Heartless Reaction

by Dawn Marsanne

  ‘We talked about this in the night. You’ve already had one episode of heart trouble a couple of years ago. You need to get it checked out.’

  ‘Oh, well, if it will stop you worrying, I’ll call. I doubt I’ll get one today though.’

  ‘Why not try?’

  ‘They are a waste of time at that surgery. I know from when we took Natasha.’

  ‘You promised you would make an appointment.’

  Without looking at Maureen, he picked up his mobile and walked into the hallway. ‘Held in a queue,’ he shouted to Maureen, ‘I’m fourth.’

  Maureen breathed a sigh of relief that he had actually agreed to call. Fortunately, it wasn’t Monday otherwise there would be no chance of getting an appointment. She could see Ron pacing around. He wasn’t used to being kept waiting, it didn’t sit easily with him. She could hear him now on the phone, she kept her fingers crossed.

  ‘They’ve got one this morning at noon,’ said Ron. ‘It’s not with the GP I’m apparently registered with though, he’s off sick! That’s a laugh.’

  ‘Well, doctors get ill as well, you know. They are only human.’

  ‘Some of them are human and some are complete morons,’ added Ron gruffly.

  ‘Well, I’ll come with you,’ said Maureen. ‘I want to make sure you don’t play down your symptoms.’

  ‘There’s no need. I’m not a baby,’ said Ron, drinking the rest of his coffee and grimacing as it was now cold.

  ‘I’ll make some more coffee,’ said Maureen. ‘Now, please tell me you aren’t going to get stressed before we go to the doctor.’

  ‘I’ve already told you I’m working from home,’ said Ron. ‘I’ll be a very good boy. Goodness, I didn’t know I was going to have a live-in nurse when you moved in!’

  Maureen laughed, ‘You need looking after. You still think you are twenty-one. Most people have retired by your age. Here, some more coffee, let it brew for a minute.’

  ‘Retirement is for wimps,’ said Ron. ‘Besides which I need to keep an eye on my empire. Christian is doing much better but he still needs guidance.’

  Christian Dalton was Director at Radford ClinTry which had been struggling but was now back on a more even keel since Ron’s injection of cash and the careful management of the accounts by Sidney Failsworth. Christian and Ron had developed a good working rapport which had flourished after a rocky start.

  ‘Can’t you get Laura to take on more responsibility?’ asked Maureen. ‘She seems very efficient whenever I have any interaction with her. She could take more of a management role. I’m sure you aren’t using all her talents.’

  ‘She’s coming along nicely, it’s true. But I don’t want to overburden her. She’s still learning the ropes,’ replied Ron. ‘I’ve got plans for her though, don’t worry.’

  ‘Sounds interesting,’ smiled Maureen.

  ‘Right, well, if I’ve your permission I’ll go and make a start on my work,’ said Ron.

  ‘Yes, I’ll see you at about eleven thirty. We need to leave then as parking can be a nightmare.’

  Ron gave her a peck on the cheek and wandered off to his office. Deep down he knew he needed to get some medical advice. Maureen was right but he hated to appear weak and vulnerable. That just wasn’t the real Ron Radford.

  **

  Petra Drabek was waiting in Persford General Hospital for an ultrasound scan. Her partner Tomek Sobol sat beside her playing a game on his phone. Petra estimated she was around twelve weeks pregnant and was worried about the future. Her relationship with Tomek was stormy, to say the least, and at times he had an aggressive nature. She sometimes wondered why she stayed with him but she faced a bleak future on her own with her meagre wages. Together they could rent somewhere decent to live, whereas singly she would be limited to a room in a shared house. Tomek had worked hard and now ran his own building company, which although small, was profitable and he was hoping to take on more staff. Petra contributed to their finances through a couple of low paid cleaning jobs.

  ‘How much longer? God, we are waiting nearly an hour now. I got work to do,’ sighed Tomek.

  ‘I go and ask, about the list,’ said Petra.

  ‘Please, how long we wait?’ she asked the receptionist. ‘Petra Drabek, my name.’

  ‘I’ll just check for you,’ said the young woman, looking at her computer screen.

  ‘There is one lady in front of you and then you are next. Shouldn’t be too long now.’

  ‘OK, thank you.’

  Tomek heard the conversation and muttered a few Polish curses to himself. Petra had been born in Pilsen, near Prague and thus she and Tomek were forced to communicate in English. At times it was strange, as it meant that their most emotional exchanges were conducted in a language foreign to both of them. She clung to the fact that once their English became fluent, the slightly stilted conversations would disappear.

  Resigned to waiting, Tomek began to check through his messages and slid down in his seat, stretching his legs out, a sullen expression on his face. He was in his late twenties and had a tall, strong muscular build. His close-cropped light brown hair revealed his chiselled facial features. He had shed his jacket due to the warm waiting room and his biceps filled the arms of his short-sleeved polo top.

  Petra sat silently beside her partner. His bulk dwarfed her and emphasised her frail appearance. She barely weighed eight stones and at five feet six inches tall she looked almost emaciated. With her high cheekbones and her hair pulled back into a ponytail her face appeared gaunt. Her anxiety showed in her tight face and neck muscles.

  Her pregnancy had been unexpected and although she was using contraception she had been unwell with a vomiting bug. It must have reduced the effectiveness of her pill and although she had warned Tomek that they should take other precautions, he refused. It had been several weeks before she told him about her pregnancy and initially, it had been received badly. They had debated at length about whether to terminate her pregnancy but Tomek felt strongly that abortion was wrong and after some tense weeks both had realised that they should look forward to a new addition to their family. On better days, Tomek actually seemed excited about the prospect and talked about the things he would do with the baby. So in recent weeks, she had begun to feel that a child would help cement their relationship.

  **

  In another part of Persford Hospital, the duty doctor, Nathan Melrose was busy with his ward rounds. Nathan read through the notes in the folder for Pete Davis, the victim who was currently recovering from emergency surgery for bullet wounds to his leg. The patient additionally bore facial wounds and cumulatively he’d lost a lot of blood and had been extremely fortunate.

  ‘How are you feeling, Mr Davis?’ asked the doctor.

  ‘Sleepy. My leg hurts like fuck.’

  ‘I’ll get the nurse to give you more pain relief. How’s the head?’

  ‘Sore.’

  ‘Can you remember what happened last night?’

  ‘Not really. Some thugs stole my car. It’s all a blur. Argghh!’

  ‘Try to rest. I’ll organise the pain relief.’

  The police were keen to speak to him as soon as he was conscious and well enough but Nathan had warned them that it might be a while yet. The doctor checked the drip lines, made some notes in the folder and then moved on to the next patient.

  Chapter 5

  Petra lay on the bed as the probe was pressed on to her abdomen. The grainy images were hard to interpret from her prostrate position. The sonographer had a serious look on her face and kept clicking buttons on the console to enlarge the images.

  ‘Petra, I’d like you to stay there for a few minutes, I’m going to consult one of my colleagues. I won’t be long.’

  ‘What’s the problem?’ asked Tomek, aggressively. ‘Don’t we get a picture?’

  ‘As I said, sir, I’ll be back soon.’

  ‘What the fuck is going on?’ said Tomek when they were alone. ‘I’ve lost almost a morning here. There are probl
ems at the site. I’ve no reception in this room either.’

  ‘Please calm down. You make me nervous,’ said Petra. ‘Don’t get angry with the lady.’

  ‘She doesn’t know what she’s doing, That is problem. Hopeless.’

  The sonographer returned with a colleague who wasn’t wearing a uniform.

  ‘Hello,’ she said to the couple, then looked at the images in silence. ‘Thank you, send them through to me,’ she said to the sonographer and then left the room, glancing momentarily Petra and Tomek.

  ‘What’s the matter? asked Petra, her voice had become high pitched. ‘Is my baby OK?’

  ‘We need to speak to you for a few minutes. Please get dressed and I’ll show you to a room where one of my colleagues will discuss some things with you.’

  ‘Has my baby died? Is there a heartbeat?’

  ‘Please try to stay calm. No, your baby is still alive. Would you like tea or coffee?’

  ‘Er, tea, please.’

  ‘And you sir?’

  ‘Nothing, thank you,’ said Tomek aggressively.

  The sonographer left the couple and went to find one of her colleagues.

  ‘There’s something wrong,’ said Tomek. ‘It’s obvious. The baby’s not right. I know it.’

  Petra felt close to tears. A dreadful feeling had washed over her. She had been worried since the day she fell pregnant but had been unable to share her concerns with Tomek. There was an awful road ahead and this could be the end of their relationship.

  **

  Alex Goodwood had a busy day ahead. He had moved to a new role within the Financial Conduct Authority, the FCA, and now held a senior position in the newly formed Office for Professional Body Anti-Money Laundering Supervision. It was an unwieldy title and the acronym, OPBAS, didn’t flow much more easily off the tongue. This particular department had only been set up six months ago and was yet to prove its worth. Alex had been involved since its inception and knew only too well how much scope there was to clamp down on money laundering in the UK. It was the unit’s job to oversee financial institutions such as accountancy firms and banks used by business and to ensure that they operated the necessary due diligence checks when large sums were changing hands. Offshore tax havens were notoriously difficult to investigate thus providing the ideal hiding place for large sums which had often travelled on a circuitous route around the globe.

  His phone rang. ‘Hi, Olivia,’ he answered, ‘good to hear from you!’

  ‘Hi, Alex, how’s the new job going?’

  Olivia Frensman had been Alex’s colleague in his former job at the FCA and they had enjoyed a good working relationship. Alex would have really liked Olivia to accompany him to his new department but it wasn’t currently possible due to manning constraints.

  ‘It’s going well, thanks. Still getting to grips with things but I’m doing what I can. So are you all missing me back there?’

  ‘Of course. It’s not the same without you! We are getting the chance to take it easy now you aren’t cracking the whip,’ she joked. ‘Anyway, how’s the family? Kids OK?’

  ‘Oh, they’re fine. Busy spending all my money as usual. But never mind me, when is that James going to make an honest woman of you?’

  ‘Ha, well, I need to pin him down to a date. Watch out for a “Save the Date” card.’

  ‘I’ll look forward to it.’

  ‘Anyway, I’ve something which might brighten your day.’

  ‘Oh, yes? Sounds interesting.’

  ‘It is indeed, very. We really need to meet up but I’ll email you something in the meantime.’

  ‘Can’t you give me a clue?’

  ‘Well, let’s just say it’s not quite on the scale of the Paradise Papers but it’s big. Believe me. I think that we might be able to finally tie up some loose ends which have been evading us for some time now.’

  Alex’s mind was working overtime now. He had an inkling of what Olivia might be referring to and if that were the case she was just about to make him a very happy man.

  ‘I’m starting to get your drift. I think I might owe you a drink if I’m thinking along the right lines.’

  ‘I think it will be more like an expensive meal, not a drink. Read what I send you and get back to me. We may need to work together on this one. I think we might be able to rattle some cages. It’s been a while but time may be up for certain parties.’

  ‘You’ve hooked me now. Send me the details and I’ll get right on to it.’

  ‘Bye for now. See you soon.’

  ‘Bye Olivia and thanks.’

  Alex kept refreshing his inbox and after a couple of minutes, the document arrived. He opened it and began to read. As he worked his way down the document a smile began to play on his lips. A familiar name appeared. ‘Oh, yes, oh yes,’ he murmured to himself.

  **

  Petra was sipping her vending machine cup of tea when the door opened and a nurse entered the room.

  ‘Hello, I’m Debbie.’

  Petra nodded and gave a nervous smile whilst Tomek looked on sternly.

  ‘Now, we’ve just completed your twelve-week scan and I’m very sorry to tell you that your baby appears to have some problems.’

  Petra looked close to tears, Tomek merely stared at the nurse.

  ‘The baby has some serious deformities, I’m so sorry.’

  Petra burst into tears and Tomek put his arm around her solicitously.

  ‘But why?’ she wailed. ‘Oh, God, I don’t believe it.’

  ‘It’s not uncommon, I’m sad to say. In cases like this, we like to ask some questions but we can do them another time if you would prefer.’

  ‘It’s OK,’ she replied. ‘What questions?’

  ‘Have you been drinking during pregnancy?’

  ‘No, nothing. As soon as I find out I stop.’

  ‘Have you taken any drugs such as ecstasy, cannabis, heroin, amphetamine?’

  ‘No, of course not!’

  ‘Have you taken any prescription medication not issued by your doctor.’

  ‘How would she have done that?’ spat Tomek.

  ‘I have to ask, sir.’

  Petra became agitated. She wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her top. ‘No,’ she replied without looking at the nurse. ‘I not feel well. Dizzy.’

  ‘Put your head down. I’ll get you some water,’ said the nurse.

  Tomek rubbed his girlfriend’s back as she sat with her head forward.

  ‘Here, drink this,’ he said when the nurse returned with a cup of water.

  Petra sat up and looked a little better now that the blood had returned to her head.

  ‘We have some leaflets for you to take away. This is about your choices. We strongly advise a termination. You would need to make an appointment to come back here when you have decided.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ said Petra. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘This is a leaflet about counselling and support for women in your situation. They will also be able to talk about what happens next. They are very helpful. I would encourage you to speak to them.’

  ‘OK, thank you,’ she replied.

  ‘I’ll leave you now. There’s no rush to leave the room, wait until you feel better.’

  ‘Thank you, nurse,’ said Tomek, ‘we take a few minutes.’

  ‘Of course, goodbye.’

  The couple sat with their arms around each other. Although he didn’t show it, Tomek was just as sad and shocked. He couldn’t understand it. Petra was only in her mid-twenties. She was healthy and had been eating a good diet. Why had this happened?

  Once Petra had wiped her face they left the room. Petra was devastated. Her baby was seriously ill. She had a termination to face and she had just lied to the nurse. She was hurt and ashamed. What would Tomek do if he found out the reason? He mustn’t.

  Chapter 6

  After three hours sleep, Andy Walters had arrived at work and was now drinking a strong coffee whilst reading Sean Bailey’s depressing criminal record. He had a slight
headache through lack of sleep and applied pressure to a point above his left eye as he stared at his monitor. During Sean’s twenty-six years on earth, he’d been a regular visitor to police stations, beginning his criminal career at the age of fifteen when he’d been convicted of stealing and driving without a licence or insurance. A brief stay in a young offender’s institution had equipped him with many other illegal skills and by the age of twenty-one, he’d amassed double-digit convictions ranging from assault to drug dealing.

  Three years ago he’d been jailed for supply and possession of small amounts of heroin and cocaine and larger quantities of ecstasy and amphetamine. A guilty plea had meant his sentence was reduced to twelve months. Since then he’d remained under the radar apart from a caution following a brawl at a nightclub where he’d been employed. Not just any nightclub, thought Andy to himself but The Flamingo, owned until recently by his old nemesis Ron Radford. Whilst he realised that an owner was in no way responsible for the violent behaviour of employees his interest was piqued. Could the current case be linked in some way to the owner of Brensford Manor? He thought back to the suspected imprisonment of a young woman who claimed she was held somewhere on his sprawling estate. How close had they come to proving Radford’s involvement?

  Sean’s career of any description was now over but from the nature and location of the crime, Andy suspected he had revisited his old drug-dealing ways. Blood tests and forensic examination of his clothing would show whether it was a sound assumption. The full report should help build up a picture of the crime and whether it was part of a bigger enterprise.

  His phone rang.

  ‘Andy Walters,’ he answered.

  ‘Andy, morning, Chris Mills. Sorry I missed your call.’ Inspector Mills was from the Drugs Squad and Andy had been in touch regarding Sean Bailey.

  ‘Chris, thanks for getting back to me. Mike asked me to keep you in the loop about something which happened last night. Does the name Sean Bailey ring any bells?’

  ‘Oh, yes, he has crossed my path a few times but he’s not been troubling me recently.’