‘Now that would be telling, wouldn’t it?’ winked Alex. ‘I wasn’t interested in the money, you know me, my motives are much more ethical.’
‘Oh, so they paid for a personality transplant as well! Or was it a lobotomy?’ joked Olivia.
‘You’ve worked it out! But you can’t see the scar,’ said Alex, lifting up his fringe to reveal his forehead.
They drank their wine, content in each other’s company for a few moments.
‘Well, we should be able to get a first interview organised in a week or so. I’ll let you know the location,’ said Olivia, breaking the silence.
‘What about contacting the company at the centre of all this?’
‘That will be secondary. They’ll get a bit of a shock. I suspect after that last incident they will think that it’s all forgotten and in the past.’
‘Well, it’s unfortunate they are caught up in it again. It’s going to be bad publicity for them.’
‘Yes, it’s true but they should have employed better people to do the vetting. I just hope for their sakes that they aren’t involved in any way. We can’t assume they are innocent in all this.’
‘No, it wouldn’t be the first time there’s been collusion and profits have been split. After all, it’s taken long enough to unravel this scenario.’
Olivia looked past Alex as she saw their next course arriving.
‘Veal, sir,’ said the waiter, ‘and halibut for you, madam.’
‘Thank you,’ they both replied.
‘Can I get you anything else?’
‘No, that will be fine,’ said Alex.
Talk of work was halted for a while as they ate their beautifully presented meals. Alex topped up Olivia’s glass with the Chablis which helped their already positive mood.
Chapter 9
The patient on Hailsham Ward of Persford General had been warned to expect a visit from the police but had been reassured by Dr Melrose that the interview would be limited to ten minutes.
DC Dave Goodman accompanied by DS Shani Patel introduced themselves to the nurse at the desk.
‘I’ll just go and find the nurse who’s looking after him.’
‘Thank you,’ replied Dave, unable to read her name badge before she disappeared.
The two detectives wandered along the corridor reading some of the notice boards. After a few minutes, another nurse approached them.
‘Hi, I’m Staff Nurse Barbara, I’ll take you into the patient, this way.’
The patient was in a side room off the main corridor. As they entered the room and approached the bed, the patient opened his eyes and looked at them impassively. He had a dressing on his forehead, what looked like a couple of stitches next to his eye and a cannula connected to a drip in one arm. The other was adorned with a tattoo, extending the whole length of the arm, making it look like he was wearing a colourful top under his hospital gown.
‘Good afternoon, Mr Davis, I’m Detective Constable Goodman and this is Detective Sergeant Patel. We’d like to speak to you about the events of last night.’ Both officers remained standing at the bottom of the bed facing the patient.
‘I can’t remember much,’ he replied.
Shani picked up the chart from the holder at the end of the bed. ‘Pete Davis, date of birth, 7th March 1980.’
‘That’s me.’
‘Your registered address is 17, Blenheim Close, Persford?’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘So can you tell us what happened?’ continued Shani whilst DC Goodman took notes of the interview.
‘I was driving through Breckton, stopped at some traffic lights and all of a sudden I was set upon by a gang who opened my door, shot me and stole my car.’
‘So what was your car registration, the one which was stolen?’
‘I can’t remember, I’ve only had it a couple of days. Well, it’s not mine actually, I borrowed it.’
‘Who did you borrow it from?’
‘A mate of a mate.’
‘This mate’s name?’
‘Billy.’
‘Surname?’
‘I just know him as Billy. I drink with him sometimes.’
‘Which pub?’
‘Here and there. It depends how we feel.’
Dave Goodman sighed. He realised the man before him wasn’t going to tell the truth but there was little they could do until they had enough evidence to charge him with an offence.
‘So, can you remember anything about the people who attacked you?’ asked Shani.
‘I got hit on the head when I put up a fight.’ The patient pointed to the dressing. ‘Then they shot me in the leg. The doctor told me they took out two bullets.’
‘We found your car, not far away from where the ambulance picked you up.’
‘Really? Well, that’s good. Where was it?’
‘Parked in front of a solicitor’s office. A bit odd, don’t you think?’
Pete Davis shrugged.
‘The other odd thing is that the seat was completely soaked in blood yet you claim they shot you and stole your car straight away.’
‘They did shoot me and I did everything I could to stay in the car. That’s how so much blood must have got on the seat.’ The patient winced and closed his eyes.
‘Would you be willing to give a DNA sample, for elimination purposes?’
‘No. You’ll need to get a warrant if you want my DNA?’
‘Why? Is it because it would be on file?’ asked Shani.
The patient remained silent but grinned at Shani and looked her up and down. She looked away.
‘We’ll be back to question you again, sir. When we have the forensic report from the car,’ said Shani. ‘You better have a more convincing story.’
Pete started to cough and splutter. He moaned in agony. ‘My leg! Fuck! It hurts! Nurse!’ He appeared to press the call button which was lying on the bed next to his right hand.
The same nurse, Barbara, rushed in and went to check on the patient. She must have been waiting at the nurses’ station in case he called for assistance.
‘Do you need more pain relief, Pete?’
‘It’s a bit better now. I don’t think so. Oh, my chest feels tight. Oh, God, I don’t feel well. I feel faint. I’m going to be sick.’ He appeared to retch. The nurse placed a kidney-shaped cardboard dish on the bed in front of him. The patient had collapsed back on the pillows looking pained, moaning quietly and mumbling incoherently.
‘I think you need to leave Mr Davis in peace now. He’s had a bad injury and needs to rest. He’s becoming distressed.’
‘He must have been having acting lessons before he was injured,’ said Dave coldly. ‘We’ll be back.’
‘I think you should leave now,’ said the nurse. ‘I need to check his blood pressure.’
Dave and Shani left. It had been a fruitless visit but not entirely unexpected.
‘I’ve not come across him before,’ said Shani. ‘I don’ recognise him.’
‘Nor me,’ replied Dave.
‘He was odious. He looked like he was trying to intimidate me by staring right at me.’
‘He’s a git. Forget him.’
‘Right, let’s get back to the station and see what’s happening. Check whether we’ve got anything on camera for the car Pete claims he borrowed.’ Shani made the sign of inverted commas when he mentioned the word borrowed.
‘Yes, let’s get out of here, I hate hospitals,’ said her colleague.
In the ward, the patient smiled to himself. It had been a casual chat and not too onerous. He didn’t intend to be interviewed at the station. He was feeling much better than he had indicated and hopefully, soon he would be out of here and out of Persford until the dust settled. He reached into the locker beside the bed to retrieve his mobile. He needed to make a phone call to set the ball rolling.
**
Maureen and Ron were back from lunch and thankfully Ron’s mood had improved somewhat. Upon leaving the surgery, Maureen had remain
ed silent whilst Ron muttered and moaned about doctors and health matters in general. By the time they reached the cafe he seemed to have got it out of his system and he was the first to raise the subject of their wedding. Once they focused on that, his affable mood returned and he apologised for his bad temper. Over lunch, they had decided on September 25th and would try to book the registrar for noon so that they could have a lunchtime meal immediately following the ceremony. Maureen had already made enquiries about availability for a mid-week wedding and there were several time slots available.
‘I’ll just pop down to my office. Hopefully, Laura hasn’t had too many problems whilst we were out.’
‘OK but we’ve things to discuss, don’t be long. Do you fancy some tea?’
‘No thanks, see you in a few minutes.’
Maureen switched on the kettle to make some tea and her mobile rang.
‘Mrs Welch, Francis Harcourt.’
‘Hello, Mr Harcourt.’
‘There’s nothing to worry about, I just wanted to let you know that we finished the final valuation of your late husband’s estate and have sent off the application for probate.’
‘Oh, well, that’s excellent. When do you think it will be granted.’
‘I would think about four to six weeks. Then it will take time to transfer the assets, some can be transferred quite quickly. The property business will take longer but I would hope that everything will be sorted out by say November all being well.’
‘Oh, do you know how things are progressing with the sale of my house?’
‘We’ve had a note from the buyer’s solicitor and they should be ready to sign contracts in about two weeks.’
‘Excellent, that is good news.’
‘I’ll send you a copy of the accounts to date. If anything isn’t clear don’t hesitate to give me a call.’
‘OK, thank you, Mr Harcourt.’
‘Goodbye, Mrs Welch. Have a good day.’
Whilst her tea was brewing, Maureen went out to the garden. Was it really less than six months since she had been counting down the days until her divorce and then events had taken such a dramatic turn? Now she was installed in Brensford Manor with a lifestyle she could never have dreamed about. Her early life hadn’t been exactly hard but neither had it been very enjoyable. Now, she had found romance and luxury just when she thought she faced decades of loneliness. Life was full of surprises.
**
Andy Walters was attending the post-mortem of Sean Bailey. Despite some quips at the scene of the crime, the pathologist, Alistair Gordon was respectful to the deceased when they finally arrived on his dissection table. Whatever their past misdemeanours they deserved to be treated with courtesy at the end, as they were in no position to answer back or defend themselves.
Alistair was dictating his observations into a handheld recorder whilst his assistant Cassie took photographs and samples from the exterior of the corpse. The pathologist hailed from Edinburgh and possessed a subtle Scottish accent. His affable nature had enabled him to foster good working relationships with his police colleagues and he was greatly respected by all members of the force.
Prior to removal from the scene, the victim’s hands had been sealed in plastic bags to preserve any tissue samples. Cassie scraped out the residue from beneath the nails and added it to plastic vials which would be sent for analysis. It was always possible that there had been some sort of scuffle and he had managed to scratch his assailant.
‘The victim was stabbed twice. The first wound appears to have penetrated the right lung. I’ll be able to confirm that when I open him up. The wound is wider than the usual stab wound probably because he slumped down as he was stabbed and the knife then made a larger hole. There is another wound here which is cleaner and narrower.’
Cassie measured the opening, ‘Forty millimetres externally, hundred and twenty millimetres deep, for the first wound,’ she said. ‘The second is twenty-five millimetres across, externally and a hundred and forty-five millimetres deep.’
‘I would anticipate that this second wound penetrated the heart to some degree, again I’ll know more when I open him up,’ added Alistair.
‘Would death have been instantaneous?’ asked Andy.
‘Probably not. He would have been able to stagger a few metres I would estimate. He wouldn’t have lost consciousness immediately. He would have taken a few minutes to die.’
‘I can see some bruising on the face, here and here,’ he pointed. Cassie took photographs. ‘Perhaps someone kicked him as he fell down, then stabbed him again to make sure.’
‘Any signs of drug use?’ asked Andy.
‘I can’t see any track marks on the arms. So, probably not heroin. Blood analysis will give us more information.’
Alistair opened Sean’s mouth and peered inside. ‘He looks to have a full set of teeth, no obvious gaps but several are filled. He doesn’t look to have taken much care with dental hygiene. His teeth are stained and there’s a lot of tartar.’
Alistair worked his way down the body looking for any other wounds and distinguishing marks.
‘Left arm shows professional tattoos, his right arm has some amateurish ones, possibly self-inflicted in prison.’
Cassie took photographs.
‘There is a small scar here which is in the appendix region. That’s interesting. I hardly ever see signs of an appendectomy. Did you know that nowadays there will be doctors who work in emergency medicine who will never come across a patient with appendicitis?’
‘Er, no, I didn’t know that,’ replied Andy.
‘There is a bullet wound to his left calf.’ Alistair removed the bullet. ‘Looks like a nine millimetre to me. We’ll clean it up and send it to ballistics.’
He continued to look at the legs and feet. There were no other injuries apparent.
‘Well, up until that fateful night when he found himself on the wrong end of a sharp blade he appears to have been a healthy young man. Well-nourished, quite lean and muscular, not much spare fat. Probably went to a gym or did weight training at home. As I said, appearances can be deceptive though, we’ll take blood samples to get a full picture.’
‘Thanks doctor, I’ll wait for your report.’
‘Day after tomorrow most likely. Now, I’ll have a look inside. Are you going to stay?’
‘I don’t think I need to. Cause of death is clear from the stab wounds so I’ll be on my way,’ said Andy. ‘What about the other victim?’
‘Yes, I’ll get around to him this afternoon. Will you be back for that one?’
‘I might. Someone will attend though.’
‘Good luck with your investigations. Perhaps we could have a game of squash soon, it’s been a while.’
‘I’ll give you a call, once we’ve made some headway with this case,’ said Andy, pulling off his gown and rolling it up prior to depositing it in the laundry bin.
‘Great. Speak to you soon,’ replied Alistair.
Andy left the building and unwrapped some chewing gum to take away the smell and taste of the mortuary. He’d not waited to witness Alistair make the Y-shaped incision and peel back the flaps to reveal the chest cavity. He’d seen it before and always found it disquieting. He always tried to focus on a point across the room or think about something completely different but the sound of the ribs being cut through always penetrated those thoughts and brought with it a wave of nausea. He’d tried to desensitise himself to the more gory aspects by watching video footage of bodies being opened up and their organs being removed and weighed but he hadn’t been able to completely banish the revulsion he felt. As these memories flooded back he felt slightly light headed and held on to the wall of the building, taking some deep breaths.
As quickly as possible he rushed out into the fresh air. Checking his phone to distract himself he saw that he’d had a call from Chris Mills. He pressed call back and unlocked his car with the remote.
‘Chris, we keep missing each other.’
‘Andy, yes
, I’ve heard a whisper that I thought might interest you.’
Chapter 10
‘I’m happy for you to invite more people,’ said Ron.
‘I’ve only my sister Alice and her husband Roger, I doubt they’ll want to bring Charlie, he’s er, ‘ she paused, ‘well he’s not going to enjoy it.’ Charlie had severe learning difficulties and found large groups difficult. He was happiest in familiar surroundings. It was sad but there was no point in making him anxious.
‘OK but what about friends?’
‘I’ve not got many, the Shiptons and the Secombes. That’s four, plus Alice and Roger so that’s six.’
‘My brother Albert will doubtless want to come and make a nuisance of himself,’ said Ron. ‘I’m thinking it will be best not to invite him.’
‘You must! He’s your only relative!’ Besides I want to find out what you were like as a child.’
Ron’s mood turned cold. ‘Why do you want to go rooting around in the past? I’ve told you I didn’t have a privileged start in life. Isn’t that enough for you?’
‘Ron, I was joking, I don’t mean to upset you, sorry.’
‘I’m just a bit sensitive about my family, that’s all. I told you what a bastard my father was.’
‘Look, let’s forget what I said. I’m just worried that if Albert were to find out, well he might hold it against you? Family disputes aren’t nice.’
‘Let him, he’s not got the gumption. He’s got the personality of an earthworm. One of life’s losers.’
‘Ron, don’t be unkind. Not everyone can achieve what you have. Don’t put him down.’
‘He needs putting down,’ said Ron coldly. ‘Like you would with a useless dog.’
Maureen looked shocked. What on earth had got into Ron, his comments were unsavoury? She felt like ending their discussion there and then.
‘Ha! Maureen, don’t take everything so seriously! I was joking. He’s not such a bad old stick, just a bit set in his ways. I was pulling your leg, didn’t you realise?’
‘Sorry, I’m just getting a bit tense. I don’t know why but my head is in a bit of a whirl.’
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