Generations of Love

by Wendy Pulford

  ‘I’m sure she thinks I’ll mend.’ He rubbed his hand, ‘It’s a bit sore at the moment.’

  Catherine, rather pale and drawn, came back into the room at that point. The nurse accompanying her saw her seated in a chair, then commented, ‘A nice cup of tea is called for after that, I think,’ and left the room.

  Alex moved over to his wife, lifted her face and placed his mouth over hers. No words needed to be said.

  ‘Well, shall we leave these ladies to congratulate the female species, while we men go off to pat ourselves on the back, or something?’ Jerry grinned at Alex.

  ‘Yes, why don’t you do that. I’m sure you could both do with a cup of tea. After all, you’ve been through such a lot!’

  Sarah’s wry comment brought smiles all round, and Jerry ushered Alex out into the corridor.

  ‘Right,’ he stated, his voice firm, ‘first thing we do is have that hand looked at.’

  *

  ‘I think you’ll live! It looks a little angry, but clean. Give it another twenty-four hours and it should have calmed down. Well, Alex, what’s it like to be a father?’

  Jerry looked up from stirring his tea and was surprised at the serious look he encountered.

  ‘To be honest, it frightened the hell out of me, Jerry. I’ve never felt emotions like that before. It’s now real. We have a child. Something vulnerable that relies on us to look after it… and, you know what, it scares me as to whether I’m going to be any good at it.’

  ‘Well, I don’t suppose anyone can be sure of anything like that. Knowing both of you, though, I’d have thought you’ll make a damn good go of it. It’s not unknown for new fathers to experience various forms of emotion. They can feel out of it a bit at first. The mother is busy looking after the baby, and there’s no time left over for the father.’

  Alex looked rather sheepish, and glanced up at Jerry. ‘Some of my thoughts were rather more… personal than that, Jerry. I watched Catherine feeding him and I went berserk. I almost hated that little scrap for what he had done to Catherine to bring him into this world. I had to leave the room. I went to the Gents and I had a job getting my head around what I was feeling.’

  Jerry studied the other man for a moment. Yet again, he was amazed at the level of emotion in what appeared to be a self-confident man. He knew all too well that doctors had to be hard at times in order for them to deal with their profession, and the same must be true in Alex’s line of work. It was obvious, though, that he felt certain things deep down, and in his love for Catherine he was at his most vulnerable.

  ‘If I may be blunt, Alex, it’s pretty clear to anyone who knows you both that you have a very… how shall we say… intense and intimate relationship. When you consider it, you haven’t known each other all that long and the physical side of your feelings is still quite important. The baby has, of necessity, disrupted this and there will be repercussions for a while yet. You have to look long term, Alex. The result of your relations together has been a child. I assume you must have taken this step in joint agreement. When everything is back to normal, you’ll wonder what all the fuss was about. Perhaps the baby will be good for you both. It will force you to look outside that close bond the two of you have. I’ve an idea you’ve now worked this out for yourself. You seemed quite at home with your son a while ago.’

  ‘Yes, you’re right. I came to much the same conclusion. I have to learn to share. Catherine and I love one another, but we both now love our son. Jerry, I want to have her back home, so we can start to be a proper family.’

  ‘She’s young and healthy. Give her a few more days, and I’m sure that will happen.’

  Alex grinned at him. ‘Thanks for the chat, Jerry. I feel happier now you’ve confirmed some of my thinking.’

  ‘Glad to be of service. I’ll send you my professional bill!’

  *

  Before Alex left for home that evening, he again watched the feeding routine, this time with quiet pleasure, and when their son was wafted away to his nursery place, he and Catherine spoke together.

  ‘We have to give him a name, Alex.’

  ‘I know, my love. We’ve discussed this before. Are you still thinking the same as you were?’

  ‘Yes, I am. I still like Peter. Do you?’

  ‘I think that would be a very nice name for our son. Peter Hartman. I’ll now have to deal with the formalities of registering his birth.’

  ‘It still seems fantastic doesn’t it, Alex? I think I’m going to wake up and it’s all been a dream.’

  ‘It’s your indigestion again!’ He paused. ‘You knew something when we spoke that night, didn’t you.’ He saw her eyes drop away from his. ‘You weren’t going to tell me, were you.’ He saw the slight shake of the dark head. ‘Oh, my love, no more secrets, eh?’

  He touched her mouth with his, and then his heart lurched as he realised what he had just said. That shadow was still there, intertwined with all their happiness.

  *

  Alex started Monday morning with phone calls. He rang Francis and promised him a full report on the happenings in Scotland as soon as he could. He also told him about his own personal circumstances and after offering his congratulations Francis said he would note the fact that he would be working from home for the next few days.

  Alex then contacted Dougie. The poor man sounded shattered and Alex felt a pang of guilt, but Dougie wouldn’t hear of Alex making a flying visit back to Scotland.

  ‘I’m almost tied up here now. Should be back either tonight or first thing tomorrow. I’ll write up some notes on the plane.’

  ‘OK. Take a day off with your family, and then come round to my house on Wednesday and we’ll sift through all your information.’

  His next job was the formality of registering Peter, and it was with quiet pride that an hour or so later, looking more presentable, he returned to the hospital and showed an excited Catherine the formal birth certificate.

  All the team who had been with Catherine on Saturday were now back on duty again. He met Sister Mason, who said how pleased she was with Catherine’s improvement in such a short time. She contacted Andy Newman who, when he arrived, made a favourable impression on Alex with his air of quiet competence.

  ‘I can’t thank you, and your team, enough for all the help you gave Catherine. I’m sure she appreciated your skill and attention.’

  ‘No problem. A little out of the usual routine, but we managed. Your wife did very well, all things considered. Remember, though, next time she doesn’t give birth that way!’

  Alex wanted to query something with him, but felt slight embarrassment about doing so.

  ‘I… er… just wondered, in view of what you had to do… Er… when do you think…?’

  Andy Newman grinned at him. He guessed just what this husband was trying to say. ‘It might take about six weeks before you have your wife back. Her GP will keep an eye on her, but bring her back to me about then and I’ll give her a look as well if you like, and let you know. OK?’

  Alex grinned back at him. ‘Thanks, I’ll do that.’

  Catherine was progressing very well and it was hoped that she would be discharged in the next day or two. Alex felt happier. It would be a thrill to bring his new family back home, and start their life together.

  However, always at the back of his mind was the situation with Lionel Franklin. He would be seeing Dougie tomorrow morning to hear what he had discovered in Scotland. If there was some tangible evidence, he would have to report back to Francis and Sir John. They were short on factual certainties, this was the trouble. Knowing what was going on was one thing. Proving it was another.

  CHAPTER 20

  Dougie arrived the next morning with a present from himself and his wife for the new arrival. Alex was quite moved at the thought, and issued an invitation for them both to come and see Peter once Catherine was sorted out at home.r />
  Dougie said he had called into the office before coming out to Fulham, to see what might have arrived in their absence, and was very glad that he had. Seated at the dining room table with a pot of coffee and sandwiches between them, Alex looked at him in enquiry, wondering why his companion seemed rather smug.

  They started by reviewing the Scottish interviews.

  ‘The young boy, Fergal, told us nothing, apart from reinforcing the already known opinion of whose side he is on. An angry, but controlled, Liam O’Dowd spoke to me, but added very little. He said it was just unfortunate that he was known by his controllers to be in the vicinity when the pick-up was arranged at the last minute, and they considered that he might as well be used. A decision, in his view, that they may well now regret. Where, or who, the arrangement originated from he wasn’t able, or prepared, to say. He just acted on orders given, did the job and left the rest to others. He repeated what he told you, Boss, that when he is in a position to seek information he will do so, and act on it. I’m certain that however long it takes, that man is going to seek retribution.’

  He took a long swallow of his coffee, consulted his notes, and a broad grin came on his face.

  ‘The boat owner, John Kerry, was very interesting. Seems he was in some financial difficulties a while ago and ended up in Court, with the possibility of being declared bankrupt. Then at the eleventh hour, as they say, a benefactor came along and stumped up enough collateral to keep the creditors happy. Kerry was supposed to pay back the monies at an easygoing rate, but he soon started to receive phone calls. The unknown caller made it clear that his position regarding payment of debts was known, and he was asked if he was prepared to do a bit more than fishing; which, it was suggested, would be deducted from his outstanding loan. Kerry had a good idea what he was getting into, he’s not a complete fool, but if it meant keeping his boat, he was prepared to take the chance. This last job would have gone a long way to paying off his remaining debts, he told me.

  ‘He’s devastated. He knows he’ll lose everything now. I asked him to contact the solicitor who acted for him, to see where the loan money came from. We heard back just before I left Scotland that it was from a company called Last Finance, some sort of philanthropic organisation funded by donations offering practical emergency financial assistance to deserving cases.’ He looked at Alex. ‘Keep that name in mind, Boss.’

  He rummaged through his notes again. ‘Now, the Cortina driver. A young man. No previous form. Unemployed.’ He looked up at Alex. ‘Guess where he used to work?’

  Alex just shook his head.

  ‘He used to be a farmhand on the Ayrshire estate of Sir Gregory Hamilton, that young bastard Duncan Hamilton’s father. He was dismissed a year ago for fighting with another employee. I just happened to notice that for someone unemployed for a year he was sporting a nice, expensive wristwatch, which he maintained was years old but it looked pretty new to me. You getting my drift, Boss?’

  ‘Loud and clear, Dougie! Loud and clear!’

  ‘It gets even better! When I went into the office this morning I found Companies House had replied to my query about Franklin, Hamilton or Villiers being company officers. It seems both Hamilton and Villiers are involved in several, but…’ – he paused for a moment, consulted his notes, and then grinned at Alex, ‘together with an Edwin Thompson they are also trustees in a private company, limited by guarantee. Guess what company, Boss?’

  Alex gave a soundless whistle. ‘Last Finance?’ Somehow he had known that Scotland was going to prove important, and it appeared to be turning out that way.

  ‘Right. Here’s how I think they played it with Kerry. They must have contacts in the Court offices keeping an eye open for suitable cases. In this instance, a fishing boat owner in trouble. Bail him out with a loan and he becomes their man. They then have enough potential power over him to do what they want. A useful way of trafficking anything from money to drugs to people. Kerry turns a blind eye, although he knows well enough, but is desperate to keep his boat. We’re going to need to know a bit more about these monies, so I’ve ordered company accounts.’

  ‘I’ll bet they’re passing the original “donations” through other dummy channels,’ put in Alex. ‘It can’t be as transparent a chain as a trust fund or suchlike to Last Finance to Kerry.’

  ‘Maybe not, but if we can show reasonable doubt about the origins of the money it might be enough to have others dig around a bit more. My bet is Franklin and his chums must have in the past, or still are, using other people in this way.

  ‘I remember one of the staff at The Grosvenor mentioned to me in passing that Franklin uses the pay phone in the lobby an awful lot. Useful for making certain phone calls?’

  ‘It’s a good point, Dougie. We’d better work all this up into some sort of cohesive report and put it in front of Francis and the Commissioner. I think we’ve enough to show that things need to be looked at more closely, with more manpower than just us. To be quite honest, I’ll not be sorry to see the back of any involvement.’

  ‘Catherine still has no idea?’

  ‘No. I thought I might say something if we were released from the detail and someone else took it over. I still don’t know what her reaction might be if she knew I was investigating her uncle.’

  ‘She can’t blame you, Boss. You’re following orders.’

  ‘The trouble is, Dougie, that I agreed to do it. In the circumstances I could have said no, and should have done so, but I felt that if I was involved I would know what was going on, for her sake.’ He rubbed his hands over his face. ‘At least, that’s what I tell myself. What if I just wanted to get back at the man in some way?’

  ‘As I see it, you’re the law, and he’s doing something wrong, and needs to be stopped. End of story!’

  ‘You make it sound nice and simple, Dougie.’

  ‘Well, in any case you need to concentrate on Catherine and the baby now. What do you want me to do?’

  ‘I’ll come into the office tomorrow morning and we’ll start to knock up our report. If it looks good, I’ll try for a meeting with Francis and the Commissioner some time next week. We’ll have to practice our two-finger typing, I think.’

  *

  ‘I wish you’d keep your voice down Aubrey. Don’t get so excited.’

  Potter had requested an urgent meeting with Franklin at The Grosvenor, and they had just finished a less than amicable lunch.

  ‘Excited? Of course I’m excited! What else did you expect after Gregory Hamilton’s news?’

  ‘I think we’d better go up to my study if you’re going to continue in this vein, Aubrey.’

  When the two men were settled in Franklin’s private quarters, Aubrey Potter turned to his long-time friend.

  ‘Have you lost your head? Do you realise what you’re meddling with? I’ve already forestalled one or two enquiring phone calls as to whether I know anything. For your sake I’ve denied any involvement, but they’re not that daft, and they’re angry. Not a good combination. The man picked up was one of their best operatives.’

  ‘Well, if he was that good they were stupid to use him, or he shouldn’t have been caught.’ Franklin shifted papers around on the desk in front of him. ‘I assumed it would be a local police job, a couple of officers, apprehend the messenger at the airport, and that would be it. How was I to know it would amount to a full-scale security operation, and they’d have everywhere covered? We must keep our nerve, Aubrey. Let it all die down. No one can trace anything to us.’

  ‘How can you say that? What about the car driver, with a link to Hamilton? He’s furious. He says the rumours are that it wasn’t just local police involved, there were people from London. Then there’s the skipper. What if someone digs around in his financial affairs?’

  Franklin banged his fist down on the desk. ‘The driver’s been paid enough to keep him quiet. If anyone wants to look harder at K
erry, we can get Gregory’s associate Thompson to cover our tracks with the finance matter. Hamilton and Villiers approved the whole idea. So did you!’

  ‘Yes, in principle, against my better judgement; and not done this way. You know, Lionel, I have the strangest feeling that someone is taking a close interest in us, and I don’t like it.’

  ‘Why should they, Aubrey?’

  ‘Our man in the Met thinks the Commissioner has some project on the go he’s keeping quiet about. He says that detective you have a personal interest in is involved.’

  Franklin sat up and fixed Potter with a penetrating stare. ‘Hartman? Is that why he was sent to Richmond? What the hell did he hope to find out? At least the girl doesn’t know anything, I made sure of that. You said people from London were up in Scotland. Now wouldn’t it be a coincidence if it was Hartman? I’d say it was a certainty. I think you’re right, Aubrey, the sniffer dogs are out alright. Leave Hartman to me. I’ll settle things in that direction once and for all.’

  ‘For Christ’s sake, Lionel, don’t start stirring anything else up. I think its time you kept a low profile until we find out just what’s going on.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Aubrey, my plan will have to wait for a little while longer. But the anticipation will make the wait all the sweeter.’

  Potter sat back in his chair, a sudden air of deflation about him. ‘As I told you, I’m thinking of finishing in a year or two anyway. My bigger ideas haven’t met with as much interest as I’d anticipated. Too radical even for these days, and the prospect of change is looking slim. I don’t want to raise suspicions by pushing too hard. With any luck I’ll be pulled back to help on various committees which might throw up some useful information…’ – he glanced up at Franklin -‘in a financial sense.’ He raised an eyebrow in enquiry.

  Franklin just nodded and smiled at him, masking his inner thoughts. On leaving university, once exposed to the real world, he had long ago given up on the ideological changes his group had been introduced to by Professor Helsenberg. In the cold light of day, and practicality, any real political changes were harder to achieve than might have been thought. Aubrey had held on to his dreams a little longer than most, but now he too was becoming disillusioned. Financial gain was far more useful. Franklin had soon found ways to make use of his friend’s activities to achieve a higher level of wealth than might have been the case. Far higher indeed than he’d led Aubrey to believe; and from a personal point of view, he needed it to continue.