The Secret Dawn

by Solomon Carter

  “If you are facing any problems, sir. Personal, professional, or otherwise… I just wanted to say that I am willing to help in any way I can.”

  Pinpricks of light shone from Melford’s hard dark eyes.

  “I think your instincts might be letting you down on this occasion, Inspector,” said Melford, quietly.

  Hogarth nodded and paused. And he tried again.

  “Is Eleanor alright?”

  Melford shifted in his chair. His voice rose higher by a degree or two. “My wife? Why would you ask me that?”

  “Because it’s polite, sir. And because you do seem stressed.”

  “Leave it, Hogarth. Leave it well alone.”

  “I’m trying to help, sir.”

  “I said leave it,” said Melford. “You listen to me, and you tell all the rest of those jokers the same out there. I’m doing fine. I’m going about my work as I always have and I won’t have my professionalism questioned by you or any other man on the force! Do you hear me?”

  “Glasson. Sir… the name Glasson. Does that ring any bells? He could be someone who might be causing you some stress…”

  Words on the shred of paper in his pocket. Call Eleanor. Glasson will follow. Hogarth’s heart began to beat harder.

  Words… names detached from their original meaning, torn from the notepad. And because most of the meaning was stuck inside Melford’s head. He saw the dread in Melford’s eyes.

  “Glasson? What?” Melford’s jowls shook above his shirt collar. His eyes flashed wide. “How dare you?!”

  “Sir, I—”

  “Don’t you dare sir me!” said Melford. He reached down to his desk drawer and yanked it open. He pulled out a lined reporter pad, and flicked wildly at the pages, snatching one over the other until he found the page he wanted. He slapped the pad down on the desk and his finger landed on a crumpled, torn half sheet. The rest of the note had been torn away.

  “It was you, Hogarth. You took this.”

  Melford stared deep and hard into Hogarth’s eyes. Hogarth didn’t back down. He kept his face blank, his eyes even. Melford was still quivering with anger.

  “How dare you?”

  “Something’s not right here, sir. I’m trying to start a conversation. That’s all.”

  Hogarth watched Melford’s Adam’s apple bob up and down in his throat.

  “You are beyond the pale,” said Melford. “Now I know you don’t give a fig for authority. And I know you certainly don’t have any respect for me. But by Gad, you’d better take me seriously now. Don’t you ever, ever, dare come into this room again unless I am present and invite you in. And don’t you dare meddle in what doesn’t concern you. One of these days, Hogarth, there’ll be consequences.”

  “Excuse me, sir, but that sounded a little like a threat.”

  Melford sneered and shook his head. “You want the Grant Dawn investigation? Fine. I’ll make sure you get it. But from now on I’ll want to see results every single day. Real quantifiable progress. You’re making my life difficult, Hogarth, so you can be damned sure I’ll make yours harder too. There. You’ve got the case. Happy now? Now get stuck into your police work – and keep your nose out of my business.”

  Hogarth gave a curt bow of his head. “Sir. My offer to help remains.”

  “Your offer stinks. And it’s declined. Now get out! And remember, don’t meddle in my affairs ever again.”

  Hogarth arched an eyebrow as he turned for the door. He took the handle and cast an eye back at the seething DCI.

  “Fine. I won’t meddle, sir. So long as it doesn’t concern me.”

  Hogarth walked out and closed the door. Melford dragged a hand down his face and shut his eyes. Outside in the corridor, Hogarth paused for breath.

  As soon as he walked into the CID room, the look on Palmer’s face made him want to turn around and walk out again. But he’d already closed the door behind him. There would be no easy escape. Palmer’s eyes were wide with disbelief.

  “Guv. How exactly are you going to get out of this one?”

  “What one?” he said.

  “You’ve gotten involved with a live case, and already know the victim isn’t dead. Does anyone else know?”

  “That’s yet to be determined. The whole thing could be part of a bloody scam. But if it is, we’ll be onto the man before he knows it.”

  “But it’s not even your case, guv. You could compromise the investigation unless you declare what you know.”

  “Fine. I’ll declare it.”

  Simmons shook his head. “What?”

  Hogarth nodded. “I’ll declare it to myself. I’ll call PC Heybridge and let him know I’ve just been assigned as SIO on this one. That means our troubles could be over. A little bit of manoeuvring on my part might just have saved our skins.”

  Palmer shook her head. “Unless this Heybridge works out you knew something.”

  “He won’t. A wise PC always defers to the man in charge.”

  “Then let’s hope he’s wise, eh?” said Palmer.

  “He can’t be any less wise than Simmons here, can he?”

  Simmons grunted and stood up. “That does it. I’m going home. This is supposed to be my day off.”

  “Hey! My designated driver can’t just up sticks and bolt whenever he likes.”

  “Try me. The key words were ‘day off’, guv,” said Simmons. “Besides, I think you’ve found another volunteer now.”

  Simmons grinned at Palmer before he walked out. “See you soon.”

  “Keep your phone on, Simmons!” called Hogarth. “This case is more yours than mine, remember.” His words trailed after Simmons as the office door clicked shut behind him.

  “I don’t know how you do it,” said Palmer.

  “Trouble is, Sue, neither do I. But at least we’ve got the case.”

  “After you nearly banjaxed the whole thing.”

  “Whatever. It’s still in the bag.” Hogarth picked up his desk phone and looked at the tatty sheet of telephone numbers pinned to the wall above it. He picked a number and frowned at Palmer.

  “What did you really come in here for today, Sue?” he said.

  “What do you mean, guv?” she said.

  “That Atacan stuff. Were you serious?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” she said.

  “I don’t know. Just a feeling. But if you were serious about that, stop it now. If it ain’t broke don’t fix it. Dev Atacan’s gone to ground. And that’s good enough for me.”

  Hogarth dialled the number for Heybridge’s outpost with the Castle Point and Rochford division. It went to voicemail.

  “PC Heybridge. This is Detective Inspector Hogarth, Southend CID. I’m going to be assigned as your SIO for the Grant Dawn incident at Paglesham. I look forward to reviewing what you’ve got so far. Drop me a line soon as you can.”

  As Hogarth recited his mobile number for the voicemail, Palmer glanced at her handbag and saw a police job application form she had tucked into her handbag was sticking out. The familiar application form logos could be seen between the folds. She shoved the sheets down deep into the bag and sat up with a self-conscious jerk as Hogarth finished his call.

  “There. Job done,” said Hogarth.

  Palmer looked at him and waited.

  “Simmons gave you the low down on the suspects, I take it?” he said.

  “The wife, the employees; yes, pretty much.”

  “Good. Then our first step is to look at a man called, Brett Reville. He runs the business for Grant Dawn. I heard him talking to someone outside the Dawn house and he sounds like a prize one.”

  “Guv… It’s Saturday afternoon. If Heybridge is out of contact, it probably means the case can wait another day.”

  “But you and I know that justice can’t wait, can it, Sue?” Hogarth sighed wearily, the residue of Melford’s latest rollicking still oozing through his mind. He shook his head and gazed at the coffee stains on the carpet.

  “Need a coffee, guv?”


  “No. I think I’ll need something a little stronger than that. Like you said, it’s Saturday after all. Come on, designated driver. I think I can handle another half while we consider the suspects.”

  “But haven’t you just been down the Naval Club?”

  “Yes. And after my chat with Melford, I’m tempted to go straight back.”

  “No thanks,” said Palmer.

  “Fine. The bar across the street it is.”

  Palmer eyed the application form in her bag and pressed it down further still. She picked up her handbag, hung it over her shoulder and they left the office.

  During the working week the bar was usually overrun with police and courthouse functionaries, but come Saturday the courthouse was shut, the office admin teams were stripped to the bone, and the local businesses were empty. Which meant that the bar opposite the police station was all but empty. Hogarth asked for a pint, not a half and Palmer asked the depressed-looking landlord why he’d bothered to open. The man shrugged. “Some of the locals come in for the football. Not today mind. Today it’s just me and you two. Just my luck.” The man brought Palmer the drinks then shuffled away to fold his arms in front of the football on the big screen. Palmer brought Hogarth his pint and found him leaning deep into the corner of a booth table, his arms splayed out across either side, like a man who had had a little too much already. But Palmer suspected Hogarth was capable of drinking copious amounts of hard liquor. Whatever bothered him, it wasn’t the booze. Hogarth found Palmer inspecting his face. He smiled at the sight of the pint in a fancy glass.

  “Beer served in a vase. Who can beat it?” he took the beer and quaffed a quarter down in one, leaving a trace of foam on his lip. He wiped his mouth as Palmer sipped a vodka soda.

  “Not on the raki then?” said Hogarth.

  “I doubt he even serves it here.”

  “I dunno. Ask him. He’ll find you one, stick it in a glass like a test-tube and charge you six quid for the privilege. I’m onto this guy already.”

  Palmer fussed with her handbag, making sure it was zipped and clasped shut.

  “What’s up with you?” he said.

  “Nothing much,” she said.

  “Sounds like something,” said Hogarth.

  “My ups and downs are nothing special. Just the usual day to day stuff”

  Hogarth wasn’t convinced. He left his eyes on Palmer’s, waiting for the truth.

  “I was wondering if I was getting a little ground down working around here, that’s all.”

  “Ground down? What? Not by me, I hope,” said Hogarth.

  Palmer crumpled her lips. “Not really.”

  “That’s a yes then.”

  “No. It’s me, guv.”

  “Here we go. That sounds like every time I’ve ever been dumped, and we’re not even dating.” He sipped his beer. A hint of a blush graced Palmer’s cheeks, but Hogarth didn’t see it. By the time he looked back at her, Palmer had righted herself again. He looked at her. She was in her late thirties, still pretty, and had big, earnest blue eyes, though she was a little too serious, and a little washed out. All of that was the job, of course. But she still looked a decent catch for some guy – if he got her before the job snuffed her out altogether. Hogarth smacked his lips and put his pint down. Palmer had noticed him looking.

  “What?” said Palmer.

  “Nothing,” lied Hogarth. “I thought you were about to dump me, that’s all. Orcun Sen plies you with exotic booze and you run off without even giving the man a kiss. So you tell me.”

  “That was true! I had nothing to do with him beyond a moment’s chemistry.”

  “A lot can happen in a moment,” said Hogarth.

  “But nothing did,” said Palmer.

  “And now it sounds like you’re going to dump me off too. Who’s next?”

  “No one’s getting dumped.”

  “So you’re not thinking about leaving?” he asked, putting her on the back foot. Palmer floundered for a second. Then she lied.

  “No, not at all. Speaking of relationships… how’s it working out with Liv Burns? If I’m being too nosy, just tell me to mind my own business.”

  “Liv? Working out might be overstating it a tad. We had a weekend together, but we didn’t even get to the holding hands stage until she boarded the train. It was hardly nine and a half weeks.”

  “Excuse me?” said Palmer, looking blank.

  “Kim Bassinger. It’s a steamy movie. Probably before your time.”

  Palmer held back a smirk.

  “What?” he said.

  “Hard to think of you as the romantic lead in any movie. You’re not exactly the Richard Gere type.”

  “It was Mickey Rourke, thank you very much. But no, I’m not any type. Thanks for putting me in my place all the same.”

  Palmer smiled and didn’t apologise. “So, will you see Liv again?”

  Hogarth gazed into his beer.

  “Maybe,” he said coyly. “But truth is we’re married to the job, aren’t we? Liv as well. She’s going for my old mucker DI Carson’s job and she’ll get it too.”

  Palmer nodded, thoughtfully.

  “And you’ll get my job one day, if you want it, that is,” said Hogarth.

  “And where does that leave you? Sitting behind the desk in Melford’s office, circuits frying like his do?”

  “No bloody fear! I wouldn’t want that job for any money. No. When the time comes, I’ll be roasting my paunch on the Costas with an early retirement package. You can keep all that paperwork and brown-nosing with the top brass. Not my bag at all.”

  Palmer laughed. “I don’t think I want to be married to the job…”

  Hogarth regarded her quietly. “Me either. It doesn’t look good on Melford does it.”

  “Melford – have you worked out what’s going on with him yet?”

  “Only that it’s not just a mental breakdown – or a mid-life crisis – much as it looks like one. If it is a breakdown it’s been brought about by circumstances.”

  “Circumstances?” said Palmer.

  Hogarth fished into his jacket pocket and brought out the squashed shred of paper. It was so crumpled it looked like a small white pellet. Hogarth peeled it apart and flattened it on the table.

  Palmer eyed the shred and read past the creases.

  “Something about Glasson… and Eleanor…?”

  Hogarth nodded. “His wife is called Eleanor. But Glasson doesn’t mean a thing to me. But between them these two are part of his current stress. I know that much.”

  “Where did you find this?”

  “Now you’re asking. I saw Melford was writing something on a notepad every time he took a call. He kept getting these messages too. Every time he called me in for another roasting there it was – the pad and pen on his desk…”

  “So you nabbed this from his desk?” said Palmer.

  Hogarth met her eyes but didn’t answer. He sipped his pint instead.

  “It looks to me like whatever is happening has been dominating his life for weeks now,” said Hogarth. “Even this nonsense with the local businesses. I’ve got a feeling that’s connected somehow.”

  “Now you’re just seeing patterns where there might be none.”

  “It’s called detective work, Sue, as well you know.”

  “But Melford’s not part of any investigation. You shouldn’t think of him like that. It’ll only make things worse between you. Worse for you mostly.”

  “Thanks for the tip but I think it might be a bit late for that.”

  “Where did you get that note?” she said, pointedly.

  “Because you keep asking… I slipped into his room when he was out, tried to get a sneak peek at his naughty notepad, but this is all I got.”

  “What? You actually stole it from his office.”

  “Wait for it. He knows, Sue. He knows. It was one of the many things we argued about earlier on. And you can bet from now on he’ll have the bloody knives out for me. From now on he’ll be w
illing me to fail on every case I work on. I’d best start looking at my flights to Malaga now, I suppose.”

  “Guv… you know what he’s like. You’ve brought this on yourself.”

  “Yeah. I know. But he’s up to something, Sue. And all those rollickings and all that vitriol and stress he keeps firing in every direction – it’s from a bad conscience. He’s up to no good and he knows it.”

  “Don’t rock the boat any more than you have already, guv – please – for your sake.”

  Hogarth shrugged. “His boat was already more than rocking. But I take your point. Look, I offered to help him fix his problem, whatever it is. I suppose it was a friendly warning to my superior.”

  “A warning? Never a good idea,” said Palmer.

  “Seemed like it at the time. Anyway, I offered to help him, but not anymore. That ship has sailed.”

  “Then give it time. Don’t push him anymore. Let’s just concentrate on the case – unless he does anything stupid. But even then, you shouldn’t get involved. Just blow the whistle on him instead.”

  “Not my style, Sue. Whistle-blowing, that is. Who knows? I might give the Long Man one last benefit of the doubt… But that’s enough of him,” Hogarth picked up his pint to end the matter. “What’s this bombshell you’re about to drop. We’ve done my life, we’ve done Melford. Come on. Break my heart. Are you leaving or what?”

  Palmer smiled. “I said no, didn’t I? I was just thinking that’s all.”

  Hogarth gulped at his beer and pointed to Palmer with his glass still in hand.

  “Don’t you bloody dare think of leaving me in the lurch over there with Simmons. Who knows what useless whelp they’d put in your place? I wouldn’t put it past them to stitch me up with one of the goons from Basildon. Then it’d be me and two idiots instead of one.”

  “It’s nice to know you’re wanted.”

  “Wanted? Of course you’re wanted. We’re Southend nick’s answer to Bonnie and Clyde. When we go down, we down together, okay.”

  Palmer raised an eyebrow.

  “I meant when we retire or quit this nonsense Not if I get the sack for anything. Don’t worry. I wouldn’t drag you into anything like that.”