Eleven

'Would you like a tasting?' Jennings asked as he showed them into the large airy vaulted warehouse to the right of the U-shaped building. It was stacked with racks of wine, cardboard boxes with the company name imprinted on them, and two long, large bench tables in the middle of the room, with a few stools beside them. Jennings was a slender man in his mid-fifties with a round open face that suited his baldness.

'On duty,' answered Horton. He didn't drink and, although he suspected Cantelli would have loved an Italian Roca, he would have declined on account of driving and the seasickness pills.

'You have good security,' Cantelli said, nodding at the steel shutters above the long wide windows that faced on to the car park. Horton had also noted the infra-red security devices in the corridor.

'Some of these wines are extremely valuable. We've never had a burglary but there's always a first time.'

'We haven't had wine thefts in Portsmouth. At least not on this scale,' Cantelli quickly amended. 'Only the occasional bottle of plonk and spirits taken from the off licence or supermarket. Perhaps that's because there aren't expensive wines on any Portsmouth premises to steal.'

'Or the villains don't know about them. It takes a discerning burglar to know which vintage to steal. Unless he or she is just lucky, which would be a shame because they wouldn't realize the value and would flog it from a car park at the back of the pub, or guzzle it without appreciating it.' He winced as if the thought pained him.

'They'd probably turn their nose up at it, preferring some cheap plonk,' Cantelli said, not entirely joking. Knowing some of their clientele, Horton thought that likely.

He said, 'Do you keep all your stock here?'

'No. Different wines need different conditions, some much cooler than we can provide. Charles and Shirley have a cellar in their house which is the one you can see behind the barns. They've also got a state-of-the-art security system. As I said, we hope it's never put to the test but with wine being an investment you can never be certain.'

'How does the investment part work?' asked Horton. Halliwell's interests were certainly throwing up some curious questions, and Horton's mind was working to put some meat on the bones of what he was learning, which made him think of the corpse. How did the landslip corpse fit into all this? Perhaps Halliwell had acquired the wine crookedly and the landslip corpse knew this and had threatened to expose Halliwell. Or perhaps he'd been a partner in crime. Alternatively, he could have been investigating Halliwell. He could even have come from abroad where Halliwell had lived and had traced him to the Isle of Wight.

'Investing in wines is not new,' Jennings said, pleased to display his knowledge. 'The serious wine buyers have always bought more than they needed, laying them down to drink at a later date and, if they didn't drink them, they'd sell them off. But wine investment became global in the mid-1990s, when buyers from the Far East came into the market. Up until then the best wines from Bordeaux were destined for Europe and North America.'

'We've seen Mr Nansen's valuation of Mr Halliwell's cellar, it seems a highly lucrative investment.'

'It can be. Like any other investment though it can fluctuate. Generally speaking the wine market has done fairly well. It's resilient. Fine wine is a tangible asset, and for some investors it's more accessible and enjoyable than gold and art. It's also much more transferable than shares. It's a long-term investment. You're buying for ten to twenty years, possibly more. Storing the wine correctly is also important. Sorry, you've got me on my hobby horse.' He smiled.

'No, do go on. It's all valuable information,' Horton said. This meant Halliwell must have been known in wine circles and therefore they'd get more information about him.

'Well, firstly it should be under bond to avoid paying taxes, and secondly, provenance is key to a wine's future value.'

Which Halliwell hadn't had. So perhaps he didn't care about the value, thought Horton. Or hadn't viewed it as an investment but as something he took pleasure in owning and drinking. Or, as Nansen had intimated, acquired it in a dubious way.

'Bordeaux will always be the backbone of a good investment,' Jennings was saying, 'but there are other wines that come up to the mark; Super Tuscans, Champagne and Burgundy for example. And, in Mr Halliwell's collection, as you've seen from the inventory, there are two bottles of one of the most coveted and expensive French pinot noirs that exist, the Domaine de la Romanée-Conti.'

'Mr Nansen told us about it, but he didn't say why it was so special.'

'How long have you got?' Jennings joked. 'I'll put it simply,' he continued with a smile. 'Firstly, the 1978 is incredibly hard to find. Let me explain,' he added, possibly to their baffled expressions, or possibly because he was on his pet subject. It was clear to Horton that Jennings was far more passionate about his wine than Nansen.

'Bordeaux's great châteaux make several thousand bottles of wine a year. Château Pétrus, one of the smallest and most prized, produces thirty thousand bottles a year, while Lafite Rothschild produces about twenty thousand cases. Compare that to four hundred and fifty cases for DRC's Romanée-Conti from the tiny single vineyard of just over four acres, and that makes them scarce, a big factor in their price. Put that with the fact that Asian collectors have an insatiable appetite for Burgundy, and the price goes up. Then there is the unrivalled quality. It's praised for its silkiness and balance and, because of the region's unique soil and geology, each vineyard produces a wholly unique taste and style. As the wines age, burgundies develop a special "earthiness".'

'Have you ever tasted it?' asked Cantelli.

'Once. Sublime. Only the wealthiest collectors in the world can afford Domaine de la Romanée-Conti, which makes it even more curious that Charles discovered two bottles of it in Mr Halliwell's cellar. Of course, I don't know how wealthy he was. Those two bottles might have formed part of a much larger investment, which he brought with him when he moved to the island. Or he might have been given them by an exceedingly generous person as there was no paperwork.'

And by Jennings' tone and look, Horton could see he had formed his own ideas about how it might have been acquired. He put to him the same question he'd asked Nansen.

'Could the bottles have been stolen?'

Jennings frowned and sniffed as he considered his response. 'It's possible, but he didn't strike me as the type to have bought stolen goods. I could be wrong. I only met him twice. Once when he came here, and once when he opened the door of Beachwood House and took delivery of his order. He was friendly and knowledgeable. There was nothing stuck up about him.'

'Did you go inside the house?'

'Only stepped inside the hall. Impressive snooker table. I wouldn't have minded a game on that. Mr Halliwell asked me to leave the wine just inside the door. I did, and then left.'

'So you didn't see anyone else there?'

'Or get an impression of someone else in the house?'

Jennings shook his head.

'Did the interior surprise you?'

'No, the exterior did. From my initial meeting with Mr Halliwell, I could tell he had good taste and wealth but when I drove up to the house, I wondered if I'd gone to the wrong address, or if Mr Halliwell was a phoney. Seeing that hall, I realized he didn't like to parade his wealth to the outside world. Not that anyone could see the house, tucked away as it is, and I can't imagine any burglars would bother to scout that area, but then you never know.'

Horton was interested in Jennings' perspective.

Cantelli said, 'How do you get new customers?'

'Mainly through word of mouth recommendations. The website brings in a few. Charles and Alex attend various trade shows and events.'

'And your background?'

Jennings smiled. 'Raised in a pub, here on the island. Worked in a few on the mainland, then in a succession of restaurants and hotels in London, the Cotswolds and Edinburgh, learning my trade as I went and then putting myself through various courses. Not like Charles who has a BA Hons Wine Business Degree and is a Member of the Institute Masters of Wine, as is Alec. We've all had extensive wine training both in the UK, Italy and France.'

Jennings' phone pinged. Checking it he said, 'I'm sorry, I've got to call someone.'

'That's OK, we've finished anyway.'

'I'll take you back to Charles.' As they set off down the corridor, Jennings said, 'There is one thing that I thought a little unusual. Of course, it probably doesn't mean anything but someone asked if we had or could get hold of any Domaine de la Romanée-Conti, and that's the first time, as far as we are all aware, it's ever happened.'

Horton's interest heightened. 'Who was it?'

'A man called George Caws. He left a mobile number, but when Charles called him after he'd valued Mr Halliwell's wine cellar to say that we had come across a couple of bottles that would go to auction, the number was dead.'

'When was this?' Horton asked, disguising his keen interest. Coincidence? Somehow, he felt not.

'January. He said he had been recommended by someone on the island, but he didn't say who, leastways not to me.'

But perhaps he had to Charles Nansen. And Nansen hadn't mentioned this to them. Why hadn't he? 'Can you describe him?'

'I only saw him leaving, and that's when Charles told me he'd asked about the Domaine de la Romanée-Conti. He was about five eleven, early sixties, maybe younger. It's hard to put an age on some people. He was thin. He got into a dark blue Ford.'

Horton thanked him and as Jennings departed, Nansen was waiting for them with the date of Halliwell's purchases and the list of wines. It had been 10 January, nine days before he had asked Chilcott to draw up his will. As Nansen had said the wine purchases were substantial and expensive, but nothing in the league of the Domaine de la Romanée-Conti.

Handing the list to Cantelli, Horton addressed Nansen at the door, 'Mr Jennings told us you had a visit from a man called George Caws in January asking about Domaine de la Romanée-Conti.'

'Well, yes.' Nansen scratched his beard and shifted.

'I don't remember exactly.'

'Would it be in your diary?' Cantelli prompted.

Nansen consulted his phone, although he did so reluctantly. 'It was the 14 January.'

'I believe you tried to contact him after you valued Mr Halliwell's cellar to say a couple of bottles might be coming up for auction.'

Nansen flushed to the roots of his beard. 'I thought he might be interested, but the number he gave me was dead.'

'Why did he come here to enquire about such a rare wine?'

Nansen's flush deepened. 'Why shouldn't he? We do have a reputation, Inspector.'

'Of course,' Horton mollified. 'Did he say where he had come from? Or where he lived?'

'No. I only took his telephone number. He was a knowledgeable and pleasant man.'

'I'm sure he was, sir. Can you describe him?'

Nansen gave the same description as Jennings adding that Caws had been dressed in trousers, an open neck shirt and suit jacket. And no, he didn't notice his shoes.

'Any accent?' asked Cantelli.

'Not that I could hear. We talked about wine and wine connoisseurs.' Nansen stalled. Horton knew why. He helped him out.

'And you reassured Mr Caws that you dealt with a number of well to do and wealthy clients on the island, including Cedric Halliwell, and he was deeply interested in him.'

Nansen looked downcast. 'It was foolish of me, I know, but Mr Caws was highly…' he struggled to find the word.

'Plausible,' furnished Cantelli.

'What other names did you give him?' Horton asked.

Nansen was beginning to look wretched. He did a lot of beard plucking before speaking reluctantly, 'Only one other name, and only because we spoke specifically about the Domaine de la Romanée-Conti. There's only one other customer of ours on the island who has that wine in his cellar.'

'I wouldn't want him to think we tell all and sundry what he has in his cellar.'

No, thought Horton, it wouldn't do much for the company's reputation. 'The name please, Mr Nansen.'

Nansen sighed heavily; the dog whimpered. 'Viscount Lord Richard Eames.'

Horton should have guessed. Eames could afford such an exclusive wine. 'Did you talk about anything else?' he asked Nansen.

'No, just wines, our favourites, and those that were a worthwhile investment.'

'How long was Mr Caws here for?'

'About forty minutes, maybe a little more.'

'If you still have that telephone number?'

Nansen scrolled through his mobile until he found the number and relayed it to them. Cantelli wrote it down.

'You won't have to speak to Lord Eames, will you?' Nansen asked worried.

'Not if it's not relevant,' Horton said, but maybe he would enquire, just to see Eames again, although he doubted he would be at his island home at the moment, it not being August. And he had no evidence to confront him with regarding Jennifer.

Departing Wight Barn Wines they left an anxious Charles Nansen behind them. Heading back towards the main road, Cantelli said, 'This George Caws is interesting. Could he be the landslip corpse? He tracked Halliwell down and threatened to expose him as a crook unless he paid up. Halliwell kills and buries him and then takes off on his boat and dies in the cold sea mist.'

Those had been Horton's thoughts, and he said as much.

Cantelli added, 'Caws and Halliwell could have been up to the same game as Nigel Tamar. You remember him?'

'How can I forget? Convicted of wine fraud, out on bail, and absconded before sentencing. He was selling fake vintage wine, slapping labels of expensive wines on bottles which contained good old Pompey plonk.'

'Maybe Caws was in league with Nansen. We've only got Jennings' and Nansen's word that the mobile number this George Caws gave them was dead. Nansen told Jennings that. Maybe it wasn't a dead line.'

'Pull over when you can and try it.'

Cantelli did with the same result. He indicated out into the road again and resumed his theories. 'What if there were more than two bottles of this expensive wine in Halliwell's cellar which were never going to see their way onto the valuation list? There could have been three, four or more. Nansen contacted Caws to sell to him privately, which was why he looked so uncomfortable when we questioned him about Caws. Maybe he did get hold of Caws who has taken off after buying the wine. Or perhaps Chilcott did a deal with Nansen, helping himself to a bottle or two while Nansen took another few before drawing up the list.'

'It's possible,' Horton mused. 'Those bottles of wine in that amazing cellar, which you will see shortly, came from somewhere. Someone transported them there, and that someone could be the company who built the cellar. They will have a list of what they shipped.'

'But even if that list doesn't tally with Nansen's that doesn't mean either he or Chilcott helped themselves. Halliwell could have drunk a few bottles in between times.'

Cantelli was right. 'We need to find this George Caws. Turn off for Bonchurch, Barney. While we're on this side of the island I'd like to see if we can have a word with the woman who discovered Ben's body, Carina Musgrove.'

Horton had got her name from Sergeant Norris and had read the statement she had made which confirmed what both Norris and Elkins had told him. There was probably little she could add to her statement; she had only visited that bay twice and long after both Halliwell and the landslip corpse had died. But he thought it worth talking to her.

There was no answer though when Horton knocked on the door of the end house in a small row of stone terraced cottages, which faced the isolated part of a promenade, culminating in a stony shore. There was no one around to ask either. To the side of the cottage, resting on the shingle, was a boat trailer but no sign of any boat. Horton had Carina Musgrove's mobile number and, although he could call her to arrange a meeting, he decided to postpone it for the time being.

As Cantelli made for Beachwood House, Horton called Uckfield and gave him a succinct account of what they had learned. Uckfield said they'd see what, if anything, they could find on George Caws. Horton didn't think it would be much because he suspected Caws was an alias. Uckfield also said Trueman would call him back when he had details of the architect, Gary Redcar, who had remodelled Beachwood House. Horton wondered if he might be based locally on the island. If so, there was a chance he and Cantelli would be able to talk to him that day. Next, he rang Bliss and was glad when he got her voicemail as it saved him having to answer her questions. Leaving a brief update, he ended by saying that he had reported back to Uckfield.

'She's probably trying to find the chief's arsonist herself, so she can get extra brownie points,' Cantelli said.

'Knowing her as we do, she's probably giving Mark Leonard a hard time. I bet this is one occasion when Walters is glad he's in court and hopes the case will go on all day, several days.' He tried Walters' mobile number but got his voice mail. That didn't mean he was still in court. Knowing Walters he could be in the local pub or café pursuing one of his hobbies – eating. 'I'd better see that Leonard hasn't done anything stupid like pushing Bliss in the harbour.'

'I think she'd be the one to do the pushing. She came top in her class at self-defence. She's a judo and karate expert as well as being a top marksman, sorry markswoman.'

'You're making this up.'

'I'm not. Sergeant Warren told me, and he heard it from –'

'I believe you. There's no denying she's heading for the top,' Horton said as he rang Leonard. 'And she'll get there. Not like us, Barney, we'll remain lowly detectives.'

'You speak for yourself. I might make Super yet.'

Horton smiled. He was certain he wouldn't, and he knew Cantelli didn't want it. Leonard answered swiftly and with a note of relief in his voice. Horton knew the reason for that. Bliss.

'I've checked with the Queens Harbour Master and there are no reports of irregular boat movements in the harbour around that area two hours before or after the fire,' Leonard said. 'But it could have been a small boat that wasn't picked up on the radar. I've ruled out the arsonists who have been released from prison as possible suspects. They both have cast iron alibis. One of them had been picked up by Havant police and had spent the night in the cells, and the other is in hospital having stolen a car and crashed it into a lamppost. I'm re-interviewing the club secretary, seeing what gossip I can pick up, and I'm visiting the businesses and other clubs in the area. There's an army cadet school close by, although, as you know, Andy, the area's pretty isolated, but someone might have seen a suspicious looking vehicle or person casing the joint before the fire, travelling up and down that road or parked close by for some period of time. Watch Manager Greg Hammond is liaising with the lab over the fragments of glass and rags we found, and he's taking another look around in case we missed anything, which, as DCI Bliss has reminded me at least four times this morning, we must have done.'

Horton could well imagine. He rang off and managed to speak to Sergeant Norris before the signal gave out as Cantelli swung into the lane that led to Beachwood House. Horton asked Norris to instigate enquiries with the taxi companies on the island to find out who had taken Halliwell to Wight Barn Wines on 10 January, and if any of them had taken George Caws there on 14 January in a dark blue Ford.