Dawn’s brow dropped low over his eyes.
“The photograph of your wife at the GDS office. That was when Brett made a pitch to take over the business… and he made a pitch to your wife.”
“What?!”
“Don’t fret, Mr Dawn. She didn’t go for it. To use her words, she found the man repugnant.”
Dawn smiled before his frown deepened. “Brett tried it on with her?”
“As I said, you left her alone. Vulnerable. Reville tried it on with her, yes, but I think he did it just to get his hands on the business. For self-preservation purposes. Look at these sheets again, Mr Dawn. All your cash flow problems. You can see it now, can’t you? There weren’t ever cash flow problems. They were embezzlement problems. Those cost headings with the mysterious three and four figure spends. I’ll bet if you add those figures up, they’ll amount to the entirety of your cash flow problem, from start to finish.”
Hogarth watched as Dawn scanned the documents. He saw the cogs of the man’s mind whirring as he made the comparisons and calculations he should have made months ago. The man’s eyes were opening to the truth.
“All the while Brett Reville was blaming you for being too laissez faire and lazy with your business, he was bleeding you dry. Brett Reville was the problem with your business, and your wife saw it. At that meeting, Sabine managed to smuggle these files away without him noticing. The next day she met Reville again, but this time she fronted Reville with what she knew. After that, the meeting was over. Reville wanted time to blag his way out of a crisis, and your wife used his panic to get away. At least, that’s how she told it. But the trouble is, within an hour of that fateful meeting, Brett Reville was found dead, just a few hundred yards away.
“I didn’t do it,” said Dawn.
“So you said. And neither did your wife.”
“You suspected Sabine of killing him?! That’s madness.”
“No crazier than you suspecting Sabine of trying to kill you, Mr Dawn. But I know she didn’t do it. There’s still a chance that good old Brett died of a cardiac arrest. That’s certainly what it looked like – a fat man dead in a car with Mars bar wrappers all around him and not a murder weapon in sight. But I still don’t believe it. I’m banking on pathology coming through with evidence of murder. Sabine was the last person to see Brett Reville alive, which would pretty much put your wife top of the list of suspects, except for two crucial details. One, the meeting happened not far from Southend High Street. There are cameras all over the place, so CCTV will almost certainly exonerate her as soon as we check it. We’re bound to find CCTV of her walking away from the office, getting in her car and driving home. And the reason I’m so confident about that, is because I think I know who did kill Reville, and more importantly, how they did it. Trouble is…” Hogarth bit his lip and his eyes misted over. “I’m just not sure of the why.”
“Who, man?” said Dawn. “Come on. Whoever killed Brett has to be the same bastard who tried to kill me.”
“Possible, but not certain, Mr Dawn. I can’t say anymore until I’m sure about it. But I’m sure about your wife. She’s innocent. And I think now is the time you should stop punishing her, don’t you?”
Grant Dawn blinked. “And you’re sure about that, Inspector? You don’t just want me to come out of hiding to save your own skin.”
“If you happened to show up alive before your status became presumed-dead, it might make things easier. But, take me out of it. It would erase all of those legal hurdles you’d be facing too.”
“I was never worried about those,” said Dawn.
“But you should be,” said Hogarth. “And if I were you, I’d be thinking of your wife.”
Grant nodded. “You say she fronted Reville about all that?”
Hogarth nodded. “She wanted him to stop draining your business, because the business was yours. She fronted the man and blocked him at every bloody turn – out of love and loyalty to you.”
“Then it wasn’t her,” said Dawn. A hint of a smile flashed across his face.
“No, Mr Dawn. It wasn’t.”
Grant Dawn’s face broke into a faintly manic grin. He started to pace around the lock-up, gathering momentum along the way, picking up clothes, his toothbrush and sleeping bag, and he stuffed them into a navy blue holdall hidden beneath his desk.
“Hang on” said Palmer. “If someone did kill Reville and sabotaged his car…?”
Dawn paused to look at Palmer. “Yes?”
“Than is it wise for Mr Dawn to come out of hiding?”
“Very wise,” said Hogarth. “Because if this killer dares to have another go at Mr Dawn, then he’d better be a genius. Because this time we’ll be watching every bloody second.”
Palmer didn’t look satisfied, and Dawn saw it. He zipped up his holdall
“It doesn’t matter if it’s wise or not,” said Dawn. “Sabine wasn’t involved, and she sent Reville packing. That’s good enough for me. I need to see my wife.”
Palmer sighed. Grant Dawn grabbed his keys from the desk.
“Don’t suppose you’d give me a lift would you, Inspector?” he said, sounding coy.
“Funny that. Seeing as you’ve just taken me for a ride for the last three days,” said Hogarth.
Dawn looked at Hogarth. He let his words hang in the air.
“No, I don’t mind at all,” said Hogarth, breaking into a hard grin. “Since we’ve only just discovered this lock-up… and found you recovering inside, all weak and suffering from your terrible ordeal…”
“My terrible ordeal?” said Dawn, confused.
“Yes. You crashed into the river, escaped from your car and swam to safety, and then somehow you crawled and staggered your way here to hole up until you were well again… After what you’ve been through, I think driving you home is the least we could do.”
Dawn stopped moving. “You’ve only just discovered me?” he said, his frown turning into a smile.
Hogarth nodded. “You see, Mr Dawn, everyone’s a hero. You were weak and suffering when we found you. Could be you even blacked out for a day or so and were too unwell to call anyone for help. After crashing your car into that muddy old river, who knows?”
Dawn gave a thin smile. “You know, Inspector, that sounds very much like what happened.”
“That’s the spirit,” said Hogarth, looking at Palmer. Palmer folded her arms, but Hogarth saw a hint of amusement shining behind her orchestrated mask of disapproval.
Grant Dawn loaded his bag with the rest of his stash, even the remaining Portuguese beers and the chocolate from the fridge. Hogarth watched and waited, and just before they walked out of the building, he picked up the box of pen needles, and the spare medical syringe. Hogarth stuffed them into his jacket until his pockets bulged and walked out into the open air and the bright salty marshes.
“Time to get our hero home,” said Hogarth. “We’ll take you to see your wife, but we’ll need to get you checked over at hospital. From here on in, we have to play it by the book. And you best get your story nice and straight on the way, Mr Dawn, because I think we might be seeing you on the evening news,” said Hogarth.
Hogarth stopped and leaned a moment on the roof of his car. He looked around the bleak green wilderness and sniffed.
“Get that salty sea air, Palmer? It’s actually beginning to smell pretty good.”
Palmer finally smiled. “The sea isn’t the only thing I can smell around here, guv.”
“Now, now, Palmer. Never let the facts get in the way of a good story. Especially if the story brings justice.”
“And you think it will?”
“I bloody hope so. We’ve got out of a tight spot. Now the real work starts, things should be easier.”
“We’re not out of it yet, guv,” said Palmer.
Hogarth shrugged and his grim smile stayed in place. They got into the car and the DI whistled tunelessly as he started the engine. As Hogarth whistled Palmer kept quiet and looked out at the landscape. She had th
e distinct feeling that Hogarth’s optimism wouldn’t last.
Twenty-one
Hogarth put the syringe pack and the pen needles on the dashboard, so they were front and centre above the radio as he drove them home. Which meant they were important to Hogarth’s thinking, but with Dawn still in the back Palmer decided to save her questions until later. They drove through the flat wilderness, with Hogarth’s eyes flicking towards the syringe and the pen needles at odd moments. He glanced at Dawn in the rear-view mirror.
“Have you ever seen your cousin eat any chocolate, Mr Dawn?”
“Emily? Do you think she’d be able to keep that figure if she ate chocolate? Emily’s figure is her business. Besides, I know she’s diabetic. And I’ve known her a good long time.”
Hogarth’s eyes narrowed. He nodded and turned his eyes back to the country lanes. Palmer knew Hogarth wasn’t convinced. He was still chewing something over. Chocolate. Diabetes. Syringes… Hogarth was working on something alright. Before they were halfway home, he picked his mobile from his inside pocket and started to dial, glancing between his phone screen and the road ahead.
“Is that safe?” said Dawn.
Hogarth shot the man a look of disbelief. “You’re actually serious?”
Dawn shrugged, and Hogarth glanced at Palmer.
“I’m going to call it in, make things official. I want you both to keep quiet and listen to what I say. Okay?”
He dabbed the green button. He put the call on speaker and put his phone on the dash by the needle box. There was a call tone, and then the sound of a deep, but adenoidal voice at the other end.
“DI Hogarth, sir.”
“Heybridge!”
As Hogarth started to speak Heybridge interrupted him.
“Glad you called, sir. We’ve got news on the car forensics.”
“Oh?” said Hogarth, tensing. He glanced at the rear-view mirror and met Dawn’s eyes.
“Yes, sir. The damage to the Capri was pretty extensive, it was totally wiped out, so there’s still some more looking to be done. There was a great deal of damage to the underneath of the vehicle. The axle, exhaust, and underbody were crushed on the end of the slipway, and it seems the tide caused some more damage when the car was dragged out. The engine’s intact and looks okay apart from some wear and tear. But the areas of most concern were the brakes. They do show a lot of damage. There was no brake fluid left in the system at all. It could be that the impact ruptured the tubes, and drained the fluid, or it could be something deliberate took place prior to the incident.”
“Something deliberate?” said Hogarth. “Like sabotage?”
“Yes, sir.”
“But you haven’t got proof as yet?”
“No sir, the forensics team apologise, but the car was jammed full of mud and silt which has badly affected their work. They say they should have a definitive cause very soon, but they can’t give us a timeframe on that. And it’s not looking good for Mr Dawn, either, sir. After this long missing, around exposed marshy terrain like this, he could well have died from exposure, blood loss from his injuries, or drowning. The coastguard are thinking of calling off—”
“That’s why I called, Heybridge. I’ve got him.”
Hogarth bit his lip and listened for the man’s reaction. There was a pause at the other end.
“Sir?”
“I said we’ve found him. It turns out Mr Dawn somehow dragged himself from the wreck and got himself back to shelter. The man kept a lock-up about a mile and a half from the slipway where the Capri went in.”
“You’re saying he survived? Sir? How come he hasn’t been found until now?”
“Turns out this lock-up was Mr Dawn’s secret, PC Heybridge. It took some digging, but we found the address in his files, and lo and behold, he was in there. He’s not exactly in good health. His face is all scratched up, and he’s been ill all weekend – without any way to communicate, apparently.”
“And this lock-up was in Paglesham, you say?”
He felt the man’s irritation simmering beneath his professional manner.
“Yes,” said Hogarth. “It’s back along Paglesham Road. A rickety old red brick barn building called Flowside.”
“Flowside? I think I’ve seen that on my way here every morning”
“Probably so…” said Hogarth, letting his voice trail off.
Hogarth stopped talking. Palmer read the vaguely pained expression on his face. Hogarth had taken his lies as far as he could. The silence at the other end of the line was deafening, and it lasted a long moment before Heybridge finally returned to the line. Hogarth listened and waited.
“Anyway… my word!” said Heybridge, with a deep sigh. “A true survival story, that it. Bear Grylls eat your heart out. Excellent news, sir. I’d better contact the coastguard right away. Send my regards to Mr Dawn, sir. I look forward to hearing all about it.”
“Certainly shall, Heybridge,” said Hogarth, breathing a quiet sigh of relief.
“The incident report, sir, where do we go from here?”
“The man’s alive and well, Heybridge,” said Hogarth. “So now we can scale things back – but we’ll still need to know the results on the forensics. They’re crucial, as will be Mr Dawn’s account of events – soon as he’s well enough, that is. Once we have both those elements, I think we’ll be able to wrap things up nice and neatly.”
“Without any charges pressed against any party?”
“It could end up that way. It would be the easiest solution,” said Hogarth.
Dawn stared at him in the rear-view mirror and shook his head.
“We’ll wait and see, shall we? Thanks, Heybridge. I’ll be in touch.”
Hogarth ended the call.
“I may be back with the living, Inspector, but brake fluid doesn’t just leak by itself. Those brakes failed well before I hit the water. That’s why I went in.”
“Of course, Mr Dawn. But I can’t pre-empt anything here. If those lines were cut, forensics will soon prove it. And we’ll take it from there. Now it’s the killer’s time to sweat. You heard what I said to the man. You just make sure your story tallies with that, okay?”
Dawn nodded and turned to look out of the window. Hogarth glanced down at the medical supplies on the dash. And Palmer took it all in.
***
They pulled up outside 424 Longacre Road and Hogarth leaned back over his seat to face Grant Dawn. “You’ll want some privacy, I understand that, but we need you to get a move on. There’s still a killer out there, and you’ll need to keep to your story. You’re sick, recovering from your escape, back from the brink. So here’s how we play it You go in there and tell your missus, and if I were you, I’d tell her the exact same story you’re going to tell the rest of the world.”
“Guv,” said Palmer, with a hint of reproach.
“What? I’m not a married man, but I know what most women are like. Present company excepted, of course. I don’t know your wife too well, but from what I’ve seen, she doesn’t like being played.”
Dawn grinned. “You’re right there. I’ll think about what to tell her. Hopefully, she’ll be too pleased to go into the details right off the bat, don’t you think?”
“Sounds like wishful thinking to me, Mr Dawn,” said Hogarth. “You can have ten minutes, then back out here. We’ll need to take you to hospital.”
Dawn nodded.
“You’ll need to call off Gurney, get his story straight too,” said Hogarth.
“Gurney will be okay. I’ll call him off when we find out who sabotaged me.”
Tempted as he was, Hogarth didn’t complain. Instead he rolled his eyes so only Palmer could see. Grant Dawn got out of the car, slammed the door loudly, and skipped across the driveway towards the front door.
“That man’s full of it,” said Hogarth.
“He’s not the only one,” said Palmer.
“What’s that supposed to mean? We’re doing what we have to do. The criminals will go down, and the idiots
who got us in this mess will be confronted.”
“Grant Dawn was one of those idiots. Some might say you and Simmons were among them…”
Hogarth arched an eyebrow. “Careful now. Simmons needed help, and after I met the man, I became intrigued. Before I knew it, I’d ended up hooked like a bloody fish.”
“You think Dawn is impulsive…!”
“I admitted I’m impulsive too. That’s far better than flaky isn’t it?”
“Does Liv Burns know what she’s getting herself into?” said Palmer.
Hogarth shook his head. “I doubt it. We knew each other as colleagues, Sue, not as anything else. I never even saw her as a woman. Not until she came to visit.
For a moment Palmer looked awkward. “At least she’ll know what you’re like.”
“I don’t think I can take that as a compliment, can I?” said Hogarth. “But Liv doesn’t know what I’m like, Sue. And we’ve barely got past social pleasantries. I don’t think she’ll run when she gets to know me… will she?”
“Don’t know what you’re asking me for,” she said.
“Because you know me better than any bugger else, that’s why. Bonnie and Clyde, remember? Look. We both know that Ali Hartigan never really loved me. She was using me, that’s all. Which means I’ve not had a genuinely close relationship in a very long time, and poor old Liv has barely scratched the surface. Who knows if I’m up to that stuff anymore…? If she gets too close too fast, I reckon I’ll run a mile. Or maybe she’ll be the one to head for the hills.”
Palmer smiled patiently. “I think you’re alright, guv” she said.
“Alright? Wow. Gee! Thanks for the vote of confidence,” said Hogarth.
Palmer’s idle smile stayed on her face as the front door of 424 opened and Grant Dawn came stumbling down the steps looking confused.
“Oh dear,” said Hogarth. “See what I mean? Looks like he’s had the rolling pin treatment already.”
The Secret Dawn Page 26