The Darkest Deed: A Gripping Detective Crime Mystery (The DI Hogarth Darkest series Book 3)
Page 14
“Lana Aubrey? You stayed there on Sunday night?”
“Yes,” said Chrissie.
“And she knew about your problems with Aimee Gillen?” said Palmer.
The girl nodded. A fresh question bloomed in Palmer’s mind. Hogarth would have spotted it too. If Lana Aubrey knew about Aimee hassling the new girl for sex, then why didn’t she tell them before…?
“Thank you, Chrissie. That’s very useful information.”
The girl nodded, but looked fraught. Palmer stood up and moved for the door.
“I might need to speak to you again, Chrissie.
“If you must,” said Chrissie. “Just next time, please be less obvious.”
But Palmer didn’t make any promises.
The only thing one hundred per cent true about Chrissie Heaton was the fear Palmer had seen in her eyes.
Fifteen
Hogarth and Palmer tracked Lana Aubrey down to her own office, which was a scaled down version of the same bland magnolia affair Harry King used for himself. The door was ajar. Aubrey was busy making a call on the landline when her eyes connected with Hogarth and she beckoned him inside. Hogarth saw her mobile phone laid nearby. It was always at hand. Aubrey was like a bloody one-woman telephone exchange. Hogarth noticed that her Chanel glasses were firmly in place. As Aubrey spoke on the phone, Hogarth planted his hands in his pockets and moseyed around the edge of the room. He saw photographs taken from the deck of a white yacht sitting on silver-blue waters, as well as pictures from late night parties, including one back from Miss Aubrey’s heyday. The younger, ultra-pouting Lana Aubrey stood side by side with a younger, sparkle-eyed Harry King, their arms around each other’s shoulders. At some time, probably more than once, Aubrey must have probably done the deed with Harry King. But surely, she wouldn’t have slept with a nasty little sprite like him for pleasure. And here she was. This girl was all business. He wondered where the real Lana Aubrey started – and even if that was her real name.
“You’re joking!” she said down the phone. “That’s far too much.”
He saw a more recent image of the woman leaning against a top of the range Mercedes convertible. It was metallic navy blue, and the shape suggested it was the sportier model. Hogarth was no car expert, but any joker could tell that the motor was worth a fortune. And it looked new. Maybe she took it for a test drive. Or it was Harry King’s car. This was Southend, not Hollywood. Surely the middle manager of a local film studio couldn’t afford a new Merc like that. Hogarth wondered if Aubrey had paid for the car by other means. No matter how she got it, Lana Aubrey was proud enough to have a photo of herself and the car on her office wall. Like a trophy.
“Stop right there,” said Aubrey. Hogarth turned and saw she was still on the phone. “We used to get better rental rates from our old supplier. If you’re serious about wanting to keep our business, you’d better start offering a discount… no way Put the order on hold. We’ll wait to hear from you.”
Lana Aubrey hung up without a goodbye as Hogarth’s eyes trailed across another picture. The fleshy colours caught his eye. By now he should have known what to expect from the place. It was a nude shot. A full nude. With all the photographs of holidays, cars, and good times from the past, Hogarth hadn’t expected to find a picture of Lana Aubrey’s naked body on the wall. But there she was, back in her prime, hair blowing around her like a lion’s mane, baring her very all for the camera.
Hogarth coughed loudly and snapped his head away. Lana Aubrey was looking at him with a severely arched eyebrow.
“I was at the very top of my game back then,” she said by way of explanation. “That shot was taken by Dan Roperson. A great shot, I think you’ll agree.
Hogarth struggled to find the right response.
“Roperson, the famous American photographer. That shot made it to the cover of Hotties.”
Hogarth felt the need to clear his throat again, and he avoided Palmer’s eyes. He knew Palmer was stifling a smirk. From the look of her face, Lana Aubrey was enjoying the moment too.
Hogarth paced away from the photographs and grabbed the back of one of the leather chairs facing Lana Aubrey’s desk.
“May I?”
Aubrey’s mobile phone buzzed again.
“Sorry. I should have put it on silent.”
Hogarth didn’t say so, but he was tempted to throw the bloody thing through the window. “Silent would be good,” said Hogarth. The woman read a text message before she thumbed the screen to blank and returned the phone to the desk.
“Okay,” said Aubrey, leaning away from her desk. “I’m all ears. You’ve got my attention. So how can I help?”
“By now, we’ve spoken to quite a few of your staff,” said Hogarth.
“Including Chrissie Heaton,” said Aubrey.
“You know about that?” said Palmer.
Aubrey smiled. “I am the boss here. Word gets around.”
Palmer wasn’t pleased. She took a seat beside Hogarth, her backside creaking down into the leather.
“DS Palmer here has learned that Aimee Gillen was putting pressure on Chrissie Heaton. The girl says Aimee was hassling her for sex. That puts something of a new complexion on things. We had believed Aimee Gillen took Chrissie under her wing as the new girl here. That she was looking after her, because Aimee was the one who knew the ropes. The kindly mother figure and all that.”
“Yes, and I’m sure that was part of it,” said Lana. “Aimee could be very caring.”
“But Chrissie says Aimee wanted much more than that. Did you know about the situation? Yes or no, Miss Aubrey?”
“I knew Aimee had taken Chrissie under her wing, yes. I knew they spent time together, especially when Chrissie first arrived here with us. But then I saw her looking troubled recently, I asked her what was going on and she broke down and told me everything. When I heard, I was appalled.”
“Appalled?” said Hogarth.
“Yes. I had never known Aimee to do anything like that in all her time here. And I don’t care what the actors are into sexually, so long as they do their thing on their own time and it doesn’t hurt anyone. But Aimee? That was a new one on me. Aimee had always been straight-laced, – aside from the drugs – and we respected her for it. But pressuring Chrissie into sleeping with her because she’d lost it, because she was lonely – taking advantage of a new girl like that…? That shows how desperate Aimee had become. That was beyond the pale.”
“And did you bother to do anything about it?” said Hogarth.
Lana Aubrey sat up in her seat. “Of course I did. I went to see Aimee right away.”
“When?” said Palmer.
“Last week. The first time I heard. Five or six days before Aimee died. No matter what state she was in, that really wasn’t on and I told her so. I warned her to leave Chrissie alone.”
“And how did she take it?”
“She didn’t like it, but I said my piece and went.”
“Miss Aubrey, don’t you think that a warning like that, about her personal conduct, could have had a very profound impact on her stability?”
“Maybe. But I have a duty of care towards Chrissie?”
“And what about your duty of care towards Aimee Gillen? What if your ticking off tipped her over the edge?”
Lana Aubrey stiffened and looked lost for words. Her voice turned quiet.
“I had a duty towards both, and I did my best.”
“I’m sure. But you didn’t tell us any of this before when you had the chance, did you?” said Hogarth, with a glint in his eye. “That bothers me. Why didn’t you tell us, Miss Aubrey?”
“I was protecting them both, it’s obvious, isn’t it? Aimee had a good reputation apart from the drugs, and Chrissie didn’t need that stigma around her. Why should I have ruined Aimee’s reputation like that? She was on her way out. And Chrissie was settling in. She felt vulnerable. I offered to help.”
“Very noble of you, Miss Aubrey. So, you let her stay at your apartment here. Can yo
u confirm that Chrissie Heaton stayed in your apartment on Sunday night?”
The woman met his eyes with resolve.
“Yes, I can.”
“Between the hours of ten pm and seven am the next morning?”
“At least that,” said Aubrey. “I can confirm that, and I’ll stand by it.”
Hogarth narrowed his eyes as they settled on the woman.
“I have to ask you this,” said Hogarth. “And apologies if you don’t like the question.”
“What?” said Aubrey.
“Don’t you think it seems a little beyond the call of duty for a woman like you – the managing director – to put the new girl on your sofa for the night. I think that’s remarkable.”
“What are you suggesting, Inspector?”
“Hold on, Miss Aubrey. I haven’t finished yet. What time did you start hosting Chrissie Heaton that night?”
“Hosting? That’s a very odd choice of word,” said Aubrey. “It sounds a little loaded, to me.”
“It’s difficult to find the right word, Miss Aubrey.”
“Nothing untoward happened between us, if that’s what you’re suggesting. This is a business. Not everything is as sordid as people imagine. Chrissie is new. She was scared. Whether I wanted to or not, I had a duty to look after her.”
“Yes…” said Hogarth. “Yes, you did. Did you see Aimee Gillen on the night of the murder, Miss Aubrey?”
“No,” she replied. Hogarth kept his eyes on her as she formulated a response. But he saw nothing.
“When did Chrissie come to you?”
“She didn’t come. Not that night. I found her. She was upset.”
“Where did you find her?”
“Near the washrooms.”
“Near the sauna…” said Hogarth.
“I said the washrooms, Inspector. She was upset.”
“Same difference, Miss Aubrey. And what time was this?”
“Just before ten, like you said.”
“You were down by the washrooms, at ten pm.”
“I sometimes do a little check down there. This isn’t my business per se, but it feels like it. I’ve been here too long not to have become attached.”
Hogarth stroked his chin.
“I was young in this business once. I know the mistakes they make. I like to keep an eye on some of them. But I really didn’t know about Chrissie and Aimee until a few days before that.”
Hogarth nodded.
“Fine. So, you saw Chrissie. Did you see anyone else down there?”
Lana Aubrey shrugged and shook her head. “Oh no, wait. I did see someone. I saw young Marvin, the runner.”
“Marvin?” said Hogarth, frowning. “Then he was working late.”
Aubrey smiled. “He’s a runner, and he loves working here. He always works late.”
Hogarth paused.
“What time did you see him?”
“When I found Chrissie. About ten.”
Hogarth’s eyes turned inwards. He recalled his brief interview with the awkward lad by the sauna. He blinked and looked at Palmer. She caught Hogarth’s look, but not his meaning. Lana Aubrey caught it too.
“What is it?” she said.
Hogarth shook his head. “I’m thinking it over, that’s all.” But his mind was racing. He pushed on. “Aimee Gillen was also seen talking with at least one of the other girls from the gym next door.”
“Was she?” said Aubrey, shaking her head with a frown. “I don’t know about that. This is a very busy place. People bump into each other. They talk.”
“But Chrissie came across from the X-L gym, didn’t she? She worked there before she worked here.”
Aubrey shrugged. “I believe so. I think Harry must have noticed her looks and offered her a chance.”
“Very noble of him, recognising the girl’s talents from afar and offering her a big break…”
Lana Aubrey pasted a smile over a barely hidden scowl.
“I don’t know the details of how she came to us. But I’m glad she did. She could be a star one day.”
“Like you were, eh, Miss Aubrey? Now I want to focus on the detail about Aimee and Chrissie and this other girl. Who knows, there could have been others. We need to know if there were.”
“I doubt that very much,” said Aubrey. “Aimee was having a crisis. She reached out to the wrong person. She wasn’t a monster, Inspector.”
“Then you don’t think Aimee was making a habit of ingratiating herself with the young female staff at the gym next door?”
“I can’t speak about that for certain, but I doubt it. I don’t know. But you already know how she was with Chrissie. You’ll have to draw your own conclusions.”
“But I’d rather you tell me. Do you know if Aimee was seen with other staff from that gym?”
“No. She wasn’t.”
“Did you see her with anyone from next door. Anyone at all.?”
“I just told you. No,” said Aubrey. “Like I said, that idea sounds a little extreme.”
“Fair enough,” said Hogarth, changing tack.
“I don’t know what you’re getting at, Inspector.”
“We are beginning to learn more about Aimee Gillen than we knew before. We see she was a mixed up, messed up woman. Drug addled. A woman in distress. But we also have a woman who was preying on other young women here. It’s an odd situation, it really is. I’m looking for how it fits together, Miss Aubrey.”
“People aren’t always who you think they are,” said Lana Aubrey. “Aimee had changed. That’s all I know. Maybe she lost the balance of her mind.”
“Maybe. And maybe she knew exactly what she was doing. But somehow along the line it went wrong.”
“What do you mean? We’ve done everything we could by Aimee. Harry told you that himself.”
“I meant Aimee could have brought this on herself…” said Hogarth. He studied Lana Aubrey closely. “Isn’t that what you think, Miss Aubrey? That maybe she pushed one of these girls too far. And then it went horribly wrong.”
He watched the woman as she frowned and dabbed a finger at her desk.
“I suppose it could… could have happened that way. But I really don’t know if it did.”
Hogarth nodded as he watched her and let out a long deep sigh. He offered the woman a smile, but there was no mirth in it.
“But if you are suggesting that either Chrissie or one of the girls from that gym killed Aimee Gillen, then I think you’re very, very much mistaken.”
“And why would that be?” said Hogarth.
“Because it can’t be, can it?” said Aubrey.
“But it might, eh? Like you said, near enough. We don’t ever really know people. Not until we see what they do. I hope you’re not protecting Chrissie Heaton, Miss Aubrey.”
“Now, you’re not just mistaken, you’re being offensive.”
“Oh dear. I have a habit of doing that. Sorry. But if you do think of anything else, you’ll be sure to pass it on, won’t you?”
Lana Aubrey nodded and gave them a thin smile.
A glint of silver on Aubrey’s desk flashed and caught Hogarth’s eyes. He glanced and saw a silver stud embedded on a black key fob. There was a Mercedes logo embossed on the plastic.
“Nice car by the way, Miss Aubrey.”
The woman raised an eyebrow. “Thank you,” she said after a moment. “I worked hard for that. Hard work is the key to all success. I think poor Aimee lost that ethic somewhere along the way.”
“Yes,” said Hogarth. He nodded and turned for the door. “That’s the trouble with ethics. People are always losing them.”
Sixteen
Simmons had been back on the job for all of three days, and so far Hogarth had done little beyond give him the tedious task of chasing the Go3 Network for the RIPA request information from Aimee Gillen’s phone. Whenever Hogarth got near anything juicy he’d been left out in the cold. It wasn’t as if he was some sort of perv! He supposed Hogarth could have been protecting him on his
first week back or simply winding him up. With Hogarth’s spiky tendencies, Simmons couldn’t be sure. But either way, Simmons had taken enough. Melford was clearly unhappy with the DI too, which gave Simmons enough self-justification to take some matters into his own hands. He hadn’t come back to the job to stand around in corridors– at least not without some purpose. And as far as Simmons saw it, Hogarth had dropped the ball on this one. Marvin the runner, seemed shifty. He knew the guv had seen it, but so far had let it go. Marvin was also young enough to make serious mistakes. Add to that his round-the-clock work pattern, and it had Simmons wondering about the possibilities. And it was those possibilities which had Simmons tracking Marvin around the lower corridors of the studio, like a cop with a purpose. His current purpose was not to let Marvin see he was being followed. And in the meantime, following Marvin offered him ample opportunities to get a close look at the ladies who worked for Harry King. The studio was another world, and he was dumbstruck by it. Half shock, half fascination.
Simmons walked through the lower corridor towards the showers and the washrooms, his mind already spinning at what might go on in those areas after hours. His imagination furnished the showers with so many possibilities his heart rate picked up whenever he passed them. Marvin was through another set of doors beyond the showers. Simmons paused in the first corridor before the washrooms, watching. Simmons had assumed the furthest door beyond the washrooms had been a service area, but it seemed he was wrong. As Simmons stepped out onto the plastic mats which covered some of the wet tiles, a group of three girls walked out of the washrooms. They were casually dressed in the standard hoodie tops, jeans, or jogging bottoms. And like all the rest, they were well made-up, their hair all nicely done. They looked good. Simmons blinked at them, feeling as transparent as could be. They looked too good. In this industry he supposed it mattered. Most of the girls he saw on the high street didn’t seem to give a rat’s backside about their appearance, but not this lot. Simmons nodded at them and couldn’t help smiling as they passed by. The girls stopped their chatter and looked at him one-by-one as they passed him by.