Brett’s mind wandered back to his evening in London with Jake Marsfield and his financial advisor. Prior to the meeting, he had been nervous and had expected to have to spend ages presenting all the positive attributes of PersCure but it had been so easy. They had practically thrown the money at him. Perhaps that should have set the alarm bells ringing? He had kept that piece of information to himself and hadn’t been entirely truthful with Matt about how the evening had gone. However, Jake Marsfield was clearly one devious bastard if their accountants hadn’t spotted any signs of money laundering. He shouldn’t feel too guilty. Hopefully, there would be a path through this setback.
Chapter 21
The following week...
Christian Dalton was looking at the occupancy rate for trials at ClinTry and saw that they had improved considerably over the last couple of months. By his latest calculations, they were now at eighty-two percent occupancy up from sixty-five, when Ron Radford had assumed ownership. Currently, they were running another rheumatoid arthritis Phase II study and today he would be finalising dates for another Phase II study with UP-627 for patients suffering from glioblastoma multiforme.
There was a knock at his door.
‘Come in!’ he shouted.
‘Christian, sorry to disturb you but I’ve just signed for this letter. It’s marked urgent so I’ve brought it straight into you.’
‘Thanks,’ Fay.
‘Can I get you a coffee or tea?’
‘Er, coffee would be good, thanks.’
‘I’ll be back in five minutes.’
Christian finished the email he was currently writing and then looked at the envelope. It was postmarked London and on the reverse were the initials MHRA. Christian frowned and sighed. He recognised the initials and it doubtless meant more work for him. The Medicines and Healthcare Products Regulatory Agency was responsible for ensuring the safety of patients undergoing clinical trials and from time to time carried out routine inspections. It was a bit like an Ofsted inspection at a school, in this case, they observed how trials were conducted and whether all the necessary paperwork was in order.
He opened the letter and began to read. His suspicions were correct. They were going to visit the following week. They listed all the documents they were going to need to see and which particular aspects of the unit they wanted to check to ensure compliance with GLP, Good Laboratory Practice. However, towards the end of the letter Christian’s heart began to race. There was a particular issue about which they wanted clarification. He stared at the words again. He was muttering ‘Shit, shit,’ to himself when his coffee arrived.
‘Are you OK?’ asked Fay.
‘Hmmm?’ he replied.
‘Sorry, you look like you’ve had bad news.’
‘Oh, no, it’s just a load of extra work which has landed on me,’ he lied.
He drank his coffee and realised that not only was he going to have to get himself out of a hole but he would have to let Ron know about this. He wasn’t going to be happy, not happy at all.
**
‘Thank you for attending the FCA offices this morning, Mr Marsfield,’ said Olivia Frensman. She was conducting this morning’s interview without Alex Goodwood, however, her assistant Dominic was sitting beside her.
‘My solicitor, Henry Peake,’ said Jake.
The solicitor shook hands with Olivia and Dominic, smiling confidently.
‘Thank you for your cooperation and answering the questions we supplied. You have been most thorough. This approach is welcomed and has been taken into consideration.’ She paused and shuffled some papers in front of her.
‘We accept that your decision to set up offshore accounts is entirely within the law, however, you have failed to demonstrate that any tax was paid on these funds. We have also been able to trace some transactions carried out in your name, in addition to those traced to Giles Wentworth which shows that you also benefited from insider knowledge prior to a press release regarding a discovery by BioQex.’
‘My client invested in many companies during that period, there is no proof that this was specifically done on insider information. The timing could have been entirely coincidental,’ said Henry Peake.
‘We note your comments,’ said Olivia, angling her head at Dominic who was jotting things down.
‘If I may continue. Approximately two months ago you actioned Theo Henchard, your accomplice...’
‘I must object! Accomplice implies a crime. Mr Henchard was acting as a financial advisor to my client, through his company.’
‘A shell company, in fact,’ added Olivia.
‘Nothing illegal in that,’ replied Henry.
‘Our tax advisors have calculated the amount of unpaid tax, income and capital gains,’ said Olivia. ‘I am sure you are probably aware of the sort of figure we have arrived at.’
Jake Marsfield shrugged casually.
‘As you are aware, tax evasion is a serious offence, it can lead to a custodial sentence.’
‘I think you would have trouble bringing a case against my client on those grounds,’ said Henry. ‘
‘We are willing to accept that apart from this case, Mr Marsfield has not indulged in any attempt at tax evasion before and we seriously hope that this will be an opportunity to learn that the FCA will be watching subsequent transactions carefully. Our main aim is to recoup money which should have been paid to HMRC.’
‘I trust that we can come to some payment arrangements, perhaps over a period of years?’ suggested the solicitor.
‘Unfortunately not. If we are to avoid a prosecution we will require the fine to be paid in full.’
‘Can we see your calculations?’ said Jake.
‘We have it all here along with explanatory notes,’ said Olivia, passing over several sheets to the pair before her. ‘The total comes to four hundred and twenty-six thousand and fifty-two pounds.’
**
Maureen was driving Ron to his appointment for his CT angiogram. Since moving to Brensford Manor, Ron had told her she was welcome to drive his Range Rover anytime he wasn’t using it but she preferred her own smaller Ford Fiesta. This appointment was at Persford General, not Sandhills private hospital and she hoped Ron would be able to refrain from criticising the NHS if they weren’t running to time.
‘I don’t mind if you drop me and then go shopping in town,’ he said. ‘Besides, we might not get a parking space. It’s mid-morning, the car park will be packed.’
‘Let’s see when we get there,’ Maureen replied tactfully.
‘Oh, you could have gone through then,’ said Ron, critically. ‘Why did you stop?’
‘Because it was already on red,’ she said wearily. Ron wasn’t the most patient driver at the best of times but this morning his anxiety was making him particularly irascible. He had been told to avoid caffeinated drinks for twenty-four hours and that also wasn’t helping his mood.
‘My head’s getting worse,’ said Ron, ‘it’s pounding. Perhaps I drink too much coffee.’
‘Maybe we should get some decaffeinated, or half caffeinated,’ said Maureen.
‘Possibly, I’ve never been keen on it before,’ he pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. ‘If they ask me how I am today I’ll tell them I feel like a bag of crap.’
‘No you won’t,’ said Maureen.
‘Why do they ask that when you are obviously going to hospital for investigation, it really winds me up.’
‘Here we are,’ she said, indicating to turn into the car park which did look busy.
‘Didn’t I say so, fucking packed solid,’ said Ron.
Just then Maureen noticed a car’s reversing lights come on so she held back so it could manoeuvre out of the space. ‘This will do,’ she said, pulling into the space.
‘You might have been better reversing in,’ advised Ron.
‘Well, I’m in now,’ said Maureen. This morning was proving to be more trying than she’d anticipated.
As they were walking
towards the main entrance, Ron’s mobile rang. He stopped to answer it.
‘Morning, Christian,’ he answered.
Ron put a hand up to Maureen and they stepped to one side out of the way whilst Ron listened to the caller. She could see that all was not well as Ron’s face darkened and he began pacing around, a clear sign he didn’t like what he was hearing.
‘You are fucking joking,’ she heard him say.
‘Oh, dear,’ sighed Maureen to herself.
‘What? Jesus fucking Christ. That’s all we need. Look, you better sort this out and make sure we are covered.’ Ron was shouting now and Maureen was starting to feel embarrassed. Other patients and visitors were starting to look over towards him. She motioned to him and tapped her watch. They had been asked to attend at least half an hour before the time of the actual scan. Ron looked over and nodded.
‘I’ve got to go now,’ said Ron. ‘Thanks very much for making me even more agitated before my medical appointment. Call yourself a doctor! Never mind, just shut up and get on with your job. I’ll phone you later.’
He disconnected and stomped off towards the entrance, ignoring Maureen and marching into the hospital looking at the board showing where the departments were located. Maureen had already looked on the map where they were to go so she walked past him and headed down the corridor without speaking.
‘Maureen!’ he shouted, ‘Second floor! Where are you going?’
‘To the lift,’ she said without turning back. ‘I know where it is.’ It wasn’t just Ron who needed a coffee and once he was taken into the X-ray room she would head off to the cafe for a bit of quiet time.
Chapter 22
‘So, do you want to go home or get a cup of tea here at the cafe?’ asked Maureen after Ron’s CT angiogram.
‘Neither, I want you to drop me at ClinTry. I’ll get a coffee there?’
‘What? You need to go home and take it easy for the rest of today.’
‘I’m not an invalid, Maureen. Stop fussing. God, did you used to pester Hubert like this?’ Ron immediately regretted his words. ‘Maureen, I’m sorry. That was unkind. I’m sorry.’
‘I rather wish you’d got a taxi here,’ she said, her voice wavering. ‘You’ve been impossible all day. Criticising my driving, my parking, getting angry with Christian. I’m fed up with you.’
He grabbed her hand. ‘Sorry, I just don’t like hospitals. My hand hurts like hell where they inserted the cannula, bloody useless nurse.’
‘Look, there you go again, moaning about people. What do you think it’s like for me worrying about your heart and whether you are going to keel over?’
‘I don’t deserve you,’ said Ron. ‘Look, let’s go home and have some tea. I’m starving as well. Then I’ll phone Christian and I promise not to get annoyed.’
Maureen smiled. ‘That’s better. But I’m warning you, one comment about me driving too slowly or waiting at a red light and I’ll turf you out of the car and you can walk the rest of the way. Or get a bus!’
Ron gave her a peck on the cheek and realised he’d overstepped the mark. He knew that he could be a bad-tempered old bugger but he just liked to feel in control and suddenly after a period of stability at ClinTry a problem had once again reared its head.
**
Matt and Brett were meeting once more with Hilary Worksop. Since Ian’s revelation about the FCA investigation or more specifically from OPBAS it had been a very tense time whilst they heard back from their accountants and sought legal advice.
‘So, the bottom line,’ said Brett, ‘is that Lovesey and Hawkes completed all the due diligence on Jake Marsfield to the letter of the law.’
‘Yes, but OPBAS reckon they didn’t investigate the directors of the shell company set up by Theo Henchard, if they had been more thorough, they might have had their suspicions.’
‘True, that’s where they fell foul of the FCA. However, their previous record of compliance is exemplary.’
‘It could still be a stumbling block for us as we make a case to ensure the University continues with an interest,’ said Hilary.
‘Our solicitor says that Lovesey and Hawkes will bear the brunt of any fine issued. However, they might try to pass on some of the blame to us.’
‘What happens then?
‘Well, it might be beneficial if we agree to share the cost. As a gesture of goodwill to ensure we still get charged good rates by them. Some sort of out of court settlement, shall we call it, might be the best option for both of us,’ suggested Brett.
‘Will they appeal?’
‘They could but I don’t think it’s advisable. It’s best just to pay up because losing an appeal would cost them more.’
‘Will our name be cited as well?
‘They are going to try to ask that PersCure is kept out of the press.’
‘Will they succeed?’
‘Not sure.’ said Brett, shrugging.
‘What sort of fine are we talking about?’
‘Well, that’s not such good news.’
‘So, how much?’
‘Around fifty grand. That’s the estimate. There are specific ways they calculate it depending on the amount of money involved and so on.
‘Oh, God, that much?’
‘Well, the worst case is that we split it fifty-fifty and I think it’s best to just pay it and draw a line under the whole thing. Then we can move on.’
‘I see,’ said Hilary looking downcast.
‘It’s just been unfortunate. Surely there aren’t too many like Jake Marsfield around?’ said Brett, positively.
Matt had allowed his friend to do the talking. It never ceased to amaze him how Brett could remain so upbeat in situations like this.
‘Well, I don’t want to sound pessimistic but I’m afraid it’s not strengthened our case for keeping PersCure under the wing of the University.’
‘Well, they are blowing this out of proportion. These things happen all the time in business. It just goes to show how detached from reality universities are,’ said Brett.
‘And that includes me, does it?’ retorted Hilary.
Matt realised it was time to intervene. ‘I think what Brett is trying to say is that the University shouldn’t focus on this one issue and forget all the positives of being associated with a promising treatment for glioblastoma. That’s what we must remember.’
‘I agree, they shouldn’t focus on it but in this age of financial constraints everyone is bidding for their slice of the pie and bad publicity will be exploited by those who want to promote themselves at the expense of others. Bits of gossip like this are always leaked. It’s quite cut-throat here, despite you imagining that everyone is so naïve,’ she said, looking at Brett.
‘Well, there’s not much more we can do, in the end, it’s their choice. It will be their loss,’ said Brett.
‘Well, I’ll let you know if I hear anything. I don’t think the date has been set for the final decision. I’ll keep you posted.’
‘Perhaps we could have a coffee sometime,’ Brett asked Hilary.
‘I’m a bit busy,’ she said, avoiding his gaze.
The two men left her office.
‘I think she’s gone off you,’ joked Matt.
‘Nonsense, she’s just playing hard to get. She won’t be able to resist my charm for long. She’ll be contacting me, you’ll see.’
**
Ron and Maureen were taking tea on the terrace overlooking the garden and his mood was now much calmer after his bad temper at the hospital.
‘I’ll send the invitations out next week then,’ said Maureen. ‘It’s a bit of a formality really as we know who is coming but people like to get an official invitation.’
‘Fine, they look lovely by the way. Thirty-one is the final number?’ said Ron.
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘I can’t believe it’s so soon. It can’t come quickly enough for me.’ He took hold of her hand and kissed it.
‘Well, no more grumpy moods like t
his morning,’ she said, slapping him lightly on the chest. ‘I’ll book that Bassini string quartet, next. They’ve sent through a suggestion of music which they think is appropriate. Do you want to see it?’
‘No, it’s OK, you deal with that,’ Ron looked at his watch. ‘Right, I’ll go and phone Christian, see you later.’
‘Please try not to get too agitated,’ implored Maureen.
‘Scouts’ honour!’ said Ron. ‘I’ll be a good boy.’
Maureen smiled then opened her notebook with her wedding plans. Everything was coming together and her outfit which was undergoing minor alteration should be ready for fitting next week. She hoped everything would go to plan and it would be an elegant and intimate occasion without any outbursts from her fiancé.
**
Ron listened as Christian made his excuses. He had his angina spray at the ready in case the pain started to grip his chest.
‘So, let me summarise. You think you told this Petra woman that she should use an additional method of contraception but there is no paperwork signed by her to say she understood the instructions.’
‘Yes, I’m sure I explained to her. Her English wasn’t that good but it was adequate.’
‘Well, it was good enough to tell the hospital that she took part in a clinical trial, wasn’t it?’
‘Apparently.’
‘And what is also apparent is that either you didn’t get her to sign all the paperwork properly or you’ve lost it?’
‘It seems so but I can carry on looking. It might have got in another file. It’s possible both the original and a copy has gone off to our external storage facility. I was under a lot of strain at the time.’
‘And now I’m under a lot of strain worrying about your incompetence, isn’t that right?’
‘That’s a bit strong, Ron. We have so much paperwork here and despite being undermanned things have been running well at ClinTry recently.’
‘Yes, they have. I might have known it was too good to be true and it would only be a matter of time before you fucked up.’
‘I have not fucked up. Who was it who insisted that I swap the Phase I participants for your desperate group of non-British nationals? You. All so you could save a bit of money. Don’t forget you forced me. Also, I might add you forced me to be unethical in bumping patients off the Phase II trial.’ Christian realised he’d allowed himself to be needled by Ron. He hoped he’d not gone too far.
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