The Secret Dawn

by Solomon Carter

  Hogarth saw the disapproval on Palmer’s face. “I’m not talking about burying it forever, Palmer. I’m talking about getting our own house in order and picking our time. Besides, it only happened last night. Melford’s bound to be paranoid and defensive. We’ve got to let him think he’s off the hook. Then we act.”

  Simmons looked down at his shoes. Palmer glanced at Simmons, and then at Hogarth.

  “Sorry, guv. No matter what problems we’re dealing with, I don’t think we should look the other way.”

  “Look the other way? So, that’s what I’m doing is it? Come on, Sue. We’d spoken about the DCI before Simmons saw anything.”

  “So you knew?” said Simmons, incredulous.

  “Knew is stretching it a bit,” said Hogarth, “but he had me wondering. He’s been so strung out, giving everyone rollickings left, right and centre, taking so many phone calls. Then there was the stuff about threats to local businesses. It all sounded a bit odd for my liking.”

  Simmons blinked at him.

  “Don’t you start on me now,” said Hogarth. “You’ve got me in enough trouble as it is. I was going to deal with this myself in my own time, in my own way.”

  “I don’t see how you can, sir,” said Simmons.

  “I said I’ll handle it,” said Hogarth.

  Palmer looked at him. “You shouldn’t handle this yourself.”

  “Thanks for your opinion, but unless I’m mistaken, I think I have seniority on this team.”

  Palmer’s mouth twitched at the rebuke. She exchanged a glance with Simmons.

  “Hold up,” said Hogarth, raising his hands. “Before you go all Mutiny on the Bounty on me, just back off for a day or two. Melford already suspects that I’m onto him. And as for how we play this, I’ll decide. Agreed? And don’t expect me to give you updates at every turn. If this does turn out to be a matter for the IOPC or the Directorate, I’ll handle it myself. You really don’t want to get involved in this unless you have to. It’s a dirty business that can ruin entire careers, for the whistle-blowers too. Trust me, I’ll handle what you’ve told me. And seeing as you’ve dragged the newest recruit into this mess, you’ve already got a job on your hands.”

  Hogarth leaned across the table for emphasis

  “You’ll have to keep a lid on it.”

  “What?” said Simmons.

  “Until we know what’s what, Melford’s little problem stays off the radar. It’s not optional. It’s essential. Are we clear?”

  Simmons’ eyes dropped to the floor and he leaned back in his chair. “Kaplan hasn’t done anything wrong.”

  “And neither have you, yet. So let’s keep it that way, shall we?”

  Simmons shook his head and stood up. He was glum. “I want a coffee. Need anything?” he said.

  “Not from that poison machine, thanks,” said Hogarth. Palmer shook her head and Simmons slunk out of the door. Hogarth turned to face Palmer. His eyes happened on the clock as he glanced her way.

  “Come on then,” said Hogarth. “Out with it.”

  “You can’t sit on this because you’re under pressure with this Grant Dawn thing.”

  “I don’t intend to sit on it. Besides, the Grant Dawn case is about to take on a life of its own. We’ll either crack it in time, or we won’t. I’ll just have to live with the consequences. It’s getting too late in the day to try and control it. And I still haven’t got a main suspect, only suspicions.”

  “Sabine Dawn?” said Palmer.

  Hogarth shook his head. “I can guess why Yvette George said that. But that woman’s point of view was skewed. She was seeing everything from lover boy’s perspective. She wants to blame someone, and who more convenient than the woman who was in his way.”

  “That makes it sound like you think Brett Reville had motive to kill Grant Dawn.”

  “He did. Plenty of them, from the sound of it. His little money draining scheme couldn’t last forever. He needed the whole business to keep himself going, and Grant Dawn was in his way. Trouble is, if Brett was thinking like that, he wouldn’t have topped himself either, would he?”

  “Then who else could it be?”

  “The truth is I’m clutching at straws. But I know one thing, Emily Flount is far shadier than Grant believes.”

  “Because she offered you cash and favours?”

  Hogarth raised his eyebrow and shifted in his seat. “You’ve got a way with words, haven’t you? Flount made it plain she’s looking for Grant Dawn’s missing cash – and the only one who doesn’t know is Grant Dawn.”

  “You haven’t told him?”

  “I don’t work for Dawn. I’m not sure I even like the man. And with all the secrets he keeps from us, I’d much rather see how far Emily Flount goes with this thing. If she thinks I’ll turn a blind eye—”

  “Why would she think that?” said Palmer.

  “She thinks we’re already compromised by our involvement. That we’re bent, or at least, bendable.”

  “But we’re not though – are we, guv?” said Palmer.

  “Don’t you start,” said Hogarth. “All I’m saying is that it’s time we looked more closely at cousin Emily. If she thinks she can get away with theft and deception right under my nose, what else does she think she can get away with?”

  “The mind boggles,” said Palmer, with a suspicious expression.

  Hogarth saw it and sighed. “I’m going to have to do something about Melford.”

  Palmer said nothing.

  “I mean it,” said Hogarth. “I had intended to wait until after we’d solved this mess. But seeing as that doesn’t meet with the approval of my team, I’ll get the ball rolling this morning.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “That’s my business. Just try and trust me, okay?”

  Palmer paused before she nodded.

  Hogarth stood up from his desk.

  “Then what was all that about with Kaplan and Simmons?” said Palmer.

  “I don’t want them too involved. And not just because they’re soft, which they are. But this could be a very nasty business. I think it’s best everyone in the team keeps well away until I know what we’re looking at. Especially Simmons. Kaplan even more so. It’s too risky.

  “And…” said Palmer. “Is it corruption?”

  “I’ll soon know.”

  “Heard anything yet from Heybridge on Dawn’s Capri?” said Palmer.

  “Nothing yet, but I expect to hear anytime,” said Hogarth. “What about Reville’s body? The cause of death would be a help. That’d give us a solid clue about who we’re looking at.”

  Palmer shook her head. “Crime scene are still working on Reville’s car. Ed Quentin’s got the body.”

  Hogarth nodded. “Fine. Then we’ll just do what we can until we hear something. As it happens, I need a strong word with Grant Dawn. He’s been holding out on us again. If the man wasn’t a potential victim, I’d have him down as a suspect. And we’d better take a closer look at Emily Flount. I might need your help on that one.”

  Palmer nodded as Hogarth walked to the door.

  “Where are you going now?” she said.

  “To address our Melford situation,” said Hogarth, gripping the door handle.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “The same as usual, Palmer,” he said with a smile and a shrug. “Improvise.”

  Hogarth left the CID room door open. Before it closed in the frame Simmons returned holding a steaming brown plastic cup. Palmer sniffed the air. “What’s in there?” she said.

  “Soup. Orange soup – vegetable, I think. I just couldn’t bring myself to drink the coffee,” said Simmons. “Where’s the grouch gone?”

  Palmer turned away to her desk. “I don’t know,” she said. “Something to do with PC Heybridge, I think.” Something in Palmer’s tone had Simmons thinking.

  He sipped his cup, leaving a thin orange line on his upper lip. He looked at the back of Palmer’s head, frowned, and sat down at his desk
. Sod the bloody lot of them, he thought. Kaplan was his business, and his business alone.

  Hogarth rubbed a soothing hand down the back of his neck as he walked. The main office of uniforms was behind him as he made his way towards Melford’s office, feeling Simmons and Palmer’s doubts weighing heavy on his mind. As if he needed any more pressure. But could he blame them? The Hartigan case had almost been mismanaged to total disaster, and here he was again, left holding another murder investigation timebomb which looked all set to go off in his face. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself. But neither could he afford to let even an inch of doubt creep into his thinking – not at such a critical time. If doubt took hold, he was sunk. He had to handle Melford the right way; only problem was he didn’t know which way was right. In an ideal world he would have had time to plan his approach and pick the most opportune moment, but the lack of trust in his team needed to be fixed. As much as he had the reputation of a maverick Hogarth knew that serious crimes – and especially murder – couldn’t be handled alone. He needed his team behind him, and if they needed him to act, then he had no choice. He paused in the middle of the corridor, stopping to plan his words, when PCs Orton and Jordan emerged from the men’s toilet laughing like drains. They clapped eyes on Hogarth and their demeanour changed. Hogarth got the impression he had been the butt of a joke. He shook his head and made his way past them, as if he was heading to the vending machine.

  “It’s just like Laurel and Hardy all over again,” said Hogarth. He picked some change from his pocket and gave Jordan a wink to let him see only Orton was in his crosshairs, but Jordan looked unsure as he walked away. Hogarth stared at the vending machine without any intention of buying a thing. His mind was on his approach. He rehearsed his words in his head.

  “So, sir. I hear you were caught chatting to a suspicious character in the civic centre car park last night. Care to tell me what you’ve got yourself into?

  Hogarth and subtlety. Not easy bedfellows. He needed to think again, but all he could think of was time slipping away on all fronts. Heybridge would soon bring news which might fundamentally change the case, and he still needed to deal with Grant Dawn and Emily Flount before anything changed. Hogarth soon decided subtlety would have to take a back seat. He took a deep breath to steel himself. And true to his current streak of luck, he heard Melford’s door fly open in the corridor behind him. Hogarth froze, ready for the usual bark of his name, but it didn’t come. Instead, he heard the rapid soft thud of footsteps making away down the corridor. Hogarth frowned and leaned back out of the recess to see Melford marching away down the corridor, hands balled into fists at his sides. He was wearing the same striped shirt Hogarth had seen him in for days now, only his sleeves had been rolled up to reveal dark, hairy forearms. He turned to see Melford’s office door was still ajar and considered his options. Snooping for evidence was an option, but Melford must have learned to be more careful with his notes by now. Hogarth left the door to close. Instead he turned to follow Melford. The DCI must have seen him, but clearly the man was in a hurry, and he seemed distracted as ever. Hogarth stepped into the corridor and looked to see if any of the uniforms were watching from the main office. Dawson passed the open doors without a glance, PCSO Gill Penner was busy too but no one was watching him. Hogarth was in the clear. He followed Melford down the corridor but stayed at a safe distance. Just as Melford was about to round the corner where the corridor headed to the end of the building, PCSO Kaplan walked through the double doors into the corridor. She was heading for the toilets when she caught a fractional glimpse of DCI Melford striding away, dead ahead, with DI Hogarth following discreetly behind. Her mouth twitched and she took a nervous breath. In some way Kaplan knew she was involved.

  Hogarth watched Melford’s body language change as he reached the back door. The DCI slowed down and stopped. Hogarth slowed and stayed back and looked around to get his bearings. The back end of the station was the most functional of areas. Officers would come through this way at the beginning and end of their shifts, either to pick up squad cars or to leave their home car behind. The cleaners came this way too, but other than that, there was plenty of times this part of the station would be quiet and empty. Hogarth looked for CCTV cameras. The nearest one was some way behind him, pointing his way, but he saw Melford’s position left him out of shot. Melford was safely into a recess beside the back door. There was another CCTV camera immediately outside the back door, but it aimed away from the door. If Melford wanted his business off the radar, he had chosen his location well. Hogarth looked at his own position. There was no good place to hide. The best he could manage was to press his back against the slight recess provided by a locked cupboard door. He kept his breath still and light, and listened to Melford as he tutted, huffed, and puffed. Soon Melford’s voice was a hoarse whisper, breathy and tense.

  “Glasson. I asked you not to contact me, then I find another message left on my desk. Don’t you think they read those messages? Every time you do that you risk exposing me. Not just me, but you too. If I go down, so do you.”

  Hogarth cringed. His temper ignited at the sound of a man he had trusted letting him down. It made him furious, Melford had always demanded respect and honour, and all the time he had been up to something beneath contempt. How long? he wondered. How long had Melford duped them all? Hogarth couldn’t bear the idea Melford had been rotten from the start. He shook his head and gritted his teeth.

  “What do I want?” said Melford. “I want you to stop pressurising me and my family. I want you to get this over with! I’ve had enough. Yes, enough. I don’t care if you think you’ve got the upper hand. There comes a time—”

  Melford stopped speaking as if the man at the other end of the line had cut across his words. Melford hung his head and listened. Hogarth leaned forward and watched the DCI scratching his thinning crown. Hogarth snapped his head back as Melford turned to look down the corridor. A moment later Melford started talking again.

  “That’s all I ask. Yes. I’ll do what’s required. Just stop everything else. Yes, but you have to stop chasing me and my wife. Right now. If you don’t, I’ll back out. I don’t care about the consequences. I mean it.”

  Hogarth’s brow dropped low over his eyes. His wife, Eleanor. She was involved somehow… Hogarth found that a surprise. It didn’t make sense. Hogarth bit his lip and listened. But he sensed movement somewhere back on his left. Hogarth snapped his head around, fearing one of the cleaners or one of the traffic cops was coming through to collect their car, but it wasn’t them. A few metres back, peering around the corner, he caught a glimpse of PCSO Kaplan. He saw one dark eye peering right at him from the wall. Hogarth bared his teeth and flung his hand through the air in an angry gesture to wave her back. He saw Kaplan’s eyes widen. She blushed, nodded, and turned away. But in her haste, her boot must have struck the radiator pipe. Something clanked and reverberated down the corridor. At once, Melford stopped talking and Hogarth sensed him looking back down the hall. The world turned silent and Hogarth gulped. His heartbeat became the loudest sound of all. Hogarth waited and got ready to be discovered. But again Melford started talking, this time more quietly, a whisper so rasping it must have hurt this throat.

  “No. I thought I heard someone, that’s all. See. You’re making me bloody paranoid. When? Tonight. Fine. And you’ll tell me what you actually need? No more games? Okay. I know the place. By the old MoD site. Yes, yes, of course I’ll be there. But you’ll have to keep your word too.”

  The call was drawing to a close. Hogarth looked back down the corridor, and saw he hardly had time to escape if he wanted to get away. If Melford turned back now, he would have been outed. But Hogarth was a blagger. He always had been. He only hoped his skills were up to the task.

  “Alright, alright,” hissed Melford. “I’ll see you there.”

  Here it came. Melford was shuffling around, getting ready to move. Hogarth pre-empted Melford by quickly stepping out into the corridor. He took a few rushed st
eps back towards the corner, and then turned around and made a show of hurrying towards the back door. Melford gasped as he saw him, and Hogarth watched the man slip his mobile phone away. Then Melford turned to face whoever was approaching.

  “Sir? What are you doing back here?” said Hogarth, feigning confusion.,

  “Taking a personal call, that’s all,” said Melford, with a pained smile. “I’m sure you must do the same once in a while, when necessity demands.”

  Hogarth couldn’t hide the suspicious spark in his eyes. His eyes were wide, reading all the nuances on his superior’s face as he would with any other suspect. The narrowing of his dark-ringed eyes, the way his eyes turned shifty when telling a lie, only to look up strongly, challenging him, rebuking him at the same time. He saw Melford had shaved, but there was a patch of grey stubble underneath his chin and another patch on his jawline. The line on his brow seemed more deeply etched than ever, and his skin was pale and grey.

  “What are you doing back here anyway, Hogarth?” snapped Melford. “I want you ready to give me an update on the Reville murder case and on the Paglesham incident soon as you can.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Hogarth.”

  “What are you looking at me like that for, man?” barked Melford.

  “Sir?”

  “Presumably you came here to find me. So, what do you want?”

  Hogarth examined Melford’s face. With PCSO Kaplan now playing detective he had no choice but to push. Melford was barely holding it together. Now seemed as good a time as any to face the man with the truth.

  “Sir, the truth is I’m concerned about you.”

  “What?” Melford’s face contorted with frustration and fear. He tried for a smile of disbelief, but his lips resisted the attempt. Everything about the man seemed ready to malfunction.

  “Excuse me for saying this, sir, but I don’t think you’ve been yourself for some time. I tried to talk to you about it before. I know there must be some problem behind all this, and if there is, and if it involves anything you might need to tell a fellow officer about, I hope now would be the time.”