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considering them at length on his run last night, and while he'd tossed and turned in his bunk listening to an avenging wind screech and howl through the masts. He'd reread the missing person's file on his mother, thanking God it hadn't been lost in the fire that had consumed Nutmeg , his previous boat. But there was nothing in Irene Ebury's statement that hinted why his mother had disappeared and no mention of her son, Peter. Horton hadn't really expected it, but it had been worth checking.
      Carefully he had stowed it away under one of the bunks, thinking that he really ought to remove it to his office where it might be safer. And he should also think about getting another boat of his own, instead of living on this borrowed one. Maybe during his holiday he'd start looking for one. But that thought brought him back to his questions because he didn't much fancy sailing away without some answers to them.
      He had just finished telling Cantelli about Bliss's sudden departure when there was a knock on his office door and he found himself looking into the deep brown eyes and oval face of an attractive, slender Chinese woman in her early thirties.
      'DC Harriet Lee, sir,' she said crisply, dashing a smile at Cantelli.
      Horton approved of her black tailored trousers and flat shoes. This was no job for stilettos and a skirt. But had she chosen to wear a red sailing jacket because she knew his passion for the pursuit or was that just him being a cynical, suspicious cop with an overactive imagination?
      He waved her into the seat next to Cantelli, making the introduction, unable to shake off this uncomfortable feeling that she was here for a reason, which wasn't to help them out. She returned Cantelli's smile with, Horton thought, genuine warmth.
      'Mind if I take my jacket off, guv?' she said.
      Her accent wasn't local. There was a slight sing-song element to it and he guessed that she was originally from the north of England.
      'You sail?' he asked, as she shrugged out of the jacket, gathering up her sleek raven hair in one hand and pushing it behind her.
      'When I can.'
      Cantelli shuddered.
      'What's the matter, Sarge? Don't you like the sea?' she asked brightly.
      Despite his readiness to distrust and maybe even dislike her, Horton couldn't help approving of her directness and her cheerful manner.
      'Give me dry land any day.'
      'You've got no soul, Sarge,' she teased.
      'Oh, yes, I have, but mine's strictly earthbound.'
      She laughed and Cantelli beamed at her.
      She'd quickly got the measure of Cantelli, Horton concluded. Was that because she'd been briefed? If so, what had her boss told her about him? And who was her boss? He certainly didn't think it was him.
      'Where's DC Walters?' he asked, wondering what Lee would make of the lumbering detective. Walters hadn't returned from the Rest Haven by the time Horton had left the station late last night.
      'He's probably in the canteen,' Cantelli answered.
      'Find him, and ask what he found out from the night staff.' Once his office door was shut, Horton addressed Lee. 'Have you worked in Portsmouth before?'
      'Not worked, no, but I know the area. I often come down to race off Hayling Island.'
      'You're a member of the sailing club?'
      'Look, I'm sorry if I've been foisted on you, guv, but I needed to get back into investigations. I got sick of pushing paper around a desk at headquarters. I've had a bit of a personal problem too – relationship fall-out with a guy I worked with. Nothing I can't handle, but I wanted a change. I'm applying to come back operational as soon as there's a position. My governor knows Superintendent Reine and he said you were short-staffed, so here I am.'
      Horton nodded. 'And your governor is?'
      'Superintendent Warren.'
      She said it without hesitation and without any hint that it wasn't true. Horton hadn't heard of him, but he could check her story.
      'Glad to have your