Radical Reaction

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Radical Reaction Page 21

by Dawn Marsanne


  Stefanie looked at Maureen. Her composure had slipped slightly when she had related the events of Friday evening. Perhaps she was just stressed and upset at being reminded of her husband’s demise. Maureen turned away to pour the tea and brought the cups over to the table.

  ‘One thing we wanted to ask you. Did you notice your husband’s wrist?’

  ‘His wrist? What of it?’

  Maureen was definitely becoming more agitated at this point.

  ‘He had some marks on his wrist, his right wrist which looked like something had been fastened around it and had chafed it?’

  Maureen shrugged. ‘I don’t remember. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt I think.’

  At this point, Maureen appeared to drift off into another world. The police officer remained silent until Maureen had returned to the present.

  ‘I realise that this might be rather upsetting for you, but I have to ask.’

  Maureen raised her eyebrows. Her armpits were pricking with sweat now. Were they suspicious of what had happened in this very house on Friday evening?

  ‘When you were married to Mr Welch and you were,’ she paused, ‘well, did you ever indulge in any activities such as bondage?’

  Maureen relaxed at this point. ‘Bondage? Ha, no nothing like that. Our marriage was very, how shall we say, well, conventional. Why do you ask?’

  ‘We wondered whether he was indulging in any sex games, that sort of thing. I have to ask. I’m sorry.’

  ‘We’ve been separated for a while now so I’ve no idea whether Hubert had started to indulge in that sort of thing. It’s possible of course.’ Maureen hated lying but she felt she had to deflect attention away from the events of Friday evening.

  ‘Well, that’s all I have to ask you, thank you for your cooperation.’

  ‘It’s so awful. I still can’t believe it,’ said Maureen shaking her head. ‘Just a moment, I’ll get my address book and give you those details.’

  The police officer drank her tea. Surely there was no doubt about this death she surmised. No break-in. A suicide note and a depressed patient. The post-mortem had shown V-shaped marks on his neck consistent with asphyxiation by hanging. She would write up her report and submit it through the usual channels. Maureen returned and handed over her book, opening it at the appropriate pages.

  ‘Thank you for your time, Mrs Welch.’

  ‘My pleasure,’ lied Maureen.

  She closed the door and immediately went to her drinks cabinet and poured herself a brandy with a trembling hand. She never normally drank before the evening except when she had wine with lunch. She sat down and replayed the conversation in her head. Surely they didn’t suspect her of hiring someone to murder her husband? No, that was absurd. Only she knew who had threatened her on Friday evening. There was no reason to suspect that the police would ever imagine that Hubert had taken leave of his senses and threatened her at knifepoint. She put her head back and closed her eyes. She needed to get a grip on herself. She also had a funeral to organise in conjunction with Hubert’s remaining relatives, his brother and his family. She’d been in touch with them already and they had agreed that a cremation with a speaker from the Humanist society would be the most appropriate.

  She headed off into the kitchen to see what was in the fridge for lunch but saw nothing which took her fancy. Perhaps just a piece of toast and jam would be best for her under the circumstances. She took a couple of pieces of wholemeal bread out of the freezer and put them in the toaster. As they were browning she looked out on the garden and a major realisation just dawned on her. There was someone else who had known about Hubert’s visit that evening and the ordeal she had endured.

  Distracted from her reverie by next door’s cat which began to stalk a blackbird she shook her head. This was Persford, not some TV drama or a novel. She was making far too much of it. Ron was a good friend and a respectable businessman, not some underworld figure. The toast popped up and she let it cool before spreading it with some olive spread and apricot jam.

  Chapter 41

  The next week...

  The day of the official launch of PersCure had arrived and the local press were attending to take some publicity shots. It was unfortunate that Derek’s death and funeral had preceded the launch so closely and in a show of respect, Hilary Worksop had asked Derek’s widow whether she was happy for the event to go ahead. She agreed wholeheartedly that it should take place without delay and would be a fitting reminder of his achievements. Their son Felix would represent the Plumpton family.

  Thus the university hierarchy including the Vice-Chancellor was assembled in the Senate House along with all the faculty heads and the major contributors from the multi-disciplinary team which had enabled the prototype drug UP-627-TK to progress to clinical trials. Pat Dunford representing the chemistry department looked unusually smart in his suit. Matt, Brett and Nick were chatting with Rebecca Levinson from oncology when Professor Ian French called for quiet.

  He stepped up on to the stage and took the microphone.

  ‘On behalf of the University of Persford, I would like to thank you all for attending this historic day when we announce what we hope will be the first of many spin-off companies associated with this great institution. Although we are here to celebrate, we are also mourning the death of the great scientist Professor Derek Plumpton.’

  There was a murmuring in the audience at this latest comment.

  ‘I am sure you all join with me in passing on our sincere condolences to Derek’s family, particularly to his widow Winifred and his son Felix who is here today.’

  He paused to consult his notes. ‘Now I would like to introduce Hilary Worksop, Head of Innovation and Technology to say a few words.’

  ‘Thanks, Ian,’ she said. ‘I will be brief but I just want to thank our consultants from PerzSolve, Matt Pearson, Brett Chandler and Nick Thomas for providing the excellent guidance which has enabled this venture to come to fruition so quickly and smoothly.’ She allowed a few moments for people to applaud as she indicated the trio standing towards the side of the room.

  ‘We are delighted that as well as receiving funding from investment houses in the city we also have local investors who have backed the fledgling company. Two of those are here today. Mr Ron Radford and Mr Gerald Shipton, two well-known figures in the Persford business scene. Now I’d like to draw your attention to the poster boards which show a lot of interesting detail about the science and the business. Whilst you are perusing the boards please help yourselves to the refreshments.’

  The audience clapped and the conversation started up once more.

  ‘Right, I’m going to get a drink, what about you two?’ asked Brett.

  ‘So, couldn’t your stepfather Rex come along, as he’s one of the bigger investors?’ asked Matt.

  ‘Ha, ha, he’s not my stepfather as well you know it,’ replied Brett quickly which caused Matt to smile. It was always good to tease Brett on that subject. ‘I did have a few anxious moments worrying that he was going to attend but fortunately they’d already booked a holiday.’

  ‘Strange that Jake Marsfield didn’t want to come down and have a look around. After all, he’s one of the big players. You would think he’d want to see exactly what his money is going to fund,’ said Matt.

  ‘Yes, well I contacted him several times but he’s just incredibly busy, blah, blah. It’s his choice after all. We’ve got his money whether he’s here in person or not.’

  ‘True, true,’ agreed Matt. ‘Right, which of these rather tired looking sandwiches shall I choose?’

  Gerald Shipton was chatting with his friend Ron. ‘I must say, you will soon be taking over this university, what with PersCure and now ClinTry!’

  ‘Hardly, Gerald, I’m just doing a bit to help where I can. After all, it’s no good being the richest man in the cemetery. It’s good to indulge in a spot of philanthropy now and then,’ he paused. ‘I just wish Natasha was here to witness it.’

  ‘Don’t upset
yourself, Ron,’ and he patted him on the arm. ‘But it’s not just philanthropy, is it. We should see a tidy return on our money?’

  ‘Oh, yes of course, but I’m past caring about that sort of thing,’ lied Ron. ‘I just want to do all I can to get this cancer treatment off the ground.’

  Gerald thought it was a bit ironic that Ron was trying to create the impression that he wasn’t bothered about the money aspect. He knew Ron of old and nothing could be further from the truth. He was as obsessed with money as anyone. He decided to change the subject, ‘Seen Maureen recently?’

  ‘Yes, quite recently,’ said Ron, non-committally.

  ‘You know I just can’t believe that Hubert topped himself.’

  ‘He wasn’t well, cancer apparently. He became very depressed, I guess it all got too much for him, with him being on his own as well.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so, it just seems an odd thing for him to do, he was always so controlling. He liked to be in charge. I’m just surprised he decided to throw in the towel, so to speak.’

  ‘Well, the inquest was satisfied. Suicide and as you know the funeral is tomorrow. Will you be going to the crematorium?’

  ‘Er, no I don’t think so. I couldn’t stand the bastard. I don’t want to be a hypocrite. After the way he treated Maureen. Well, they could take him to the tip as far as I’m concerned.’

  ‘It’s just a simple funeral, there won’t be that many people there I don’t think. A few family members, people from his business.’

  ‘You know, I wonder who he left all his money to? His brother might come into a small fortune. Unless he’s left it to charity?’

  ‘I’ve no idea Gerald and I can’t say it interests me much. Now, I think I’ll go and circulate after I’ve got myself a glass of that cheap plonk.’

  Before Ron could get a drink the photographer arrived along with Hilary Worksop and they posed for some photos. After that, she introduced them to the scientists on the project and all talk of Hubert and his millions was temporarily forgotten.

  **

  Christian Dalton had contacted all the participants for the Phase I trial and had arranged for them to attend appointments at the clinical unit so that their medical records could be checked. Some of the phone calls had been rather difficult due to the participants’ poor command of English. Their medical history was virtually non-existent and he would have to rely on the interviews when they attended and the usual checks of blood pressure, ECG and so on before they administered the drug. Fortunately, they would only be receiving a small dose so there was little chance of any untoward effects, particularly as it had already completed several similar studies and this was a slight adjustment to the dosing regime.

  Not for the first time today his mobile rang. It was Laura. He had rejected three calls already and missed two others. This time it was time to enact his instructions from Ron.

  ‘Hi, Laura. Sorry I’ve kept missing your calls. I’ve been in lots of meetings.’

  ‘I began to think you were avoiding me,’ she chuckled.

  ‘I don’t have long, as I said, it’s a busy day. I want to meet up?’

  ‘Ah, I’m glad you have been thinking about my little proposal.’

  ‘Oh, I have indeed. I’ll have some money ready for you soon, not all of it of course.’

  ‘Excellent. Shall I come and collect it?’

  ‘Why don’t we meet for a drink on Wednesday so we can discuss the details?’

  ‘Why not? That would be lovely. I’ll look forward to it.’

  ‘Well, obviously under the circumstances I don’t want to be spotted in public with you. So I could come to yours?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘Laura, I can’t help feeling you don’t want me to see where you live.’

  ‘I’m just cautious.’

  ‘I understand that but after all, a deal cuts both ways, don’t you think?’

  ‘How about we meet in a country pub, out of town. I doubt anyone would recognise you there.’

  Christian had been hoping for her address but this was the second best option, he didn’t have much choice.

  ‘OK, where did you have in mind?’

  ‘Do you know the Haywain, just outside Berrington? It’s about four miles outside Persford.’

  ‘I can look it up. Sounds good. About 8 ish?’

  ‘See you Wednesday.’

  Christian heard her blow some kisses to him down the phone.

  He disconnected and exhaled. Next he would phone Ron with the details of their assignation and hopefully he would be happy with the arrangements. It was the best he could manage. It shouldn’t be long until one of his problems would be resolved. With this accomplished he ought to be able to concentrate on his work and ensure that all the batches of the drug were ready for the trial. Suddenly he felt energised, things were starting to improve.

  Chapter 42

  Maureen had risen later than usual. Hubert’s funeral the previous day had been emotionally draining. The Humanist service at the crematorium had been sensitively conducted and on reflection she was sure it had been the right choice. She thought that when the time came for her own committal she might request the same rather than any kind of religious service.

  However, she had been unable to remain as emotionally detached as she would have liked. The eulogy was an accurate account of Hubert’s life as a successful businessman with some anecdotes from his brother about their childhood but nobody knew the other side of his personality, nobody other than herself. All the past memories built up inside her and when the curtains were finally drawn and the coffin disappeared from view she began to sob, in anger rather than grief. At that moment she felt Ron’s comforting arm extend around her shoulders and she leaned in towards him.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept through her alarm and at 10.15 a.m. she was now making herself coffee whilst still in her dressing gown. Reluctantly she went to answer the landline phone as she thought it might be Hubert’s brother.

  ‘Mrs Welch, it’s Francis Harcourt of Brigstock and Wellman. I hope I’ve not disturbed you.’

  ‘No, not at all.’

  ‘As you know we’ve handled your late husband’s legal affairs for some while now. I think we met some years ago over the documents for one of your developments?’

  ‘Yes, I remember now. There’s not a problem with one of them is there?’

  ‘No, nothing like that. But I do need to speak to you. Your late husband appointed my firm as his executor. I need to discuss his will with you.’

  ‘Yes, of course. What in particular?’

  ‘Would you be able to come into the office one day this week?’

  ‘Er, yes, of course. When would be convenient?’

  ‘Perhaps I can transfer you to my secretary and she will be able to arrange a suitable time. The phone will go silent for a few moments when I transfer you.’

  ‘OK, bye Mr Harcourt.’

  ‘Goodbye, Mrs Welch. Thank you for your time.’

  Maureen went to retrieve her diary whilst she was being transferred. She hoped that there wasn’t some major problem. The last week or so had been stressful enough.

  **

  Joe arrived in the lab just after 8.30 a.m. which was now his usual time as he had to travel by bus rather than by car.

  ‘Hi, Adam, everything OK?’

  ‘Not exactly. I spilt some of my product this morning so I’ve not got as much as I anticipated. I don’t know what I was doing, I’m not usually so clumsy.’

  ‘Don’t beat yourself up about it. If it’s any consolation I’m not in such a good mood either.’

  ‘What’s happened to you then?’

  ‘I’ve heard from the garage and they think I should scrap my car. It’s beyond fixing. It’s time for me to wave goodbye to the old girl.’

  ‘How much will you get for it?’

  ‘Not very much. A couple of years ago scrap prices were higher but now I’ll probably get about forty or fifty quid.�
��

  ‘Not much then.’

  ‘No, but I can cancel the insurance, road tax so should pay a few bus fares.’ He said in a harsh tone.

  ‘Well, if you need a lift back home anytime, just let me know. Where did you say you lived?’

  ‘Er, I don’t think I told you. Beresford Road, it’s off Kitchener Street.’

  ‘I’m not sure I know that area.’

  ‘No, it’s not in the posh part of town where you live.’

  Adam was a bit worried where the conversation was heading. ‘Well, like I say, if I can give you a lift anytime, just shout. Right, my data should have run by now.’

  Joe set to work. He realised he’d sounded a bit brusque but he just seemed to be having a poor run of things at the moment. It was nice of Adam to offer him a lift although now he thought about it perhaps it would make him depressed to accept a lift from him in his flash car. He was distracted from his thoughts by Hannah coming back into the laboratory announcing that she had brought cakes in as it was her birthday. He thanked her and tried to concentrate on his reaction. He didn’t want to make the week even worse than it already was by making a mess of that as well.

  **

  Eddie was manning the storeroom again today whilst the others made the deliveries. By now the bruise on his forehead had almost completely faded and today he wasn’t suffering from a headache. He noticed an order from Adam Newman had been requested early that morning. Stu had told him that Adam had overheard his conversation a couple of weeks ago and that he should watch his mouth, otherwise he might get reported for using racist language. To him, Adam looked just the sort to be a snitch. Well, he could wait a while for his order thought Eddie. I’ll get around to it when I feel like it. I can always claim that we are short staffed at the moment if he chooses to complain. He scrolled down the list and began to prepare the other orders which had come in.

  The long day stretched ahead for Eddie, if there were any slack periods he would be able to put his feet up. He didn’t want to overdo it and bring on another headache.

 

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