The Secret Dawn

by Solomon Carter

  “Yvette had the power to look at the accounts, but she was admin. She paid bills and opened cheques. She ran the office. But Brett handled everything else. And that was when I saw that the business shouldn’t have been ten grand down – it should have been twenty grand up. Brett had always been well paid, but here he was, sinking the business through his own selfish greed. He wanted more. Always more.”

  Hogarth’s eyes flashed. He shifted on his stool, noticing the noise from the hallway had abated.

  “So you were the one who arranged the next meeting?”

  “No. Brett did. He wanted to know if I’d had time to think about it. And I had. Plenty of time. In fact, I couldn’t wait to see him. I copied everything I’d seen and sent it to our company solicitor. It’s still early, so he’s probably not even seen it yet. But I told Brett as soon as I saw him. I told him that I was never going to let him run the business, that I’d never give him that money, and I told him I hoped he’d end up going to prison for what he’d done.”

  Hogarth’s eyes narrowed and flicked through the window in the kitchen door towards the room Emily Flount was busy dismantling. It was too quiet for his liking, but Hogarth was still engrossed, and let it go.

  “How did he react?” he said.

  “He got defensive. Told me I’d imagined it. Told me those other accounts didn’t exists. I said I’d seen them and it was too late to get rid of them. He panicked and said he could fix it if I gave him time.”

  “What did you say to that?”

  “Nothing. I let him make his excuses, and I decided it was best to get out of there and let my solicitor handle what came next.”

  Hogarth frowned. “And that was how things were left?”

  Sabine Dawn pointed to the photograph and tapped her long pink nail on it.

  “You can see it for yourself. We got away from one another as quick as we could.”

  “And you didn’t have any further dealings with him after that? You didn’t see him again?”

  “I went home, Inspector. I couldn’t wait to be rid of him.”

  Hogarth’s eyes widened and Sabine Dawn caught the look. Her face turned pale. “I didn’t kill him, Inspector! I haven’t got it in me. All I want is to be left alone until I get some closure on this whole horrid business.”

  Closure. Yes. Closure was something Hogarth had been chasing since Saturday morning, but it still didn’t seem any closer. He had listened to Sabine Dawn, had seen the evidence contained in Gurney’s photographs, but there was nothing to undermine what the woman had told him. Hogarth nodded to himself. Sabine Dawn was in the clear. He looked at her and considered her motives for killing her husband. Emily Flount was in the next room, hunting for money which Mrs Dawn really didn’t give a damn about. In fact, the only thing Hogarth saw was a woman who wanted some alone time with the bottle. Nothing else mattered. The grief and shock were no act. Hogarth almost felt bad for suspecting her, but it was part of the job. It had to be done. But with his main suspect out of the picture, he had no time to waste. Hogarth was already searching for another.

  “You didn’t think that I could have done that to Brett, did you? You did. And what about Grant? Surely you didn’t—”

  Hogarth stood up and glanced across to the kitchen door. “It’s not for me to decide one way or the other, Mrs Dawn. My job is to ask the questions, look at the evidence and find the killer. In this instance, I’d have to say you’re in the clear.”

  “And Grant? Have you got any news about Grant?”

  Hogarth met her eyes immediately. He offered a thin, apologetic smile.

  “None yet, Mrs Dawn. But I hope to have some news for you by the end of the day.”

  “Any news would be something.”

  “I’m sure it would.” Hogarth got off his stool and walked to the kitchen door. Sabine watched him, curious. He opened the door quietly and paced down the hallway until he found Emily Flount. He saw her standing beside the flat screen TV with her back to him. The TV had been laid face down on the table, and now the drawers of the TV table were open too, with DVD cases and Blu-ray boxes stacked at the side by her ankle. Hogarth thought his approach had been quiet enough, but when Sabine appeared by Hogarth’s side, Emily called out as if she knew Sabine was there. The woman seemed to have eyes in the back of her head.

  “Sabine. You must have seen Grant watching one of these damn awful movies at some point. Any idea if he’d been watching any in particular?” As she spoke, Emily opened another DVD case, poked at the contents and dropped the case down to the floor.

  “Not really,” said Sabine “He wasn’t one for staying in watching the box, was he?”

  Sabine looked at the mess. “I think you’d better start tidying up now, don’t you?”

  “No. Not until I’m done. There must be something in one of these cases. I’ve looked everywhere else in here.”

  Sabine Dawn shook her head and looked back to the kitchen, probably thinking of her next drink.

  “I’ve had enough of this,” she said, and walked away. “You’ve got ten more minutes, Emily, ten minutes, then I want my house tidy, and you can clear off.”

  Hogarth listened as Dawn’s footsteps clacked away down the hall. He waited until Sabine was out of earshot before he spoke.

  “You really don’t have any shame, do you?”

  Emily Flount picked up two more DVD cases from the stack before she turned to face him. “Darling, you’ve seen my Instagram feed.” She grinned. “We both know the answer to that, don’t we?”

  “I’m beginning to ask myself even more questions about you, Emily.”

  “I’m sure you are. And I offered to answer a few of them, but you couldn’t handle me, could you?” she said with a wink.

  “Your offer came with more strings attached than a marionette. But it wasn’t those kinds of questions I was thinking of,” said Hogarth.

  Something dropped from the DVD case in Flount’s hand. She looked at it, then held up her hand to shush Hogarth, allowing her to concentrate on the fallen contents. Flount ducked down and picked up a folded white envelope.

  “My my… what have we here?” she said, grinning.

  Hogarth couldn’t help himself. “What DVD case was that in?”

  “This one,” said Flount. She tossed the empty case across the coffee table, and Hogarth grabbed it up with his hand.

  “Only Fools and Horses?” said Hogarth in disbelief.

  “As in, only fools and horses work,” said Emily Flount. “There’s another thing me and Grant agreed on.” He watched her prise the envelope apart with her long nails. She pulled the contents free and tossed the envelope on the floor.

  “What’s this?” she said, sounding unimpressed.

  “I could be wrong,” said Hogarth. “But that doesn’t look like a hundred and fifty grand to me.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” said Flount. She studied the document then irritated, she tossed it aside.

  Hogarth caught the document before it reached the table top. Flount kicked the stack of DVD cases by her feet and sent the whole lot sliding across the floor.

  “Then where the hell has he hidden it?” she said, as Hogarth scanned the document. It was a black and white computer print-out, evidently a booking confirmation from a holiday rental website. He scanned the details while Flount stepped over the mess she’d created and walked to the door.

  A two-bed luxury mini-villa with a swimming pool in the hills of Andalucía, Spain, with vistas of the Med in the distance. Only £1,499 for two weeks. It sounded expensive to Hogarth, until he looked at the accompanying black and white images of hills, swimming pool, and sea views. Then it looked worth every penny. But when had the booking been made? He scanned for the date and realised it had been booked three days before the fateful accident. Why? Had Grant known something was going to happen to him? And if not, then why was he planning a Spanish getaway? Maybe Sabine Dawn would know. He looked up to see Flount staring at him with folded arms.

  “He’s
done this on purpose. He’s playing games with all of us.”

  But Flount hadn’t bothered to read the document. She’d discarded it as soon as she’d looked at it. But Hogarth still had the feeling Flount wasn’t wrong.

  “Isn’t he just?” said Hogarth. “I only wish I knew where the game starts and where it ends.”

  “I’m going to find that money. I am,” said Flount, like a sulky child.

  “I don’t doubt your tenacity, Miss Flount. But I do wonder if you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

  “You should be helping.”

  “I should be doing my job. And shouldn’t you be tidying up?” said Hogarth stepping past Flount into the hallway.

  “Let Grant do it. This mess is all his.” Flount swore under her breath and marched away. As Hogarth walked to the kitchen with the booking print-out and heard the front door slam behind him. He entered the kitchen holding the piece of paper to find Sabine Dawn pouring herself a fresh dose of white wine in an unwashed glass.

  “I know, I know,” she said, sheepishly.

  “I’m not one to judge, Mrs Dawn. But I’d still recommend waiting until after you’ve eaten some breakfast.”

  “But you’re not judging, eh?” Sabine pushed the glass away and sighed. Hogarth doubted her commitment to abstain a moment longer than when he’d left the house.

  “She’s gone then?” said Sabine. “Bloody nuisance. I can’t wait to get those keys back off her.”

  “Yes, she’s gone. But not before she found this.” Hogarth waved the unfolded sheet.

  Sabine outstretched her hand and Hogarth handed her the document.

  “Grant booked that last Tuesday, Mrs Dawn. Do you know anything about it?”

  Sabine frowned as she read the booking. She looked up and shook her head.

  “Maybe it was a surprise for me. I do love a good holiday. And we’d been a bit down on each other lately.”

  “Maybe. But as luxury villas go, doesn’t it look a bit on the small side to you?”

  The woman read the details over again. She looked at Hogarth and tried to read his eyes.

  “Yes… it’s a bit smaller than what we’re used to.”

  “And what are you used to, Mrs Dawn?”

  “A big villa, with a nice outdoor terrace, a big pool, nice big rooms, and a wonderful view.”

  “Sounds very nice. And where would that be?”

  The woman frowned again. “We prefer Italy, Greece at a push.”

  “Then this booking does sound a bit different to usual, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, and a lot cheaper too… What was Grant thinking?” said Sabine.

  “Who can say, Mrs Dawn,” said Hogarth. “May I take that?” He held out his hand and Sabine Dawn nodded. He slipped the booking sheet into the manila file with Gurney’s two photographs and started to make his way out. He wanted to leave, to press on, to pursue his current thinking, but Hogarth restrained himself. He didn’t want to leave the woman alarmed.

  “I’ll be in touch, Mrs Dawn.

  “Today, you said. Like you said before?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised,” said Hogarth. “Oh, one more thing before I go. I’d like to get my hands on a copy of those company accounts.”

  Sabine Dawn nodded. “I’ll send you a copy by email.”

  “Call the station. They’ll give you my email address. The sooner the better, please.”

  “Yes, of course,” said Sabine with a hint of impatience. “You can see yourself out, can’t you, Inspector?” Hogarth nodded and turned away. He hoped the woman wouldn’t forget to send him those company accounts, though he suspected her wine glass was higher in her list of priorities. As soon as he was out of sight he sped to the front door, left the house and walked out onto the driveway. He looked around, but Emily Flount was nowhere to be seen. She was a quick mover indeed… Hogarth began to wonder about her. About her attempted manipulations. About her access to the lock-up. How much had Grant trusted her? Every man needed a confidante, so he said. But had his confidante also been his blind spot? A blind spot which Hogarth had almost walked right into himself. But Flount wasn’t the only one he needed to confront with the truth. The mini-villa booking in Spain was more than intriguing. Hogarth found it damn right infuriating. Another buried secret had come out into the light, and this one was still fresh. Hogarth checked his watch. It wasn’t even half past eight as yet, thank God. He took a deep breath and walked to the car. He had to consider his next step carefully. But when his mobile started ringing and Simmons name appeared on screen, all sense of careful consideration went out of the window. He knew he was back to fighting fires. Hogarth took a breath and answered the call.

  Eighteen

  Hogarth eyed the clock on the wall of the CID room. His eyelid twitched as the second hand seemed to race around ever faster.

  “And what did Kaplan make of what she saw?” he said, returning his gaze to Simmons on the other side of the meeting table.

  “Kaplan’s concerned, obviously. She’s very new to the job, guv, but she’s not stupid.”

  “I’m sure she’s not stupid, Simmons. Except when it comes to picking who she knocks about with on a Sunday night.”

  “What? Sir?” said Simmons.

  “You and her – outside the station last night. So, it’s happening then is it?”

  “Guv? This isn’t about me or PCSO Kaplan.”

  “I know exactly what this is about, Simmons, ‘cos I’m not stupid either.”

  Simmons looked awkward, but he continued to meet Hogarth’s eye. Palmer was present too, sitting beside him at the meeting table. There had been the shortest of debriefs on the progress of the case, about Sabine Dawn’s revelations on Brett Reville’s company fraud, before they had moved onto the most pressing matter at hand. The small matters of Grant Dawn’s car accident and Brett Reville’s suspected murder had been temporarily superseded by the latest Melford incident. They sat around the small table, solemn and fractious. It felt as if a siege mentality had set in. Whenever someone passed the door, Palmer, Simmons, or Hogarth glanced up to check if anyone was going to enter and a silence fell amongst them.

  “Fine,” said Hogarth. “I can see you don’t want to talk about it. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. Romance at work is a bad idea.”

  Palmer sniffed at his words and Hogarth swivelled a few degrees towards her in his seat. His questioning eye prompted Palmer to speak.

  “What about DS Burns then?” said Palmer.

  Hogarth frowned. Palmer’s face flushed, unsure if she had overstepped the mark. Even Palmer wasn’t sure if she had spoken to defend Simmons or was taking a jealous swipe. Hogarth wasn’t clear on her motivations either. But they had other fish to fry. From what Simmons had described, Melford’s private problems seemed even worse than Hogarth had feared. He sighed

  “DS Burns works in the Met. That’s a whole other police force. Simmons here has got his hands on the nearest and greenest young lady in the station, and now he’s managed to drag her into one of the most sensitive situations you’re ever likely to see. A senior police officer suspected of corruption – it’s unthinkable to have someone like Kaplan involved in this.”

  “Why? She’s sensible. You saw that in the Baba Sen investigation,” said Simmons.

  “Agreed,” said Hogarth. “Kaplan held up, just about. But this isn’t a straightforward case, is it? All kinds of pressure could be brought to bear on someone like her, and that’s even before we get to any kind of official IOPC investigation. What if Melford decided to use her to discredit what you’d seen?”

  “He couldn’t do that,” said Simmons. “How could he?”

  “Course he could. Any decent investigator with experience of serious interview techniques could crack someone as green as she is. And Melford’s been at this for years, in forces across the country. And Melford might not be the only risk in this. The man you saw with Melford – he might end up being the one tasked with sorting out any police who turn against hi
m.”

  “Come on, sir. You’re just getting carried away…” said Simmons.

  Hogarth narrowed his eyes and dragged a hand through his unkempt hair.

  “Carried away? I was around in the nineties when police connected to the drug gangs in Stoke Newington were getting away with things which would make your hair stand on end. Operation Jackpot uncovered scumbags on the force who were capable of doing literally anything to save their own skins. And there were countless other investigations just like that one. I’m talking about corrupt police who would easily throw a fellow cop to the wolves if it meant saving themselves from getting caught. Corruption becomes a matter of survival, Simmons. That’s how it goes. I’m serious. You really don’t want to get in the way of a bent cop when they’re backed into a corner.”

  “But you came to Southend because it happened here before, didn’t you, sir?”

  Hogarth nodded. “Southend was corrupt for a time. But Melford was part of the big clean up too. He started that long before I got here. Which makes this all the more awful to believe. But the way we handle this will shape whatever happens next, not just to Melford, but to us, to Kaplan, to the rest of this station. Timing wise, this stinks. You can see that. This is the very worst time for us to face something of this magnitude. Just when the proverbial looks set to hit the fan with Grant Dawn. Worst case scenario, if the Dawn and Reville case goes south, it could look like we’re part of the problem.”

  “What are you suggesting, guv?” said Palmer. “That we ignore it? Pretend Simmons and Kaplan didn’t see what they saw?” said Palmer.

  Hogarth sighed. “For want of a better word… yes.”