“For money. For the business,” said Flount. “It’s not hard to think of motives. I’ve thought of those already.”
Grant Dawn finished his beer.
“She’s right,” said Grant. “Emily’s a strategist. We need your help to take it to the next level. To find out who actually did it.”
“So you need a policeman, do you? Your best bet is to come out of hiding and get someone to look at that Capri. What have you got to gain by holing up out here and letting everyone think you’re dead?”
Hogarth looked at Flount and Dawn. The woman looked to Grant Dawn to answer.
“Because someone did try to kill me, Inspector. If I stay dead, that person will think they’ve succeeded. I think it should be fairly easy to spot the gloating scumbag who thinks they’ve beaten me, don’t you? If I come out, they could even try it again. Who’s to say I’d live next time they tried?”
Hogarth nodded. There was a logic to that. An extreme one.
“If you decide to let everybody think you’re dead, Mr Dawn, you’ll have real problems when you suddenly come back to life.”
“Such as?”
“Legal problems, for one.”
“All I want is to delay the news of my survival. Not hide it forever.”
“Delay? Delay for how long?”
“Until it becomes obvious who tried to kill me and that shouldn’t take long. I’m pulling out all the stops here. With your help I should manage it far sooner.”
Hogarth sighed.
“Who else knows your whereabouts out here?”
“Most of them know I have a lock-up somewhere or other. Sabine really hasn’t paid any interest, but they all knew I kept a spot. It’s on paper somewhere. But no one knew that I was actually here. Everyone else still thinks I was killed in the Capri. That’s the beauty of it.”
Hogarth eyed Simmons. The young DC looked distracted and pale. Hogarth guessed he would be having words with his father right after he was dropped off at home. If DC Simmons didn’t fancy facing up to his old man, Hogarth would gladly oblige. This situation wasn’t a poison chalice. It was a crock of the proverbial.
“Come on then, Mr Dawn. Who killed you? I take it you must have a theory to have dragged us this far into it.
“No theories, just a burning need to find the scumbag and look them in the eye. But I can tell you who it might be. Brett Reville… Yvette George, though I doubt it frankly. Or as much as I don’t like the idea, there’s a real chance it could be my wife.”
“Why would any of them want to kill you”
“Brett works for me. He’s the envious type, about as green as you can get. He’s jealous of my success and of my lifestyle, though he still thinks I haven’t cottoned on. I kept him on because he’s good with numbers and ideas, and he’s very savvy with marketing. The good thing about Brett is that he’s always ready to take on more work. But I’ll admit, I’ve come to like watching him squirm around me. I’m sure Brett would love to see me disappear, but I never thought he’d ever have the guts to do something like this…”
“Brett Reville?”
“Yeah. My company manager, the mover and shaker and money man. That’s how he sees himself. I see Brett as a necessary evil. If he wasn’t putting in the man hours to keep my clients happy, I’d be doing it all myself.”
“Yvette…?”
“Yvette George. She’s my office admin. The voice on the phone, the name at the foot of emails. She’s reliable. But even reliable types have ambitions, I suppose. She and Brett started dating back at the end of last year. It made me trust her a little less, I have to admit.”
“And your wife? Why would you ever suspect your wife?”
“Sabine? As Emily has alluded to, Sabine likes her wine. She always loved a glass of wine and it was never a problem between us. But these days, it seems to have become an essential crutch. I knew she wasn’t happy… I just didn’t think I was the cause, not until last night.”
“You really think your wife could have—”
“Inspector, she’s not happy. She’d get the business, the house, all my liquid assets, she’d get the lot. Of course, if that was Sabine’s intention, I’ve messed up those plans royally.”
“Why?”
“As a precaution, I’ve withdrawn the bulk of the cash, which means Emily will be able to see how Sabine reacts, won’t she? Money talks and all that.”
Hogarth frowned. “You withdrew money as a precaution. A precaution against what?”
“A precaution against losing it to another cash flow shortage. The money was in the business, but it was set aside as the war chest. I had a feeling something was coming, I just didn’t know what. Maybe I’d lose it in a cash flow crisis, or something. I acted on a hunch.”
“Does your wife have reason to kill you, Mr Dawn?”
“Look,” said Dawn. “I’m a jerk. And I lecture Sabine a lot – but we’re married. Who doesn’t lecture their spouses half to death? They put it in the marriage vows, don’t they?”
“They may as well, from what I hear,” said Hogarth.
Hogarth smacked his lips and looked between Dawn and Emily while he considered what he had heard.
“Do you want my opinion, Mr Dawn.”
“I let you in, didn’t I?”
Hogarth nodded. “Yes. Not sure if that was so wise myself, but there we are. My honest opinion… is that this is madness. Utter madness. But here – I’ll do you a favour and pretend I’ve never heard of you and have never met you in my life – provided you come forward and get this charade over with as soon as possible. If someone did try to kill you, it’ll become apparent soon enough whether you hide in this bunker or go home and face it.”
“I can’t do that, Inspector,” said Dawn.
“Excuse me?” said Hogarth.
“You can’t just bail out on us,” said Emily Flount. “We told you everything. Grant needs your help. Someone tried to kill him, didn’t you get it?”
Hogarth threw his hands out at his sides and shrugged. “This is a mess. But dragging a policeman into some half-baked scheme like this will just make things worse for everyone—”
“Inspector Hogarth. Someone tried to kill me. All I’m asking for is your help to identify who that might be.”
“That’s police work,” said Hogarth. “Or at the very least, it’s a job for a PI. I can’t take it on.”
Grant Dawn sighed. He strode across to his corner desk and opened a drawer. He pulled out a couple of batches of red bank notes and laid them on the desk top.
“Inspector. I can make it worth your while. This would be a down payment.”
“Which makes this whole debacle even more risky. The answer is no.”
“If that’s your final answer…” Dawn put the cash away and locked the drawer.
“It’s the only one I can give,” said Hogarth.
“Damn it,” said Dawn. He rubbed the back of his neck. His face turned red as he looked at DC Simmons.
“Your father said you could help me. What kind of help is this? You might as well go.”
Hogarth nodded. “Good idea, Mr Dawn.”
Hogarth started to turn away for the door.
“Just one thing, Inspector. Give me a little time to get this done. You don’t have to tell anyone you’ve seen me right away, do you?”
“I was never here, Mr Dawn. But if you don’t come back to life and tell all soon, let’s just say you’ll have forced my hand. I’ll have to say something before it comes out. Understood?”
“I’m beginning to wish old Max Simmons had kept his mouth shut in the first place.”
“That makes two of us,” said DC Simmons.
Emily Flount put down her beer bottle on the side shelf with a thud of disapproval.
“I’ll show you the way out,” she said. The alluring smile had dropped from her face, but her eyes still shone brightly enough. Hogarth couldn’t help noting that her new moody air didn’t make her any less attractive. On the contrary, he had o
ften liked a woman with a sullen streak. Liv Burns was the latest woman to prove it. It seemed he was a glutton for punishment.
Flount strode along between them, leading the way. When she reached the door, she turned to face both men, hesitating a moment before she opened the door.
“Grant really didn’t need another problem. He’s a good man,” she said. “Please. Just help him. If you do, all of this could be over in no time and we’d know who did it.”
The woman looked at each of them, her eyes working on each in turn.
“Miss Flount,” said Hogarth.
“Emily,” said the woman, leaving the door shut.
“Emily,” said Hogarth. “Much as I’d like to help, I can’t.”
“You won’t, more like,” she said.
“It amounts to the same thing,” said Hogarth, “But in any case, I wish you luck. Grant’s got money. Tell him to hire a PI. I know a couple of half-good ones if he gets stuck.”
The woman tutted. “You think we haven’t thought of that already? We want this over with. You could have helped.”
“I could have, but I’d like to keep my job,” said Hogarth. “It’s not the best job in the world, but it pays the rent. Enjoy your weekend, Miss Flount. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
The woman left the door closed behind her. Hogarth reached past her and pulled at the latch. The woman leaned her weight against the door for another moment, until Hogarth used more force to pull it open. He opened a gap and Simmons slid away out into the breezy air. Hogarth pulled the door wider and put one foot outside but Emily Flount stayed her ground, partly blocking his way. As he moved past, he felt the draw of her eyes. She was close, just as she intended. Her perfume filled his nostrils, her warm breath touching his neck. Hogarth blinked.
“It’d be good if you could change your mind,” she said.
Hogarth found his heart beating too hard for comfort. He smiled at the woman and shook his head before he slid away into the cool air beyond. But there was no mistaking the reaction of his body or the pounding of his heart. It was dangerous to be near a woman like that. Who knew what kind of stupid things a man was capable of in such company?
“Come on, Simmons…” he said, scrupulously avoiding the younger man’s eyes. “Let’s get out of here.”
“You know where we are,” said the female voice behind them. Hogarth couldn’t resist glancing back. He saw the woman through the gap in the door before she was eclipsed with a slam. Yes, she was dangerous, that one. Hogarth told himself it was a near miss.
“Chances are my old man will give me a reprimand for disappointing him again.”
“You have any bother with dear old Max and I will gladly put him in his place, okay, Simmons? Your old man was bang out of order.”
“But she on the other hand,” said Simmons. “She was amazing. Guv? Do you think there’s anything in it?” said Simmons as they got into the car.
“What do you mean?” said Hogarth.
“The sabotage. The attempted murder. Do you think it’s true?”
“Hard to say,” said Hogarth. He sighed, pushing away the feeling of those eyes and that breath on his neck.
“Aren’t you the least bit intrigued, guv?”
“The truth, Simmons? Yes. Yes I am.” Though Hogarth suspected they were talking about entirely different things.
“It’d be interesting to take one little look, don’t you think, eh?” said Simmons. “You must be at a loose end… It’s Saturday after all…”
Hogarth looked at Simmons. He frowned and started the engine. But a sense of intrigue was gnawing at him too. But maybe it was the kind of intrigue DS Liv Burns might not have approved.
Five
Hogarth’s interest had been roused. Nothing unusual or untoward in that, was there? It was no different to how a betting man could be seduced by a race preview on the telly. Or a pothead hearing about a nice bit of draw doing the rounds. No harm in checking it out, was there? Just to satisfy his idle curiosity. But the woman couldn’t be allowed to come into the equation. Not as a motive nor as a distraction. Emily Flount was as dangerous as a cut-throat razor. But she was hard to forget all the same.
Simmons was still waiting for his answer, goading Hogarth with a smile, much as he had done the whole journey back to Southend. Hogarth couldn’t decide whether Simmons was afraid of disappointing his stern old dad or was just as juvenile as he was when it came to a mystery and a good-looking woman. But Hogarth didn’t want to seem juvenile. Instead he played the wise old sage, but it was all an act.
“We shouldn’t get involved with it,” he said. “None of it. It’s preposterous for a start. And it’s deadly from a career point of view. If it gets found out that we knew Grant Dawn was alive while the rest of the world believed him dead, there’d be trouble ahead and plenty of it.”
They drove along the London Road, watching the city boy commuters strolling around in the weekend uniforms of coloured hoodies and cardigans with crisp blue jeans and canvas pumps. Men his age who paid to dress like imitation teenagers.
“But nobody can say he’s actually dead yet, can they? The man’s missing, that’s all.”
“If he fell into that stinking river in the dead of night, everyone will already be drawing their own conclusions. The insurance company might even be involved already, which is a risk in itself. We don’t want to get caught up in an insurance fraud situation.”
“But tempting to take a look though, isn’t it?” said Simmons.
“At which part?” said Hogarth, raising an eyebrow. Simmons wasn’t on the same wavelength.
“The looking into it part. Who might have sabotaged the man’s car? I mean, that really couldn’t hurt, could it?”
Hogarth ran his fingers over the surface of the steering wheel, distracting himself with the leathery texture as he came to a decision.
“You really are a one, aren’t you, Simmons?”
“My dad seems to think so,” said Simmons.
“Self-pity won’t do you any favours with me.”
“Come on, guv. Think of it as a bit of sport. What else have you got on today?”
“What’s it to you?” said Hogarth. Simmons waited for his answer and Hogarth knew he was stuck.
“I was planning a pie and a pint at the Naval. Maybe followed by a chaser and a newspaper. I’ve got a day off, that’s what it’s for.”
“For wasting in a social club for retired sailors?”
“Sampling the local culture actually, Simmons. I know a lot more about your home town than you’ve known in your whole life.”
“I don’t know anyone apart from you who drinks in that club.”
“That’s probably a good sign. Why? What were you planning to do? Go down the arcades with your pocket money?”
“Actually… I haven’t got any plans today. Not anymore. We could look into it, guv. Just a quick nosy, eh?”
Hogarth felt a small prickle of excitement but managed to hide it behind his gruff exterior. He eyed Simmons like a stupid boy and gave a sigh of indulgence.
“Maybe we could take a discreet and very brief look into the situation. Just so we can see what Mr Dawn was trying to pull by involving us. Knowing the full story might be interesting.”
Simmons’s eyes sparkled. Hogarth winced.
“Fine,” said Hogarth. “Seeing as you’re the one who’s so bloody keen, you tell me where we should start.”
“Easy,” said Simmons. “We should visit the wife. Sabine.”
“And then what?” said Hogarth. “We just drop by and say, sorry your husband’s missing, but we’d like to investigate your family tragedy for kicks.”
“Guv. I’ve heard you blag better than that ten times before lunch on a Monday morning.”
“Careful, Simmons. It might be your day off, but I’ll remember comments like that.”
“You’re interested though. Admit it.”
“I don’t have to admit anything. This is your farce. Your father dumped it i
n your lap, not mine. If you want to poke around for a little while, I suppose I can give you some company, make sure you don’t get yourself in too much hot water.”
Simmons grinned. Hogarth turned the car down one of the Westcliff sideroads.
“Where are we going?” said Simmons.
“Out of town. Here.” He tossed Simmons his mobile phone. “Get on the internet and find out where Grant Dawn lives.”
“Couldn’t we just call him?”
“I haven’t got his number. And I wouldn’t call him if we did. We’re staying clear of trouble, okay? We’re just having a little poke around. One thing’s for sure. If the man’s got money he won’t live anywhere near the centre of Westcliff or Southend…”
***
Hogarth stopped short of the house in question. Simmons had performed a search via Companies House and found two possible addresses were listed. One belonged to an accountancy practice based in Rayleigh, the other was a street address in Rochford. One of the bigger, more countrified streets as it turned out. The houses on Longacre Road, Rochford were spacious and set well back from the roadside by large drives and front gardens. Between the well decorated detached houses, flat agricultural fields and the local airport could be seen in the distance. Hogarth got out of the car and slid his hand through his hair. He buttoned his jacket. Simmons shut the passenger door and gave him a look.
“These people are money, Simmons. And she’ll be grieving. We’ve got to look the part, at least.”
“What are we going to tell her?”
“I’m working on it. Got any ideas?” said Hogarth.
Simmons looked blank. Hogarth rolled his eyes.
“No. I didn’t think so. Just follow me and keep in step with whatever I say, okay?”
Hogarth walked past the first few houses, suddenly regretting the idiocy of what they were about to do. But the ball was in motion. He couldn’t pull out now without looking even more of a fool. And so long as he was careful there would be no repercussions. No trouble at all, so he hoped.
As Hogarth led the way past the tall privet hedge of number 424 Longacre Road, he heard voices and slowed his pace on instinct. Voices – male and female – and they seemed agitated. Instinctively, Hogarth stopped, turned and pressed a hand against Simmons’ chest to slow him down. Simmons stopped. He heard the voices too and they both tuned in to listen.
The Secret Dawn Page 5
