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

by Solomon Carter

  He heard some loud music coming from the house. Ali didn’t like stuff like that. She was a thinker, a romantic, and an introvert. She liked peace and harmony. Hogarth sped up. Reaching the house, he moved to the edge of the big cinematic front window. He peered in through the net curtain, but saw nothing. There was a loud thud-thud-thud from inside. Hogarth knocked loudly on the door. “Ali! Ali!” He rang the doorbell. But there was no answer. Lastly, he moved to the side gate. Reaching over the top, he slid the sliding bolt and pulled the gate open and moved around the back patio. There was the kitchen window and the back door. He plunged the handle, once and then again. It didn’t budge. It was locked. Hogarth considered breaking the glass, but decided to knock once more. He knocked. Once. Twice. Three times. Still no answer. He stepped back into the garden, considering where best to strike the door to make sure it gave way. His eyes fixed on the door handle area and took aim. How the hell was he going to explain this one to Melford? And who bloody cared anyway? Hogarth started his short run up. In the very moment before he kicked the door in, he heard a window open and a female voice came to him from above.

  “Joe!” He looked up to see Ali. Her hair was tied back. Her cheeks were pink and glowing. “What are you doing here?”

  Like a guilty schoolboy caught in the act, Hogarth looked up at her without an explanation.

  “Just wait there,” she said. Don’t move.” She closed the window and disappeared.

  A minute later Ali appeared at the back door. She opened the door and looked at him. He took in her attire. She was in a black and pink Lycra leotard over a black body suit. He’d never seen her dressed like that, but Hogarth was the one who felt ridiculous.”

  “You really need to lock your gate, Ali…”

  “And you came here to tell me that?” she said.

  Hogarth shook his head and Ali smiled. Her eyes sparkled.

  “You came here to check up on me.”

  Hogarth nodded. “I saw movement inside. I heard loud music. Then banging. I thought the stalker had got in.”

  “I was doing my Bodyfit DVD.”

  “Oh, I see. That explains the, ah, the um, outfit, then.”

  “You weren’t supposed to see me in this,” said Ali. “Not ever,” she added with a grin.

  “Well. It’s very snug, isn’t it?” said Hogarth.

  Ali shook her head at him. “You shouldn’t’ have come here. James might even have the neighbours watching me.”

  “And now here I am watching you too.”

  “You? You watching I wouldn’t mind so much… “Ali stayed inside the doorway but beckoned Hogarth towards her with a grin. She stayed where she was just inside the doorway and when Hogarth came near she gently steered his face towards hers and they kissed. The kiss lasted long enough to tempt him further, but Ali seemed to sense it and broke away.

  “That’s because I know you care. But you mustn’t come back here like this. We can only meet away from here. If you want to check on me, please just drive by.”

  “I did drive by. I couldn’t see anything, thought something had happened…”

  “Please Joe, I’m fine. You’d better go.”

  Hogarth nodded. “Call me. Let’s organise something soon.”

  Ali gave him a smile which warmed his whole body and she squeezed his hand.

  “Fine. Now go…”

  She closed the door and waved at him from behind the glass. Hogarth lingered on the patio as she withdrew inside. He sensed movement somewhere nearby, and he glanced up and caught something in the window of the house next door. By the time he looked, all sign of movement was gone. The window was empty. Hogarth shook his head and walked away, closing and locking the gate behind him. He walked out to the street and looked around and saw nothing.

  When Hogarth got back in the car his eyes tracked over the front passenger seat. He saw his mobile phone lay on the seat, begging for a thief to take it. He saw the screen was bright with another missed call. Melford’s face filled his mind and he grabbed the phone. The call was from the nick, but there was no telling who from. As he looked at the number, the phone rang again.

  “I missed your call,” said Hogarth with a careful, cagey voice.

  “Sir. It’s Dawson. You wanted us to do a spot of digging about the incident at the SavaPenny store?”

  “Yes?” said Hogarth.

  “We’ve got something. I think you’ll want to hear this for yourself.”

  Something had come in. Hogarth prayed it was something good.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  “Where did you find her?” said Hogarth, the heels of his brogues thudding on the tiles as he walked past the reception desk at the station.

  “We were asking questions out front of the SavaPenny store,” said Dawson, walking at his side. “The store was closed of course, what with Marris and forensics being out back. But PCSO Rawlins knows plenty of the local characters from the communities around the Kingsmere and Talbot Estates. But to be honest, sir, we didn’t really find her… she came to us.”

  Hogarth could barely wait to reach the interview room. They had found a crack in the shell of the case which had threatened to never break. But with the national media spotlight now upon them there was still a chance the woman wasn’t who she claimed to be. Hogarth had needed to keep his feet on the ground. He could not afford another mistake with Melford scrutinising his every step

  “And do you know her?” said Hogarth.

  “No, sir. But Rawlins recognises her from night patrol on the seafront. Says she’s seen her face in the pubs.”

  Hogarth nodded. “Okay. Let’s see what we can make of this. Could you tell DS Palmer where I am. I’ll need her with me in there…”

  Dawson nodded and made off through the main office.

  Hogarth walked into interview room 1. He found a woman with shor,t peroxide-blonde hair drumming her fingers on the table. When she saw Hogarth come in, she didn’t stop. Instead she scratched at the table with her finger nail. Hogarth watched her for a moment, wondering if she knew he was there. She glanced up at him.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not damaging anything. Someone’s marked it. I’m trying to scratch it off. It’s like paint or something.”

  “Very considerate. Most people who come in here would prefer to wrap that table around our heads.”

  “But I came to see you…”

  “Apparently so. Davina. That’s your name, right?”

  “Davina Brooks. Yes.”

  “Hello Davina. I’m Detective Inspector Hogarth…”

  The door creaked open behind him and DS Palmer nodded as she entered the room.

  “And this is Detective Sergeant Sue Palmer. DS Palmer this is Davina Brooks. Apparently, she’s got something she’d like to tell us. You saw our officers outside the SavaPenny store this afternoon, didn’t you, Davina?” Hogarth pulled out a chair and sat himself down. Palmer followed suit.

  “That’s right. They were asking people if they knew anything about what happened there. The murder and all that. I walked past at first, because I knew something… but not about what happened when he was killed. I really didn’t know anything about that…”

  “Then what do you know about?” said Hogarth.

  The woman carried on picking at the table. She spoke hesitantly. “I didn’t want to stop. I wasn’t sure I was ready for all that.”

  “Ready for what exactly?” said Hogarth.

  “Ready to talk about what happened between me and Gary, the DJ.”

  Now the woman had his attention. Hogarth watched and waited.

  “What happened, Davina?”

  Hogarth watched the woman’s eyes tear up. She blinked and looked away. “

  “Davina. Miss Brooks,” said Hogarth. “Whatever you came here to say, please, now is the time to say it. Our resources are stretched, and we are working against the clock to prevent another killing. If there is something you know, you need to tell me now so that I can do something with it. Now please… what
do you know?”

  “I was there last Friday.”

  “Where, Davina? The SavaPenny?”

  “No. Club Smart,” she said, lifting her eyes to his. “And I was there again on Monday night.”

  “The night Jake Drummond was killed.”

  “The bastard…”

  “I don’t get it. What’s your relationship with Drummond? Was he blackmailing you too?”

  “No. I never met the man until last Friday night. And I never wanted to meet him ever again after that.”

  Hogarth nodded for her to go on.

  “I’d been talking with Gary Grayson, that night. We’d had a right laugh. He invited me up into the DJ booth with him and he even let me spin a couple of tunes. We had a few drinks. After that, he invited me behind the scenes. We had a good time. To cut a long story short, I let things go a bit further than they should have. He asked me to come with him for a walk.”

  “A walk,” said Hogarth. But he knew what she meant.

  The girl nodded. “I was drunk, so I went with him. We walked around the corner from the club and we got as far as the back of the shops when we started kissing. Which was okay, but then he was all over me like a rash.”

  “Gary Grayson?”

  “Yeah. And I should have stopped then, but I felt like I’d led him on. So, I felt obliged to go a little bit further. Before I know it, we’re… you know. We laid down behind the dustbins at SavaPenny…”

  Hogarth looked towards Palmer and she got the message. The interview was going into a sensitive area. Hogarth shifted back in his seat, and Palmer leaned close to take the mantle. “Davina, would you be more comfortable if we continued our chat without DI Hogarth in the room.”

  “It doesn’t bother me. He’s the one leading this thing, isn’t he?”

  “That’s right,” said Palmer.

  “Then he might as well stay. He needs to hear this.”

  “We were in the middle of it all when I heard someone coming towards us across the square. It put me right off. I tensed up and told Gary to stop, but he wouldn’t listen. He was drunk, and he was a bloke and he was too far gone. He told me I was imagining it, but I knew I wasn’t. Gary only stopped when the guy appeared behind him and called him out. The bloke called him, and Gary leapt off me and pulled his trousers up. I covered myself as best I could and crawled back to the bins, but everything happened so fast and I was drunk. But as soon as I saw the man I knew there was something dark about him. The way he looked at me, it wasn’t right.”

  “Who was it, Davina?” said Palmer.

  “It was the man who got killed before Gary did. The big sweaty, horrible monster of a man. Balding, yet hairy. Smelt of bad cologne and curry.”

  “You’re saying this man was Jake Drummond?” said Hogarth.

  “Yeah. That’s his name. I knew his ugly mug from the club that night, but only from a distance. Gary told him where to go, but he didn’t try too hard to chase him off. In fact, Gary looked scared of him. He threatened Gary, like a veiled threat. But Gary wasn’t having it at first. He argued back. But then the big man showed him something – I didn’t know what it was at first – but after that Gary changed. He didn’t argue any more. When Drummond snatched it back I saw it was a little white card. I don’t know for sure, but it was the shape and size of a photograph.”

  Hogarth glanced across at Palmer. She gave him the slightest nod of recognition. The photograph of the child found on Drummond’s body. So, it wasn’t his child after all. It was one of Grayson’s. Of course it was. The only photograph of a child Drummond was ever likely to carry was one he could use for blackmail.

  “Did you have any idea of what the photograph might have depicted?” said Palmer.

  “No. I’ve no idea.”

  “Then what?” said Hogarth.

  “Gary turned cold and he started walking away. I mean, he didn’t look back. He just walked away, and then this awful, sweaty, great big lumbering horror of a man came at me. I was cold and scared and half naked already. I had no chance. I tried to scream but he covered my mouth with his hand until he was done with me. I should have bit him, I should have fought back, but I was in pieces…”

  “To be clear, Miss Brooks. You were raped by Jake Drummond?” said Palmer.

  The woman nodded as tears ran down her cheeks.

  “I’m glad that man is dead.”

  “Did you ever see Gary after that? Did he ever mention wanting to get even with Drummond after that?” said Hogarth.

  “Oh, I saw him alright. But he wouldn’t look me in the eye. He knew what he’d abandoned me to.”

  “If Grayson was alive at this moment, I’d be utterly convinced that he killed Jake Drummond,” said Hogarth wearily.

  “But it wasn’t him,” said Davina Brooks. Hogarth shifted in his seat and looked at Palmer.

  “What? How do you know?” Hogarth’s heart started to race.

  “Drummond had covered my mouth… he had my head pressed to the floor, but I was awake and alert. I lived through every bloody second of what that man did to me. He pressed my face to the floor, so I had a good view of freedom. I could see through the gaps between the wheelie bins. I saw people walking past on the other side, drunk, shouting, happy and ignorant. They were all going about their business, but I saw one man wasn’t moving like the others. I saw him when it started, standing in the middle of the square. He was watching as Gary was walking away. He wore dark trousers, dark jumper, a hat or a hood, I wasn’t sure, but the radio said you were looking for a man like that and I knew it was him. He was looking my way that night. He couldn’t have seen what was happening, but he knew all right, and he did nothing either. I swear he knew what was going on. Just after Gary walked away so did he. He was after Gary then, I swear. That man… that man is your killer.”

  Hogarth stared at the woman, checking her face for lies. But her eyes backed it up.

  “And did you see him go?”

  “Eventually, I think he moved off, back towards the college and the high street I think.”

  “Towards Luker Close?” said Hogarth. “Where he went is important, Miss Brooks. It gives us a chance to work out where he came from.”

  “Yes… he went back towards Luker Close.”

  “Was he old or young, tall or short?”

  “I couldn’t say, detective. Tallish maybe. I was a little bit distracted at the time.”

  “Yes, of course you were. Can you think of anything else about the man? Anything at all?”

  “He was a white man. And he was looking straight towards us through those wheelie bins. Isn’t that enough?”

  “A tallish man…” Hogarth’s mind began to flip through the suspects in his head. Several faces came and went, but one lingered more than all the rest. “Tall…” said Hogarth. “Yes, that might just be enough… DS Palmer. Would you take the rest of Miss Brooks’ statement? There’s something I must attend to very urgently…”

  “Sir?” Palmer gave him a quizzical look, but Hogarth ignored it. He bolted up out of his seat and moved for the door. He paced back to the CID room. Simmons looked up at him from the CCTV images as he came in.

  “Where’s the file on the Drummond murder?” said Hogarth.

  “On Palmer’s desk. She’s been through it ten times over. Like I have with this.”

  Hogarth ignored Simmons, but Simmons kept talking. “There’s nothing new here. Nothing we haven’t seen before.” Hogarth rifled through the open files on Palmer’s desk until he found what he wanted. There between the notes, witness statements and reports from forensics and pathology, was the little white card they’d found on Drummond’s body. There was the child, small and pudgy with a little mole on its chin. It was held in a veiny white hand with a ring on the finger. Back then they had thought the hand belonged to Drummond. But they had been too quick to make assumptions. The hand was too thin, too hairless to belong to Drummond. And, as if a man like him could have ever loved a child! The villain was utterly self-centred to the las
t.

  “But I did notice one thing.”

  “Oh,” said Hogarth, almost absent-mindedly as he studied the photograph. He looked at the hand.

  “The shadow which crosses the screen… there’s like a little bit of light around the edge of it. Just at the back,” said Simmons.

  “Hmmmm,” said Hogarth. The ring. Now the photograph was important he needed to know about the ring. He should have recognised it. Had Grayson ever worn a ring like that?

  “The more I look at that shadow, the more convinced I am that his head is reflecting light from the bar… if I’m right, sir, that guy would have to be bald or shaven-headed.”

  Hogarth looked up from the photograph.

  “What?” he said.

  “Sir?” said Simmons, taking note of the determined energy on Hogarth’s face as he studied the image. “I think the man in the image here is bald. The shadow we’ve been looking at all this time. If he’s the killer, our man is shaven-headed or bald.”

  “You’re sure?” said Hogarth.

  “After staring at this screen, I’m not sure of anything anymore. But I’d wager I’m right.”

  Hogarth’s eyes flicked left and right. Yes, it fitted with his latest thinking. Tall. Bald or shaven-headed… but something didn’t fit. What about the photographs? The children. Hogarth couldn’t afford to be wrong again. “Good work, Simmons. Check again. I want you to be doubly sure about this.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “We’re close, Simmons, very close. PCSO Rawlins met with Gary Grayson shortly before he died. Rawlins said she saw a photograph of a woman with children lying on his office floor. It fell out of his jacket in the office at the club. We need to find that photograph, Simmons. Do we have Grayson’s belongings or are they with forensics?”

  “Marris and forensics still have them, sir.”