The Darkest Lies: A Gripping Crime Mystery Series - Two Novel Boxed Set (The DI Hogarth Darkest Series Boxed Sets Book 1)

by Solomon Carter

  It was a question which DC Simmons should have asked, but the DC’s brain still seemed out of gear. Hogarth’s eyes passed over Simmons before he looked at Dawson. Simmons seemed oblivious.

  “Peter Deal owns the garage there, but it’s not in use. Picton says that Peter Deal had his own relationship with Jake Drummond. But we knew that much already from Gary Grayson. I heard the DJ mocking Deal about a business partnership with Drummond. But Picton still hasn’t given any good reason why he was using the garage to store drugs. It could be unrelated – that he just found a useful empty space – or maybe Drummond knew about the drugs there. But for now, the priority has to be the murder.”

  Hogarth looked at Palmer, Simmons, and Dawson. As he looked at Dawson by the door, Hogarth thought he caught sight of a flash of blonde lingering outside.

  “Open the door, PC Dawson. I think someone else is attending our meeting.”

  Dawson turned his shoulder and yanked the door open. Right beside the door and walking away quickly was PCSO Rawlins.

  “Bec!” said Dawson. PCSO Rawlins looked at Dawson and her face flushed pink.

  “Come in, come in, then.”

  Sheepishly, Rawlins walked into the office. Dawson shut the door behind her.

  “Sir?” she said.

  “If you’re going to eavesdrop you may as well help us. Do you recall anyone mentioning anything suspect to you about Peter Deal at Club Smart?”

  Rawlins took her time. “Not that I remember. He was at the club. One of the older types, same age group as Jake Drummond, mid-to-late fifties. Quite a curious looking man.”

  “I saw him and Grayson arguing. Did you talk to Grayson at all?”

  Rawlins shook her head.

  Hogarth nodded. “I asked Grayson about the argument and he told me Peter Deal had had a minor lottery win and wanted to invest in a new business. It seems he was intent on the mechanic game…”

  “And he wanted to invest money in Jake Drummond?” said Dawson. “Sounds like a very bad idea to me.”

  “I think Grayson was right,” said Hogarth. “Deal was about to get ripped off in a big way,” said Hogarth. “The killer did save him from getting shafted.”

  “Did Deal know Picton and Cruddas were storing illegal substances in his garage?” said Simmons.

  “Who knows? It wouldn’t surprise me either way,” said Hogarth. “It doesn’t sound like Peter Deal is the brightest spark does it? But the more we push, the more the dots are beginning to join up. Drummond was about to rip off Peter Deal. Cruddas and Picton were under serious pressure from Drummond. Picton stored drugs at Deal’s garage. It’s even possible Deal was in on the murder. The dots are joining up, but we’re still missing the biggest dot of them all. Andy Cruddas. Why is he still missing? If he didn’t do it, he needs to clear his name.”

  “And where is he hiding?” said Palmer.

  Hogarth shrugged. “Mummy’s boy, Cruddas, has all the abilities of a Harry Houdini…”

  “Sir,” said Bec Rawlins with a hint of reproach in her voice.

  Hogarth met the young Rawlins’ gaze. She looked hesitant, like she was holding back.

  “Speak your mind, Rawlins.”

  “Andy Cruddas is not who you think he is.”

  “Or maybe he’s not who you think, Rawlins. We now know the man is a drug dealer, for one.”

  “But drug dealing and murder are very different things.”

  “That’s a matter of opinion too, I’m afraid. Both kill,” said Hogarth.

  Rawlins nodded, taking Hogarth’s point.

  “Even so, I’m sure whatever he’s done wrong stems from depression, sir. Andy Cruddas might have been born into a moneyed family, but he’s had a very hard life. I mentioned his family tragedy…”

  “You mentioned it in passing, yes…”

  “His father died a couple of years back – in a car crash. His family has had a lot of trouble. He’s got a kind heart, sir. He really couldn’t have killed Jake Drummond, even if the man was doing him harm.”

  “So you say…” As Hogarth spoke, a thought drifted over his face, clouding his eyes. “Trouble you say…? His father was killed in a car crash. When?”

  “Two years back. Yes, they’ve had a lot of trouble since.”

  “Trouble…” said Hogarth, chewing on the word.

  Rawlins took a deep breath as if she was about to explain a complicated story. Hogarth raised a palm to stop her in her tracks.

  “It wouldn’t be financial trouble, by any chance?”

  Bec Rawlins nodded. “That was what it resulted in, sir. For a while at least. Andy’s father, was very well paid. But when he died, the family ended up broke for a long time.”

  “Very interesting, Rawlins. I must say this Cruddas lot sound very unlucky.”

  Hogarth kept his own counsel, but the look on his face spoke volumes of a new idea, and a hint of mischief to boot.

  There was a knock at the office door. “Come in,” called Hogarth. It was DS Burton, one of Jobson’s team from the other office. “Yes?”

  “DI Hogarth – the cleaner at Club Smart has found something of interest. I think you might want a look before forensics get hold of it.”

  Hogarth’s serene smile faded, and he got up out of his chair as Burton closed the door.

  “Let’s hope it’s good news, eh?” said Hogarth. He walked out of the CID room in search of the news, good or bad.

  Chapter Twelve

  Later.

  “Are these yours, Daniel?” said Hogarth.

  Hogarth dropped the clear plastic clip-lock bag on the table of interview room one. Picton pushed his spectacles up his nose and shuffled in his seat. He cleared his throat to speak. DI Hogarth and DS Palmer watched his responses.

  “They look like a pair of my glasses. Another pair I own. Spares.”

  “If we checked these against your usual prescription I’d say there’s a very good chance they’d be the same, wouldn’t you?”

  Picton stayed silent.

  “In fact, if I called your optician, do you think he would confirm that he issued these glasses? He might even have the date he issued them in his big log book. A little bit like your log book, I suppose. What do you think, Daniel?”

  “I want to speak to my solicitor.”

  “Yes, of course you do. But just to settle my mind, are these yours?”

  “They could be.”

  “Interesting. Because if you look a little closer, just here, in that corner, what do you think that blemish might be?”

  “They’re glasses. Glasses often get dirty. I’m always cleaning them.”

  “I think that might be a bit more than a typical bit of smearing.” Hogarth leaned forward in his seat. “Some of my colleagues think that could be blood. Now, I’m no expert, but I know some people who are. These spectacles are going to go to forensics. They have a lab. They can run tests on things like that. And just in case you didn’t know, if that blood turns out to belong to Jake Drummond, I might need to revise the charges you’re being held under. Do you understand what I’m saying, Daniel?”

  Picton hammered the table with his fist.

  “You can’t do this! I’ve read about things like this! This is a frame-up. A fit-up!”

  “You need to think carefully before you throw around accusations like that here, son. You’re beginning to sound like every guilty bugger I’ve ever nicked.”

  “But I wasn’t there! You know I left the club before he was killed.”

  “For the record, I don’t know that for certain. Witnesses thought they saw you leave, and that’s different. But those witnesses were in the nightclub, not the cloakroom corridor. You may not have left the building at all. A good killer is a smart killer, Mr Picton. But a bad killer leaves clues. Did you drop these glasses when you hurried out of Club Smart on Monday night?”

  “But I wasn’t even wearing those glasses! I haven’t seen them for days, weeks even…”

  Hogarth nodded and leaned back in his chai
r. “You had plenty of motive to want this man dead. And with clues like this popping up, it’s beginning to look like you could be our man.”

  “That clue didn’t just pop up,” said Picton. “Where did you find them?”

  “In the club. The cleaner says they were found under a table not far from where Drummond was stabbed. They could have been knocked off your face in the chaos after you stabbed him. Then they were kicked under the table when you were trying to make your getaway.”

  “I told you, I didn’t do it. You’re trying to frame me.”

  Hogarth shook his head. “Not me, Mr Picton. I’m just following the crumbs and I’ve got to say, this is a big one. I’d think about that if I were you. Call your solicitor if you like, but we’re finished here. You can go back to your cell now.”

  Picton looked more drained than ever. “What about Andy? Have you heard from him? Do you know where he is?”

  “I don’t think he wants us to find him. So, the answer is no. Things are getting worse for him every moment he stays off the radar. But if Andy Cruddas has information which could prove you innocent, you’d better get your thinking cap on. We need to find him. With your help, maybe we could.”

  “I don’t know where he is.”

  “That’s not good enough. Do you really want us to find him?”

  “Yes. To prove he didn’t do it either.”

  “If he’s not guilty why would he run?”

  “Because you’ll think he killed the man, it’s obvious.” Picton’s face was turning dark with fluster and emotion. Hogarth saw it and dropped another question laced with innuendo.

  “But why would I ever think that?”

  “Because Andy couldn’t pay him anymore, that’s why!” Picton snapped, and sat back in his chair, emptied of his emotion.

  Hogarth glanced at DS Palmer. When he looked back at Daniel Picton, the man was looking down at the interview room table.

  “That’s what we call progress, Daniel. And it also shows you were lying to us before. So, I think it’s time for a change of heart, don’t you? You scratch our backs and we might even scratch yours. If you’re going to talk, the time is now.”

  Picton stared at the spectacles in the plastic bag, then he met Hogarth’s eyes. He looked up and nodded slowly.

  “I’ll talk. But the only thing I can tell you is about the background. I don’t know how Jake Drummond died. Now, I’m not sorry he’s gone. Nobody who knew him could ever miss the man.”

  “No more shilly-shally. Start talking.”

  Picton gulped, knitted his eyes tight shut then started talking. The flow of words started to pour forth.

  “Drummond knew that Andy’s insurance business wasn’t working out. Not long back, when Andy started out in the game, he was stupid. You might say he was even a little boastful. He used to tell people how much he was going to make from this sale or that sale. When we were drinking, Andy used to say he was going to make a killing in insurance. He was always speaking about getting one of those big houses on the seafront at Thorpe Bay. I mean, it was actually a little ridiculous. It was the drink talking. How many insurance brokers do you know who live on millionaire’s row?”

  “I don’t know any millionaires at all, Mr Picton. On with the story.”

  “My point is, I think Jake Drummond heard those stories at the club – when Jake was giving it the big one.”

  “Bad news. So how did Drummond make his approach?”

  “It wasn’t that hard, really. Drummond already knew Andy in a roundabout way. The first time we both met him, he even seemed like a good man. He was helping Barbara, Andy’s mum, through her bereavement after she lost Andy’s dad in the accident.”

  Hogarth felt DS Palmer’s eyes latch onto his. But he ignored her and stayed in the moment.

  “And how did Jake Drummond help Andy’s mum exactly?”

  “It didn’t look like anything more than tea and sympathy. I guessed he was after marrying into her money, like some people do, but I never mentioned my thinking to Andy. But later, when we met the real Jake Drummond, I’m sure he must have figured it out. Wherever the man saw cash, he went for it, no matter who he hurt in the process.”

  “So, Drummond got into Andy. How did he turn the screws?”

  “The usual way these scumbags do. Threats of violence, which eventually turned into a beating. Once Andy gave him as good as he got. Just once.”

  “In Ryan’s Bar by any chance?”

  Picton was wrong footed. “How do you know about that. We thought it had been dealt with?”

  “It has been. Forget it. What happened after that?”

  “The next time we met Drummond, the big man battered Andy good and proper. I got hurt too just for being around. We were scared of him after that. We made sure we paid him on time. I paid him from my salary, Andy from his insurance earnings. But soon after that his business started to dry up. I blame Drummond. Without confidence a man can’t sell. Drummond broke Andy’s confidence. He couldn’t operate as a salesman anymore.”

  “But then you came up with the bright idea of importing ex-legal highs?” said Hogarth.

  Picton shook his head. “How would people like me and Andy come up with an idea like that? It was all Drummond’s idea. It was his idea that we pay the mules to bring it in, his idea that we stash it and then distribute it at the clubs and bars. It was all his idea, so he could watch us do the dangerous part while he took all the cream of the cash.”

  “He must have left you something for yourselves?”

  Picton’s eyes turned away. “A little compensation maybe. But it wasn’t worth the stress. I quit my job, just so I could keep an eye on it. I was forever terrified we’d be caught.”

  “How would good people like you and Andy ever end up doing something like that, eh? Let me tell you, in case you haven’t figured it out. People like you might think you’re the victims. But you make other victims too to save your skin. You’re actually not much better than Drummond, are you?”

  “We never hurt anyone.”

  “Wrong. You just don’t know who you hurt. That’s the only difference. Is that why Andy Cruddas ran and left you to take the flak? He didn’t want to face the rap for the drugs game?”

  Picton blinked. “I don’t know. I’d like to see him. To see if he’s okay. What if the person who killed Drummond hurt him too?”

  “People like you and Andy Cruddas strike me as the type who always prioritise their own survival above anything else. When we find him, we’ll let you know. Eventually. You got anything else to say, Daniel? No idea where he’s hiding?”

  The young man shook his head and averted his eyes.

  “Then thanks for your cooperation.”

  Hogarth opened the interview room door and called PC Jordan to take the man back to his cell. When Hogarth walked into the corridor, Palmer was keen to join him.

  “You got that, didn’t you?” said Hogarth.

  “It sounded genuine.”

  “And it had the ring of truth. He just exposed Old Mother Cruddas as a liar.”

  “She said she didn’t know Jake Drummond.”

  “Mr Tea and Sympathy, eh? Well, I know people have all kinds of hidden facets to their personality, but Jake Drummond strikes me as man who wouldn’t have given a rat’s backside for a woman’s grief. He wanted something from her. And I wonder if he got it. As for her, if she can lie about that, maybe she could lie about any number of things.”

  PCSO Rawlins had been loitering in the corridor near the interview room. Now the interview was finished, she approached Hogarth carefully.

  “Well, if it’s not our intrepid PCSO, Rebecca Rawlins.”

  Rawlins tried for a smile.

  “Did Picton tell you anything about Andy?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes. The good, the bad, and the ugly. You can have the edited and abridged version, Rawlins,” said Hogarth. “Andy Cruddas and Picton were importing and dealing so-called legal highs around Southend, maybe for months.” />
  Rawlins’ smile faltered. “No. That can’t be right.”

  “It isn’t right, but that’s what they were doing. He blames Drummond. Says Jake Drummond set them up in the business, so he could continue to extract money from them.”

  “I can believe that. Andy wouldn’t have harmed anyone through choice.”

  “But he was harming people, Rawlins. Dealing that stuff, deceiving you, now evading the police to save his own skin while his pal, Picton, is hung out to dry. And now we’ve found out his dear old mum has her share of secrets too.”

  “What?” said Rawlins.

  “Keep all this under your hat, Rawlins,” said Hogarth. “Right now, nothing these people do would surprise me. Come on, Palmer. Let’s go and pay another little visit to Mother Cruddas. It’ll be nice to hear what those cosy chats with Uncle Jake were all about.”

  Hogarth stuffed his hands in his pockets and breezed through the new open plan office where the uniforms and the PCSOs had their desks.

  “That man is a cynical old grouch,” said Rawlins.

  “Actually, this is the happiest I’ve seen him all day,” said Palmer.

  “Dawson reckons he’s got some kind of woman trouble. Like a girlfriend holed up somewhere.”

  “Someone he doesn’t want to tell people about? That would be a strange kind of girlfriend,” said Palmer. She looked away in case Rawlins saw something in her eyes.

  “With his mood swings it’s got to be love trouble. Either that or he’s hit the menopause.”

  Palmer rolled her eyes. “Actually, I think it’s the job, Bec. Just you wait. One day you’ll wonder why you ever wanted into the force.” Palmer turned away and started walking after Hogarth.

  “Some days, I still do…” whispered Rawlins, but Palmer was already gone.

  Chapter Thirteen

  When Barbara Cruddas opened her big burgundy front door, she tried hard to hide her displeasure. But she didn’t hide it quite well enough. Her polite smile wavered and her eyes turned stony. “Oh. You again. Have you heard anything about Andrew?”

  “As yet, no, Mrs Cruddas. Then you’ve heard nothing yourself?” said Hogarth.