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beginning to think Russell Glenn must have offered you a job as a security officer on his superyacht,’ Horton grumbled.
    ‘He’s already got one, with muscles like Schwarzenegger.’
    ‘A broad-shouldered man with cropped hair.’
    ‘Yeah, how do you know that?’
    ‘I know a lot of things, Walters, like you’re eating your way through a packet of Hobnobs.’
    Walters swallowed noisily. ‘That boat’s bloody huge, Guv. And it’s got this state of the art security system that would make the scum cry.’
    ‘I’m glad to hear it.’
    ‘Infra sensors in every room—’
    ‘Cabin,’ corrected Horton.
    ‘Yeah, and a GPS locator and notification system, which can raise the alarm by all means known to mankind. It’s got an ignition immobilizer security alarm, as well as a marine security system alarm with a siren for every cabin, which is broadcast so loud that everyone will think the three minute warning’s gone off, or so Schwarzenegger claims.’
    ‘And his real name?’
    ‘Lloyd.’
    ‘First or surname?’
    ‘Dunno. Just said he was called Lloyd.’
    Horton sighed. How Walters had got to be a DC was a mystery to them all. ‘Well let’s hope he never has to put it to the test; on my patch at least,’ Horton added, thinking that with the increase in pirate attacks on superyachts and commercial shipping in other less friendly waters Glenn probably needed all the security he could afford, and that was clearly a great deal.
    Walters said that the press had been on asking for a statement about the body recovered from the sea. Cantelli could deal with it when he returned. He asked Walters to check for reports of missing men since Wednesday, then tried Bliss’s line with the same result as before, getting her voicemail. He hung up without leaving a message. He’d be back at the station soon.
    Cantelli dropped him outside the marina office where Horton asked the manager if he or any of the staff knew anything about the muddy blue van parked there that morning. No one claimed even to have seen it, but when the manager checked the CCTV footage on Horton’s request there it was. It was difficult though to make out the registration number or any occupants, and no one alighted from it, which worried Horton. He headed back to the station with a copy of the footage after leaving instructions he was to be called if anyone saw the van in the marina. He wondered if the CCTV camera at the front of Adrian Stanley’s apartments might have picked up a sighting of it, but then he remembered that the camera was only focused on the gated entrance and front door and not on the promenade.
    Bliss’s car was in its allotted spot and Horton hoped he’d be able to get to his office without her accosting him. He stopped off in the canteen realizing it had been some time since he’d last eaten and was paying for his sandwiches when Cantelli appeared.
    ‘A young woman’s just come in to report her father, Colin Yately, has been missing since Thursday. She heard about the body being found on the news, they didn’t give out the gender, and she’s concerned it could be him,’ he said excitedly.
    ‘And?’ Horton asked knowing there was more by Cantelli’s expression.
    ‘She’s the girl in the key fob.’

THREE
    H annah Yately looked up from her plastic cup of tea with a worried frown on her attractive dark features. Her chocolate-brown eyes swivelled between them and must have read something in their expression because her face paled and tears welled up. She was accompanied by a man in his early thirties and both were dressed in the black-suited uniform of the hotel across the road from the station. Even before the man introduced himself as Damien King, Horton saw it on his name badge.
    ‘It’s Dad, isn’t it? That body in the sea,’ she stammered. The man beside her squeezed her hand and turned an anxious expression on them.
    This was the part of the job Horton hated the most, breaking the bad news to relatives, if