had his key fob on him he was remarkably cool. Perhaps too cool. There was no shock, bewilderment or anger.’ Horton recalled the intelligent, self-assured man. ‘Perhaps he’d had time to prepare his reaction because his lover had already told him what she’d done.’

  Dennings piped up. ‘Hang on, why did Brett Veerman wrap Kenton up in sail cloth and dump him on the shore?’

  ‘To hide forensic evidence, which could lead back to him and he thought the weight of the sail would drag the body down. He didn’t count on it being washed up on the shore.’

  But even as Horton said that he didn’t feel entirely comfortable. He was sure the body had been placed and that a clever man and a medical one such as Veerman wouldn’t make such a mistake. But then killers did make mistakes, thank God.

  Uckfield was still looking unconvinced. ‘But having a bit on the side wouldn’t necessarily damage his career.’

  ‘It would if she were a patient.’

  ‘He’s an eye surgeon, not a gynaecologist,’ Uckfield exclaimed.

  ‘Doesn’t make any difference, he’s still breaching ethical guidelines. If he tries to implicate her she’ll say she didn’t know that Veerman had killed Kenton. She was just asked to move Kenton’s car, but when she discovered on Friday night that her lover had killed Kenton, she was shocked and horrified. She’ll claim she was afraid and was forced into helping him. A good lawyer will make her story sound convincing. It’s his word against hers. And there’s no evidence to connect her with Veerman because before parking Kenton’s car at Admiralty Towers, she’s taken all Kenton’s surveillance equipment, his laptop and mobile phone and stashed it in her car. Perhaps Veerman told her to do that. But now she has something on Veerman that she can use to force him to divorce his wife, or so she thinks.’

  ‘Then he’ll kill her.’

  ‘Probably.’ Solemnly Horton added, ‘She’ll end up with a bolt in her heart. So if there is a woman involved we need to find her quickly, and that means we need a warrant to get information from the hospital about Veerman’s movements on Thursday night and Friday. They won’t give it to us without it. Cantelli’s tried.’ He didn’t mention they were using their own private resources to try and obtain it.

  Uckfield hauled himself up. ‘I’ll talk to the ACC in the morning.’

  Why not now, Horton thought, impatiently. But Uckfield was looking at his watch as though he was late for his meeting with Bliss. Horton wondered what the ACC would say, or rather what Eames would say after Dean or the Chief Constable reported back. Horton still thought the lover angle the strongest but he wasn’t ruling out the drugs scam or that the beachcomber could somehow be involved.

  Returning to CID he found Cantelli on the phone and Walters at his desk. Walters announced that he and PC Tina Collins had identified three possible suspects for the racist restaurant attacks, all with extreme right-wing views, all male and all Caucasian.

  ‘One’s in his twenties, the other two are in their mid to late forties,’ Walters said. ‘I’ve been trawling the Internet for
comments they’ve made on forums and social networks. The idiots often like to brag about what they’ve done. PC Collins is checking on their whereabouts, social security and employment backgrounds. We’ll talk to them tomorrow.’

  Horton nodded agreement.

  Walters added, ‘There’s nothing linking the restaurants with regards to employees, current or past, or suppliers.’

  Cantelli came off the phone. ‘None of the companies I’ve spoken to so far have given powerboat training to Jasper Kenton.’

  ‘Widen the area of search tomorrow. Check out those along the coast to Southampton and to Chichester.’

  Cantelli said he would write up the report from their visit to the marina and the hospital. Horton didn’t see any need to include one about his conversation with Gaye Clayton. In his office he rang Phil Taylor of SOCO to see if he’d got anything from the boat.

  ‘No evidence of blood,’ Taylor intoned in his usual mournful manner. ‘We’ve managed to lift a few clear prints.’ Which, Horton thought, would probably match Kenton’s. They would also need to get the prints of the man who had sold the boat to Kenton, and those of Rob Tuckerton who had helped Kenton refuel the boat. Horton asked Taylor to do that and send them over to the fingerprint bureau.

  ‘Sergeant Elkins is here and would like a word.’

  Horton waited while Taylor handed over his mobile phone.

  ‘The Border Agency hasn’t seen or stopped Bright Girl,’ Elkins reported. ‘Ripley’s spoken to a couple of boat owners in the marina but neither of them know or recognize Kenton or remember seeing his boat go out. The locksmith has managed to unlock the helm and I’ve checked the navigational charts. There are no journeys entered on it for the last three months, so if he took the boat out he didn’t use that. The last trip that was logged was to the Channel Islands and that was before Kenton purchased the boat on the nineteenth of September.’

  ‘How much fuel is in the tank?’

  ‘It’s half full. I’ll get on to the marinas on the island tomorrow.’

  Horton sat and contemplated the case. Was he wrong about Brett Veerman? Why was he so convinced he was their killer? He sighed and pushed thoughts of Veerman aside and turned to clearing his messages. He wondered if Tim Shearer would come back to him with information on Kenton. Trueman hadn’t mentioned that he had news from the legal fraternity or police in London of Kenton having appeared as an expert witness and he would have done if he’d got something. He was just impatient. And he was uncomfortable with this softly, softly approach of Uckfield’s. He was also uneasy about his own part in stifling progress in the investigation by his continuing silence about being at the scene the day before. He tried to console himself with the fact that it was still early in the investigation but the clock on this case was running extra slow and no one seemed keen to speed it up. He was almost tempted to suggest that they have someone tail Brett Veerman but he knew what the response to that would be. They didn’t have the manpower and ACC Dean would never sanction it. Perhaps they should hire a private detective, thought Horton wryly. Bliss?

  He rose and peered out of the window. There was no sign of Uckfield’s BMW so he must be with her now. Cantelli knocked and entered to say he was off home. Walters had already left. Horton rang Trueman and relayed what SOCO and Sergeant Elkins had said. Trueman would get their reports in due course.

  Replacing his phone, Horton wondered if he should call Mike Danby and ask him to meet for a drink. He had some questions to put to him about Kenton’s boat. Or perhaps he should call Gaye and ask her if she’d like that drink and meal tonight? It would be good to have company and especially hers, he thought, with that same sense of excited anticipation he’d experienced before. But despite that he found his mind flitting to Harriet Eames and cursed silently. He didn’t want to think of her, not in any relationship sense. She was history, just as Catherine and Thea Carlsson were. But thoughts of Thea brought him back to the abbey. God, he hadn’t even found out what kind of sentence those toe-rag thieves had been given. The courts had closed a long while ago and there was nothing on his email notifying him of the sentence. It was just on seven. He had Tim Shearer’s mobile number and rang him.

  ‘Sorry to call you so late.’

  ‘This is early,’ Shearer said pleasantly.

  ‘You’re still at work?’

  ‘Yes, like you I expect.’

  Horton asked if he knew what sentence Maidment and Foreland had received.

  ‘Two years custodial. They would have got more if they hadn’t changed their plea.’

  ‘Have you informed Brother Norman?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I’ll do it tomorrow.’ It would give him a reason to return to the island and while there he’d re-interview Thelma Veerman. He might be able to get more out of her about her husband and particularly his movements on Thursday night.

  Shearer said, ‘About Jasper Kenton, you asked if he’d been involved in any criminal prosecutions or been called as an expert witness in the courts. I can’t find any cases logged in London. Want me to check the Hampshire records?’

  ‘No, Trueman’s on to that.’

  Horton rang off. Maybe Uckfield now had that information from Bliss. Maybe it wasn’t relevant anyway. He had no need to pursue this case, not until told to do so. He had plenty of others that needed his attention. But he had a reason why he couldn’t let it drop. He had to find out before anyone else did if the beachcomber, Lomas, had anything to do with Kenton’s death, and God help him if he did.

  FIFTEEN

  Tuesday

  ‘Kenton never mentioned owning a boat and I’ve never seen him at the marina,’ Mike Danby said the next morning with genuine surprise when Horton told him what they had discovered the previous day. Horton had called him early and asked for a meeting. ‘I didn’t even know he liked boats.’

  ‘It seems to have been a well-kept secret,’ Horton said as they walked along the shore at Warsash where Danby had told Horton he had a meeting at the Superyacht Academy at nine. Across the River Hamble on their left, and ahead of them, Horton could see the yachts in Hamble Marina. Behind them was the Warsash Maritime Academy buildings, which provided a range of courses for the maritime industry, including training for crew for the growing number of superyachts around the world. Horton knew that Danby had picked up several clients from there. He thought Danby was probably about to pick up another one.

  ‘Kenton was close-mouthed, but then you’ve got to be in this business,’ Danby added. ‘Is his boat at the marina now?’

  Horton saw no reason to avoid answering the question. Danby could easily check. He nodded. He could see Danby’s sharp brain quickly assimilating this information.

  ‘You’re wondering if Kenton could have crossed to the island on his boat with his killer who then returned it to the marina.’

  ‘It’s a possibility.’

  ‘Still fancy this Brett Veerman you mentioned earlier?’

  ‘Haven’t ruled him out yet. He lives on the island, can sail a boat, and he’s a member of the same yacht club as Eames.’

  ‘Doesn’t mean a thing. It could just be a coincidence that the body was put on Richard’s shore. Maybe the killer just wanted a quiet place to dump it.’ He eyed Horton steadily. ‘But I can understand why you’re making the connection. I’d be following it up if I were running the case.’

  Pity Uckfield didn’t think that, unless he had returned from his meeting with Dean with authorization to formally question Veerman and his colleagues and staff.

  ‘What did Kenton’s clients think of him? You must have got some feedback from those he referred to you,’ Horton said.

  ‘The same as we all thought of him. Clever, discreet, thorough.’

  Horton threw Danby a curious glance. There was more here, he was sure of it. He didn’t think that Danby was deliberately holding back information; rather that he was asking the wrong questions. Only he didn’t know the right questions to ask.

  ‘You said you met K
enton and Swallows at a security conference. Did they approach you or did you approach them?’

  ‘They approached me, or rather Jasper did. It was during the lunch break. Kenton said that as we were based in the same geographical area perhaps there would be opportunities to work together. He already knew a lot about me and my company but this was day three of the conference so he’d had time to look me up on the Internet. I told you he was thorough.’

  Not so thorough that he didn’t enrol on a powerboat training course, unless Cantelli discovered otherwise today. ‘And you conducted a search on him.’

  ‘Of course. And I did one on Eunice Swallows before our first meeting to discuss how we could work together. Both had excellent references. Kenton especially.’

  ‘From his former employers.’

  ‘Yes, and from clients. There’s nothing there, Andy. Kenton’s as honest and clean as they come.’

  ‘No one’s that honest or clean,’ muttered Horton, thinking of his deception regarding the beachcomber.

  ‘You’re right, of course.’ Danby’s green eyes studied Horton closely. Horton held them unflinchingly before Danby continued, ‘But Kenton was one of those principled people, very straightforward and reliable.’ Then he paused before adding, concerned, ‘Have you found anything to indicate otherwise?’

  ‘No, but we’re looking. Was he ever involved in any prosecutions? Trueman’s checking of course,’ Horton hastily added. ‘But—’

  ‘You thought you’d take a shortcut and see if I’d picked up any gossip. I’d be doing the same myself if I were in your shoes.’

  Horton’s sensitive ears twitched at the slight emphasis on the word ‘your’, making him wonder if Danby knew about the beachcomber, and the fact he’d kept silent about it. They walked on.

  Danby continued, ‘You’re looking into the possibility that someone Kenton testified against could have sought revenge. It’s one scenario, except that, as far as I’m aware, Kenton has never appeared in the witness box.’