The Darkest Deed_A Gripping Detective Crime Mystery

by Solomon Carter

  “Most of you defended Aimee Gillen’s character to a degree, didn’t you? To a very, very limited degree. When I spoke to the actors downstairs, their stories about her behaviour matched yours. They said Aimee Gillen was a has-been. A lush. A waster. They said the woman’s brain had been turned to mush by drugs, then they said she had lost it and made a fool of herself on camera. I heard all of that. The actors pitied her, while you people claimed to have stood by her. You even told me, Mr King, that by rights they should have thrown her out onto the scrap heap.”

  “Yeah. By rights, we could,” said King. “But that Aimee Gillen woman was the foundation of my business nearly twenty years back. I wouldn’t have done that to her.”

  “No, I suppose not,” said Hogarth. “But while the actors downstairs queued up to write her off, you merely damned her with faint praise. Miss Aubrey was more outspoken. You, Miss Aubrey, made it clear to me. Aimee Gillen’s days here would have been numbered even if she had lived.”

  Lana Aubrey shrugged. “Yes, but that’s hardly a damning statement.

  “No. But would you like to know what does look particularly damning to me?”

  Regent smiled. “We’re all ears, Inspector. It’s almost entertaining to see a man so committed to flushing his career down the toilet.”

  Hogarth narrowed his eyes.

  “On the weekend immediately prior to her death, Aimee Gillen tried to contact three different organisations in a bid to blow the whistle on what was happening here in secret.”

  “In secret? Commissioner? What is this guy talking about?” said Harry King.

  Hogarth felt his anger rising. “Don’t deny it. Someone here knows that Aimee Gillen was close to blowing the lid on what you were doing, and I happen to know, with certainty, that two of you here must be involved. The jury is still out on the other.”

  King looked at Roger Johnson. Johnson shrugged awkwardly. The man looked embarrassed.

  “Aimee Gillen called a solicitor twice. We don’t know the full context of those calls, but the solicitor has since confirmed her calls were related to sexual harassment involving her employer…”

  “Bullshit!” said King. “I never harmed that girl in all my life. Aimee was my first star. I loved that girl.”

  Hogarth ignored King’s fiery outburst.

  “Where is the substance of your argument, DI Hogarth?” said Roger Johnson.

  “Commissioner. Hear me out. Next, Aimee Gillen called a defunct police line. Her call didn’t get picked up, which was a failing on our part. Then in desperation, she even called The Record newspaper. By then Aimee Gillen knew the scale of what she was facing. That was why she had been so terrified, acting so wildly in her last weeks. Yes, she was a cocaine addict. We know that. But the cocaine didn’t kill her, did it. The cocaine was a background element in Miss Gillen’s death.” Hogarth looked at Lana Aubrey and Darryl Regent.

  “Come on, Inspector!” said Lana Aubrey. “Aimee Gillen was out of her mind on coke! And she probably placed all of those calls when she was high.”

  “No, Miss Aubrey. The calls and text messages were made over a period of three days. Aimee Gillen wasn’t high the whole time. And that’s not the first time you’ve lied about Aimee Gillen either, Miss Aubrey. You told me that Miss Gillen tried to force Chrissie Heaton into bed with her. That lie was designed to discredit her altogether. If she wasn’t an unreliable junkie, she was a sexual predator too. That was designed to hide the truth.”

  “Lana, what is this idiot saying?” said King.

  Lana Aubrey ignored Harry King. She looked at Hogarth. “I only told you what Chrissie Heaton told me had happened to her”

  “No, Miss Aubrey. Another lie. You only told me what you had instructed Chrissie Heaton to say. It was fabrication pure and simple. And why did Chrissie go along with it? It’s obvious, Miss Aubrey. Because you threatened her, didn’t you?”

  Harry King stood up and threw his arms in the air.

  “Come on! Mr Johnson. You’re the police commissioner. Sack this guy. Get him out of here. The man doesn’t know what he’s talking about! This is ludicrous!”

  Hogarth looked at Johnson. “No sir, it isn’t. We accessed those calls and we’ve seen the evidence.”

  “What evidence, exactly?” said Johnson, a conflicted look on his face. Hogarth could see the balance of self-interest veering from side to side in Johnson’s mind like cargo on stormy seas.

  “Chrissie Heaton was employed at the X-L gym for a full year before she joined this studio. Let me ask you plainly. Why exactly would a bright girl like her transfer to a porn studio? Come on. She worked at a gym for heaven’s sake! A gym! And she transferred here. Then within six weeks of being here, she had made friends with Aimee Gillen, and before that six weeks was up, Aimee Gillen was dead.”

  “Now what?” said Regent. “You’re suggesting that Chrissie Heaton killed her? You’re making it up as you go along, man.”

  “No, Mr Regent. Not at all. Your gym and Harry King Studios operate a very similar, very strict policy on personal conduct for staff. Both firms are very big on secrecy. Interesting, that. When I asked about Miss Heaton’s time with your gym, your staff wouldn’t tell me a thing, Mr Regent, Instead, your deputy Jody Castleton handed me a file – but only after it had been doctored and emptied. Curiously, I noticed that she also removed some files which I didn’t ask her for. That was after taking a phone call from you. I soon discovered the other file she removed was for a young woman called Freya Dunton. Poor Freya’s death here hadn’t been on my radar until then. Both files show that Darryl Regent personally interviewed Freya Dunton and Chrissie Heaton when they started at the gym. I suspect, Mr Regent, theirs are the only interviews you did. You’re too senior to be involved in a low-level recruitment process.”

  Regent stroked his bulbous chin.

  “Then, a year after they started, both girls transferred to the studio next door,” said Hogarth.

  Regent stared at Hogarth. His eyes were hateful. “Mr Regent. Do you interview all your junior staff?”

  “No. Of course not. But let me say here and now, you had no business snooping in our files.”

  “Yes, I did, Mr Regent. For the very reasons I am about to outline. Freya Dunton transferred from X-L gym to Harry King Studios in 2016. A few months later she was found hanging in her living quarters.”

  “That was suicide,” snapped Lana Aubrey. “The poor girl had a history of depression.”

  “Yes, I read about that. And I have no reason – and no evidence to believe otherwise. At present.”

  “Where is this going, Inspector?” said Johnson.

  “Yes, Commissioner. Freya Dunton transferred here from the X-L – just around the time she turned eighteen. That move resulted in a death. This year, just six weeks ago, Chrissie Heaton transferred to the studio the exact same way, soon after her eighteenth birthday. That move here also resulted in a death. Was that another coincidence? I don’t think so.”

  “You don’t think?! Commissioner!” said Regent, waving a great hand. “Stop this farce, please.”

  Johnson faltered and waved a hand. “Not yet, Darryl, Let’s hear what he has to say, then I’ll deal with it.”

  “Thank you, Commissioner. And there’s another coincidence, Mr King,” said Hogarth. “Did you know that Lana Aubrey was named as one of two interviewers for the appointment of both Freya Dunton and Chrissie Heaton.”

  King frowned. “Lana would have definitely interviewed those girls when they joined us, of course.”

  “But that’s not what I mean, Mr King. Lana Aubrey interviewed those girls – but not for your studio. She interviewed them with Darryl Regent and for Darryl Regent – back when they started at X-L gym a year before they came here,” Hogarth watched the information sink in. “You didn’t know about that, did you, Mr King?”

  Hogarth studied the old man’s eyes.

  “Bullshit,” said King. “Lana works for me.”

  “No, Mr King. It’s not bul
lshit,” said Hogarth. “I’ve seen Miss Aubrey’s signatures on those interview sheets. The dates too, even though Mr Regent tried to stop me. Care to tell us why you helped with those interviews, Miss Aubrey?”

  Hogarth saw the guilt all over her face. But she tried to move past it. “Because Darryl asked me to, that’s why. Didn’t you, Darryl. And I wanted to help.”

  Darryl Regent nodded keenly and shifted in his seat. “Yes. Lana is a good businesswoman, I knew she’d be helpful.”

  “Come on, Lana!” said Hogarth. “You’re a businesswoman. You wouldn’t do anything for free. None of it. And I know you didn’t. I wondered how come a woman in your job, into management for a small-time porn studio, can afford Chanel glasses, flash bracelets and a top of the range Merc convertible! I doubt even Harry here pays you that well. You’d get a fair salary. But my bet is that the cream of the profits go straight to Harry and no one else.”

  “Lana told me she has investments,” said King.

  “And I’m sure she does,” said Hogarth. “But most of all, she invests in herself. The fact is, Miss Aubrey, you only helped out because Darryl Regent made you a very good offer, didn’t he, Miss Aubrey? Not just for the interviews – but for a long term arrangement between you and him - between the gym and the studio.”

  Aubrey gazed at her hands. Her face turned a darker shade of red and she bit her lip.

  “There is no such arrangement. No arrangement at all,” said King. “It doesn’t exist.”

  The eyes were narrow and suspicious. He turned quiet.

  “Yes, there was, Mr King. Just you weren’t included in it. That’s why you didn’t know the reasons behind Chrissie Heaton’s appointment or Freya Dunton’s before her. For you they were just new girls. That’s why you were so earnestly upset about Aimee Gillen when I interviewed you before. You’re no saint, Harry. But this stuff isn’t your bag, not at all. What happened to Chrissie Heaton, Freya Dunton, and Aimee Gillen belongs to Regent and Lana Aubrey alone.”

  “I can’t hear much more of this,” said Regent. But the big man stayed in his chair.

  “But I’m not done, Mr Regent. You set up an arrangement with Lana Aubrey. That Lana would take your cast-offs, in return for a fee. And not only would she take them off your hands, she was to look after them for you. To manage them. To keep them quiet. And she’s done that very well, hasn’t she? Right up to now. Of course, Freya Dunton is the quietest of them all, being dead and all. But Chrissie Heaton slipped up. I’d say it was down to the drugs, wouldn’t you? She got too close and broke the no-fraternising rule. The rule you operated on both premises for good reason – to keep your arrangement under wraps and you in the clear. But after Chrissie told Aimee Gillen what you’d done to her, the secret was out, and you went into damage limitation mode. But how did you find out?” said Hogarth. He stared at Lana Aubrey. “Did Aimee tell you what she knew? No, no… it was Chrissie. Chrissie was so scared of the come-back that she told you herself. Didn’t she? Didn’t she Miss Aubrey?!”

  Lana Aubrey looked up at Hogarth. Her lips opened but she didn’t speak. But he saw the truth in her eyes.

  “This man is barracking the woman,” said Darryl Regent. “This is unfair.”

  Johnson waved a hand. “Please, Inspector. If you have any evidence to back up your allegations present it now, or I’ll be forced to call DCI Melford.”

  “Yes, sir. Evidence. Evidence in respect of the abuse? Unfortunately, that’s been smothered, sir. But then that was the point. That was why Aimee Gillen be discredited – when she couldn’t be silenced, she had to be killed.”

  “Rubbish.”

  “But it’s not rubbish, Mr Regent. This truth is Darryl Regent hired those very young girls for the X-L because of his long-established predilection for sex with very young women. And it didn’t matter whether those girls consented or not, just as long as they were young and couldn’t say no. It’s so much easier when you can control them as an employer, eh, Mr Regent? They were accessible, always to hand, always ready, and always submissive…”

  The man shook his head. “How dare you!” he raged.

  “I dare because it’s true, Mr Regent.”

  “You’re dragging up the past. Those charges were dropped.”

  “But I’m not dragging up the past, Mr Regent. You are. I would never bring up those historical underaged-sex charges. They’re not relevant and not admissible because they were dropped. But you did abuse Freya Dunton. And you abused Chrissie Heaton, and when you had your fill of them, you sent them next door where they could still be used and kept quiet. As girls working in the porn industry, they would have been forever discredited. No one would have ever believed them. After all, who ever listens to a has-been porn star? Aimee Gillen could tell us the answer to that one. Nobody would listen. And nobody would care.”

  “Where’s your evidence?” said Johnson.

  “Like I said, there is no evidence of abuse. Not yet. We’re still waiting for the victim’s statement.”

  “I told you!” said Regent.

  Johnson shifted in his seat. Hogarth raised a hand to stop him.

  “But there’s plenty of evidence for murder. The night she died, after she made those calls for help, Aimee Gillen had a visitor. That visitor interrupted Miss Gillen when she was about to take a line of coke. Gillen had the line with her stash in her bedside drawer, suggesting the visitor was someone who wouldn’t approve. Not a friend. But someone like a work superior. It was you Miss Aubrey. Lana Aubrey came in to talk with Miss Gillen. They went into her room just before ten o’clock. They talked in peace. There was no argument, but Lana Aubrey did have something with her. Something she’d ordered from Marvin, the runner. A drug called GHB. A drug Lana Aubrey knew well, because she’d been one of the girls in her time. You lied to Marvin and told him you wanted the GHB as a sex enhancer for her new boyfriend. It was a line she knew Marvin could hardly risk repeating and wouldn’t question. Because Lana was his boss. Again, she played the secrecy card. But Lana knew GHB wasn’t just a sex enhancer. It’s a relaxant drug. They call it liquid ecstasy because of the effects it has. It relaxes people, and it knocks them out. Even women who are well-hyped on cocaine. Because it’s so potent, it’s often used for date rape.”

  The woman looked stunned.

  “You went to Aimee Gillen’s room just not long before ten pm on Sunday night. Aimee was scared, but you disarmed her. You were friendly. You talked. You said it would be okay, that no one would ever get abused again. She must have believed you. She was isolated, and badly needed to talk. Then you offered a peace offering – just two porn queens of the same generation, taking a hit together, like in the good old days. That explained the empty wine glass left in her room. You poured a great big shot of GHB. You sipped a bit yourself, just for show. Then you gave some to Aimee Gillen. She got mellow. Sleepy. When she started drifting you offered her more. By then it would have been easy to administer. She fell unconscious. Then you went through the routine you’d already planned. You met Chrissie Heaton by the washrooms. Chrissie didn’t know why, but she did as she was told. You told me you saw Marvin down there at ten. But that was a lie. He finished at nine, like he said. Why did you lie? Because Marvin was a drug dealer, and you wanted to frame him for any possible comeback. And it almost worked. Marvin was a suspect. But in framing him, you set yourself up for the fall. Marvin told us you bought liquid ecstasy from him. He described the unique bottle as well. The bottle you bought for the precise purpose of killing Aimee Gillen. And you bought GHB because you knew very well that it wouldn’t show up in urine or blood tests. You’ve been around the block, haven’t you, Lana? You knew your drugs. You were smart. You knew what you were doing.”

  “After setting up your alibi with Chrissie Heaton, you went back to finish the job. Chrissie was safely locked up in your room. In the small hours, when everyone was asleep, you went to Aimee’s room. You had the GHB with you, I know that, because of what happened next. So, you probably gave her some mo
re, to ensure she was sleepy and compliant. Then, you dragged her to the sauna. If anyone saw you, you could have cancelled your plan and said Aimee was a wreck because of drugs. Everyone would have believed you. But no one saw you. So here was your opportunity to end the risk of exposure. But one thing you didn’t reckon on was that the GHB and the coke would still conflict in her system. When you got near the sauna, Aimee started to come around. She had a lucid moment and you struggled with her. She was awkward and heavy too. And in forcing her towards the sauna you dropped that bottle. The little grey bottle you ordered form Marvin. The bottle shattered on the floor and spilled some liquid which dried into a crust of sugary liquid. You hustled Aimee Gillen into the sauna and went out to clean up. You picked up most of the glass but had to get away. And you did it. You did get away without being spotted. But you left fragments behind. Fragments of a pale grey glass bottle which contained the GHB, matching traces that our pathologist found in Aimee’s body. In the end, Aimee Gillen was killed by GHB – unable to leave the sauna heat as it drained the life from her body. And that GHB came from a very distinguishable small grey bottle that Marvin got for you and you alone. The forensics and pathology are there. The evidence stacks up. Lana Aubrey killed Aimee Gillen.”

  The Commissioner turned silent. His eyes stayed on Hogarth before he looked at the floor.

  “You were smart, Lana. You remembered that you needed to clean the wine glass and get rid of your own prints. And before you took her to die, you made sure you put Aimee Gillen’s prints back on the glass stem after wiping yours away. And you washed out the GHB with water from the tap. Very wise. But you chose the wrong angle for Aimee’s fingerprints. We found her fingers were in the wrong place. Which made the glass a piece of evidence The broken glass on the cracked tile was a huge clue. It was the key. But the very first clue posed me a very puzzling question. Why would a coke-head leave a line unsnorted? It was like a joke without a punchline. And it had me thinking murder very early on. And the answer to the question, Lana? An unexpected guest, that’s why. You were smart, Lana. But the GHB wasn’t a magic bullet. And in the end, it exposed you…” Hogarth turned his eyes upon Darryl Regent. “And it exposed him too.”