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

by Solomon Carter

  “What we did?” said Picton, making a face.

  “I meant the drugs, not the murder…” said Rawlins. “If we find him, you can coordinate your stories better. Make it work. As it stands, if you go down separately, it looks bad for each of you. Your excuses look exactly that. They’ll throw the book at you, I know it.”

  “So Bec, are you a friend, or a cop?”

  “I’m both, so you’d better hear me, Dan. In this place I’m the only friend you’ll ever have. Those glasses of yours. How did they end up in the club?”

  “I don’t know, exactly. I thought it was you lot, trying to set me up.”

  Bec shook her head. “Hogarth’s an old fox, but he would never do that. None of us would. But we think someone could have tried that… someone who had access to those glasses.”

  “Honestly, it could have been anyone, Bec. They were my spares. My old glasses. I took them out sometimes because I was worried I’d lose my only good ones. It looks like I lost the spares instead. I must have dropped them in the club at some point.”

  “And you didn’t notice?”

  “I’m long-sighted, Bec. Sometimes, if I’m feeling brave, or if I see a girl I like the look of, I take the glasses off. I can get by without them. I’ve done that a few nights at Club Smart. I guess I must have dropped them one night after a few bevvies.”

  “And you didn’t ever notice they were missing?”

  “Not really. I knew I couldn’t find them, but so what? Half the time I can’t find my car keys and they always turn up. I was sure they’d turn up again. But not like that.”

  Bec Rawlins nodded and offered him a smile. “Okay, Dan. That makes sense.”

  He seemed encouraged.

  “Now,” she said. “You’ve got to tell me all the places where Andy could be.”

  “I’ve got to, have I?”

  “Stop it, Dan. This is me. It looks like I’m the only friend you’ve got. I can help you, but only if you help yourself…”

  Picton looked at her for a long moment before he started talking.

  “Okay. I think I know a couple of places. But I’m just guessing, Bec. I don’t know…”

  “That’s a start.”

  A minute later, Hogarth walked in carrying a plastic cup of water.

  He looked at Picton, then at Rawlins. The PCSO turned her head.

  “Have a nice little chat, did we?” said Hogarth.

  “Yes, we did. And I think I know where we need to go.”

  A gleam appeared in Hogarth’s eyes. He nodded at Rawlins.

  “Good work. Come on then, Rawlins. Let’s shake a leg.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The first address Picton supplied belonged to Andy Cruddas’s girlfriend, Amy Carlton. But when they arrived, they soon found that Amy had since shacked up with a new man with tattoos all over his bare arms. He looked like a Hells Angel on his day off, and as though he could have eaten Andy Cruddas as a mid-morning snack.

  “We broke up a while back,” said the girl. “How long would you say?” she asked, looking back at her tattooed boyfriend.

  “Weeks,” said the guy with the tattoos. The monosyllabic response looked about as much as the man could handle. And it seemed Amy had gone off the Cruddas type in a big way.

  The next address was Cruddas’s business address. They hadn’t tried it yet, which was a definite flaw in the investigation so far, but Hogarth knew why. When they’d called his office, the receptionist where Cruddas worked had said she hadn’t seen him for days. They had taken the response at face value, but they couldn’t do so any longer. Simmons called the estate agent and found that the office keys had been handed in back when Cruddas’s new insurance business started to fail. But when they arrived outside the blue corrugated shell of the shared-occupancy business hub in Shoebury, Hogarth, Rawlins, and Palmer noticed that some other units were empty too. There were plenty of big TO LET signs hoisted up on timbers in the car park.

  “Andy Cruddas’s office was in here then. You ever been here before, Rawlins?” said Hogarth.

  “No. We were only pals outside of work. I never had any reason to be here.”

  Hogarth studied the layout of the building. It was shaped like a back-garden bomb shelter. With a horseshoe domed roof.

  “Well, if he’s in there I doubt he’ll see us coming until we’re inside. Let’s go.”

  They walked in and found a stout woman standing behind a reception desk. She was flicking through some papers, and looked up as they approached.

  “DI Hogarth, DS Palmer from Southend CID. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions? About one of your ex-tenants here…”

  “Ex-tenants?”

  “Yes, specifically Andy Cruddas. The young insurance salesman.”

  “Him? Oh. He wasn’t with us long He lasted about six months I think.”

  “And you’ve not seen him lately?”

  “Nope. Not at all.”

  “What about his office? Have you re-let it to someone else?”

  “Not yet. We haven’t had many enquiries lately, to be honest. They say businesses are holding back on their commitments, what with this Brexit business…”

  Hogarth wasn’t in the mood for small talk.

  “Would you mind if we looked at his old office?”

  “Why? What has Andy done?”

  “Maybe nothing. That’s what we’re here to look at. If you don’t mind…” Hogarth opened his hand for the key but the big woman picked a key off a wall rack and kept it in her own hand.

  “It’s okay. I’ll take you there myself. Come through…”

  The woman walked them upstairs and through a set of narrow corridors until they reached a small dead-ended corridor, built with flimsy looking partition walls and wooden doors.

  “This is it. Room 16a. It used to be one room, but they split 16 into two so the smaller businesses could afford the rent…”

  She was still speaking as she opened the door into a dim windowless office. Hogarth peered inside and forced his way through.

  “He’s not here, as you can see,” said the receptionist.

  Hogarth didn’t respond. His eyes poked around the dim browns and shadowy creams of the interior. There was still furniture in the room, mostly kicked across to one end. A wall unit. A desk turned up on its side. A chair with wheels, and a cheese plant that hadn’t been watered for weeks.

  “Wait a second…” said Hogarth. He looked at Palmer and Rawlins, and put a finger to his lips. His eyes trailed back towards the mound of furniture at the back of the room. There was something sticking out from behind the plant pot and the wall unit. Hogarth almost didn’t notice, and even when he did, the shape might well have been a piece of office equipment, shiny and black. Or it could have been a shoe.

  “What are you doing?” said the woman from reception, as Hogarth advanced quietly. He feared the worst, wondering if he was going to find a body. But when he got very close, the figure of a man sprang up from the floor. Andy Cruddas got ready to charge past Hogarth like a fleeing rabbit.

  “Mr Cruddas!” said the woman, shocked. She jumped back and away from him as he charged at her. Palmer put herself into the doorway. Hogarth reached out, seized the man by his arm and dragged him back into the centre of the room. He came face to face with the man. Curly-haired, wild-eyed, and thin. His breath smelt like he hadn’t seen a toothbrush in days.

  “Calm yourself, Andy Pandy. We’ve been looking for you.”

  He struggled, and Hogarth added a little force into his grip.

  “Andy! You need to calm down,” said Bec.

  “Listen to her, son. None of this is helping you, believe me…”

  Cruddas stopped squirming, but Hogarth kept a tight grip. He didn’t trust the man not to make another run. And now that he had him, he wasn’t going to lose him again. With Andy Cruddas found, things were just beginning to get interesting…

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Hogarth didn’t arrest Andy Cruddas on the spot, even tho
ugh protocol and common sense said he should have. If he’d played it by the book, he would have nicked the fella every time. But Hogarth was aiming to pack his dynamite in just the right way. And in his career, he’d learned that an occasional gamble could pay off handsomely. With Andy Cruddas in his hand, he felt it was the right time to make a play. But he needed to get rid of Rawlins first. PCSO Rawlins had helped him catch the man, granted – but her raw emotions were a risk again. Hogarth drove Rawlins back to the centre of town and dropped her on Victoria Avenue not far from the police station. She got out and realised Hogarth had no intention of sending Cruddas with her.

  “Sir? Where are you taking him?” she asked as she got out of the car.

  “Don’t you worry. I’ll bring Mr Cruddas here back for tea and biccies by three o’clock. Then we can all get cosy together.”

  “Sir?” Hogarth closed the electric window of his Insignia and looked at the young man’s big eyes in the rear-view mirror. The doors were locked. Cruddas was secure enough. Palmer sat in the front passenger seat at Hogarth’s side.

  “You’re not going to arrest me?” said Cruddas.

  “All in good time, dear boy,” said Hogarth. He glanced across at Palmer and saw she seemed unperturbed by his break with protocol. Either she’d already worked out his next move, or was getting dangerously familiar with his errant ways.

  Cruddas hissed and yanked at the door when the saloon rolled up beside the grand driveway of his family home.

  “What’s the matter, Andy? You and mummy had a falling out?”

  “Of course not. But you shouldn’t do this to her. She’s been through enough.”

  “I’m sure she has. In fact, I’m convinced of it. But just think. Won’t it be a relief to see her little boy home safe. Come on, Andy. Let’s make your mother happy. But I’m warning you, try and run on me, I won’t go easy when I get hold of you again.”

  Hogarth pulled the man out of the backseat and gripped his wrist, steering him towards the garden path of his family home. Cruddas slackened and became compliant.

  “How did you manage to stash yourself in that building without being seen?” said Palmer as they walked.

  “Doreen…” said Cruddas. “The woman on reception. She’s lazy. Very lazy. She opens up the doors at eight and then drifts about downstairs all day, drinking tea. I was almost able to come and go as I pleased.” He spoke with a hint of juvenile pride.

  “You had a spare key cut for your office door, right?” said Hogarth.

  Cruddas shrugged.

  “I still don’t get it…” said Cruddas, as Hogarth pressed the doorbell and the deep chime sounded through the house. “Why are we here?”

  They watched through the glass as the wide shape of Mrs Cruddas came shuffling towards the front door. When she opened it, her mouth dropped wide open. She looked at Hogarth, Palmer, and her son, before tears welled up from her eyes and slid down her cheeks.

  “Andrew. My dear Andrew. Are you well…?”

  The young man stiffened as his mother lashed her hefty arms around his neck.

  “Go on, Andy! She’s your mother. Hug her back,” said Hogarth, shaking his head. He waited for the hysteria to die down, then the woman parted from her son, wiped her eyes and regarded Hogarth with a more restrained air. “Thank you for finding my son… but is there anything more we have to discuss?” she said.

  “Oh, yes, Mrs Cruddas. We have much, much more. May we come in?”

  The woman’s face turned stiff, and her eyes flicked away.

  “If you think it’s necessary…”

  “Oh, it’s necessary alright” said Hogarth.

  “Can I get you a cup of tea?” said the woman.

  Hogarth shook his head.

  “Do you know why we’re here, Mrs Cruddas?”

  “You brought me my son. That has to be the reason.”

  “It’s one good reason. But there is something else. Can you think what it might be?”

  The woman and the son met each other’s eyes. Hogarth studied their gaze. He picked at it. There was something weighty in the woman’s eyes. But Cruddas just looked like a frightened young man. A man who knew he was in deep trouble.

  “Last time we came here, you confessed something to us,” he said

  The woman’s face flushed.

  “Inspector, do you really feel the need to humiliate me in front of my son?”

  “I’m afraid when we’re in pursuit of justice, we’re not at liberty to keep secrets, madam. Especially when those secrets could be connected to a murder.

  “Secrets? Murder?” said Cruddas, frowning. He knitted his hands in his lap, clamping them between his knees like a schoolchild.

  “Connected to a murder! Come on!” said the woman. “You must see by now that neither Andrew nor myself could have any connection to the murder of Jake Drummond…”

  The son’s eyes snapped towards his mother in surprise.

  “The truth, Mrs Cruddas, is I know no such thing. And that’s exactly why I came here today. To establish the facts around your dealings with Jake Drummond.”

  “Jake Drummond?” said Andy Cruddas, with a tone of disbelief. “What dealings could my mother have ever had with him?”

  “You remember him, don’t you, dear? He came here to the house after your father died.”

  “I never realised that Dad even knew such crooks… I remember now, he lingered around here for a little while before I got to know him. Then he stopped coming.”

  Hogarth watched the woman squirming. She avoided his eyes.

  “Your father had to deal with all kinds of people, in his business. Even people like Jake Drummond.”

  “I remember him here,” said Cruddas, drifting through his memories. “He was always quiet back then. I thought he was a friend of yours. Until I met him elsewhere, but he had stopped visiting you by then. If I had known what he was like, I would have warned you to keep away from him. That man was evil. Mum, you really don’t know what a lucky escape you had.”

  The woman stayed silent, but now she met Hogarth’s eyes. Hogarth nodded for her to go on.

  “Andrew…” she said., slowly, like her throat hurt. “If I had known that you had been dealing with him…” she said, struggling, “I would have been the one to warn you.”

  “What?” said Andy.

  The woman’s face contorted with pity and shame. Her face turned red as beetroot.

  “He never came here as my friend, Andrew. I know you must have believed he was trying to woo me. Trying to jump into your father’s shoes. But that wasn’t the case, either.”

  “What then? Oh no. Don’t tell me he was bullying you, too? Blackmailing you? The bastard just couldn’t help himself. They think I killed him, didn’t they, that’s why I stayed away. I didn’t do it, but I’m glad he’s dead. But what could he have possibly had on you? A bereaved widow…”

  “Yes, Andy. I must say that part intrigued me, too…” said Hogarth.

  “You’re a very cruel man, Inspector Hogarth.”

  “It’s nothing to do with being cruel, Mrs Cruddas. I want the complete truth, the full story from both of you. And this might be the only way to get it.”

  Andy Cruddas looked tense and fragile.

  “Mother? You know what we did, don’t you?” said Andy.

  Tears filled the woman’s eyes “He broke you. He broke your business and forced you into the drug trade…”

  “It sounds so foolish when you say it like that, doesn’t it? So pathetic. But it’s true. We were scared. He promised to let us alone if we did it. And he made it all sound so simple. But once we were doing it, he even used the business against us. The business he forced us to set up, he bled every penny from it while we took the risks…

  “He did the very same thing to your father…”she said, quietly.

  “What?” said Andy Cruddas again.

  “He broke your father’s business, and once that was done, your father took the only route left available to him. It was the
only way he could see that would finish it permanently. But Drummond turned even that into the ultimate blackmail.”

  “Mum… what are you saying?”

  Andy Cruddas looked at Hogarth and Palmer for help as his mother stayed silent. They looked back at her.

  “Mum, please… are you saying Jake Drummond was responsible for Dad dying? I never knew the business was failing… why? Because Jake Drummond was blackmailing him! I don’t believe it. Blackmailing him over what?!”

  “I’m sorry, Andrew. I never wanted you to be hurt like this.”

  “Hurt like what? I don’t understand what you’re saying. Please, just say it… Say it! What did Drummond do to dad? What did he have on him?”

  “I’m sorry… But your father strayed from me. He had an affair, Andrew. In fact, he had more than one.”

  Andy Cruddas sat in wide-eyed silence. “No… I don’t believe he’d do that… he just wouldn’t.”

  The woman met her son’s eyes.

  “Yes, Andrew. He did. And for a while, your father kept the awful man quiet by paying him off. I only learned of it when the money began to dry up. That’s when it all came out.”

  “When?”

  “Just over two years ago.”

  “Drummond?! Drummond is the one responsible for Dad’s death? He broke him. He killed him!”

  “No,” said Hogarth. “That’s not it at all, is it, Mrs Cruddas?”

  “Like I said, you’re a cruel man.”

  “A case of pot and kettle, Mrs Cruddas…” said Hogarth.

  “What’s he on about?” said Andy. “My father was killed in a car crash on the M25, two years ago. It was in the news. It was horrific, how dare you use that against us!”

  “Yes. It was deeply horrific. Your father’s car was burnt to a cinder, and they found no remains. It went up like napalm, so they said. But they found the remains of others alright. The poor buggers caught up in that crash when the car spun out of control.”

  “How dare you!” said Andy Cruddas.

  “Andrew…” came his mother’s frail voice. “Andrew, listen to me. The truth is coming out, so you have to hear it from me. Just promise you’ll forgive us, will you. We did it all for you.”