‘Did you hear about that stabbing on Foal Lane?’
‘I did. Your boys came to speak to me about it. Seems that at one time I employed the chap who was killed. He must have gone off the rails since he was under my wing.’
‘It so often happens,’ agreed Peter.
‘I hope you don’t mind me saying but I didn’t take to that Detective Sergeant, now what was his name, Waters?’
‘Walters not Waters. He’s a good chap, generally but he’s a bit, shall we say blinkered. There have been a few instances when he seems to have a one-track mind. He really needs to look at things more objectively if he wants to progress through the ranks.’
‘He was rather aggressive in his questioning. I felt quite intimidated. Almost guilt by association.’
‘Well, don’t feel guilty. Some people are easily led and decide to turn to crime. Don’t beat yourself up about it.’
‘Well, I can’t help feeling in some way responsible. Perhaps if I’d kept him with me he wouldn’t have turned to crime. I was shocked because it seems another of my ex-employees was shot in the leg as a result of a car-jacking.’
‘Car-jacking?’ repeated Peter. ‘Oh, yes, I remember now.’
‘Why? That was it, wasn’t it?’
‘Oh, yes, yes,’ said Peter, hurriedly. You know what your problem is, Ron? Eh?’
Ron raised an eyebrow.
‘You’re too caring. You can’t wrap your employees in cotton wool. They are responsible for their own actions, try to remember that.’
‘Well, I suppose you’re right. I’ll try to follow your advice,’ said Ron, his shoulders relaxing slightly.
‘Well, as for this recent drugs enquiry, we didn’t seem to be making much progress. So I was pleased as Punch when the Drug Squad wanted to handle it, I didn’t put up much resistance. They’ve set up a special task force to investigate County Drug Lines. Got some experts with special training.’
‘That’s interesting,’ said Ron.
‘We are still providing assistance, as it’s on our patch but we are letting them lead the operation. They have to identify vulnerable youngsters and so it requires certain specialists and so on. I was glad to get shot of the responsibility. Between you and me it’s a nightmare, I doubt they will find the major players. Might get a few further down the pecking order.’
Ron eyed up his putt. This game had proved so useful.
‘Oh, bad luck,’ said Peter. ‘Never mind, only one over par.’
Ron didn’t care whether he made a complete hash of his game. He shouldn’t be troubled by any more visits from Walters and Harris. As for himself, now he could focus on his legitimate businesses.
**
On Saturday afternoon Andy Walters was in work. He’d attended a fatal stabbing over at the old MOD barracks just outside Persford. From their preliminary interviews, it looked like a love triangle where the husband had found out his wife had been having an affair, then tracked down the boyfriend. A vicious fight had ensued and the boyfriend was now on his way to the mortuary. The husband was currently at large but enquiries were ongoing to track him down.
He was still seething about having to drop the enquiry into the deaths of Sean Bailey and Travis Cripps. It was looking increasingly likely that there would no longer be any reason to visit Brensford Manor. Once more, the mercurial Ron Radford had slipped through his fingers. After he had completed a brief report about this morning’s crime, he turned his attention again to Hubert Welch’s suicide. He found the details of the post-mortem and the transcript from the inquest. It certainly all seemed above board. There had been no explanation provided about the strange marks on his wrists. He smiled to himself, was the late Mr Welch a fan of bondage and sex games? You could never tell. So often respectable people with conventional jobs sought excitement in their lives.
He stretched and leaned back in his chair. It was the weekend and time to give some attention to his family. Switching off his laptop he headed out into the sunshine.
**
Ron returned from his golf and couldn’t see Maureen anywhere in the garden or downstairs in the house. Her car was still outside and he could see her handbag on the hall table so presumably, she was at home. He called out but she didn’t reply. After pouring himself a glass of sparkling water he tiptoed upstairs to find her lying on the bed. As he crept back out of the bedroom, she must have sensed his presence as she stirred and turned over to look towards the door.
‘Ron, oh, hello, I was just having a nap. How was your game?’
‘Oh, it was good. I beat Peter easily,’ he lied.
‘Any problems with your chest?’
‘No, not at all,’ he lied again. ‘It’s not like you to nap in the afternoon.’
‘No, I felt exhausted. I’ve not been sleeping very well recently.’
‘Really? I didn’t notice.’
‘That’s because you’ve been fast asleep. I’ve crept downstairs a few nights recently and watched the TV on mute. It seems to settle me a bit and then I come back up for a couple of hours.’
‘What do you think is bothering you?’
‘Oh, I think it’s just my excitement about our wedding and all the arrangements. I think I might go and see my doctor and ask for some sleeping tablets, just to help in the short term.’
‘That sounds a good idea, phone up next week.’
‘I will don’t worry. Also, I need her to check my blood pressure.’
‘Are you sure that’s the only thing which has been worrying you?’
Maureen hesitated for a few seconds. ‘Well, no, I’ve also been thinking about Welch Properties. Pamela’s been emailing me about some things I need to sort out. She’s not been the same since Hubert died. She gets a bit flustered about things.’
‘You should have told me. I think I might be able to help.’
‘Oh, you’ve got enough on your plate and I don’t want to give you more stress.’
Maureen sat up on the bed and plumped up her pillows. Ron climbed up next to her. He held her hand and she snuggled up to him.
‘Maureen, I’m glad you’ve brought up the subject of Pamela.’
‘Really? Why?’
‘Well, I’ve been thinking about her. How old is she?’
‘I don’t know exactly, late-fifties I would think, she’s been with Welch Properties for many years.’
‘Don’t you think it’s time she retired?’
‘I don’t know, she’s never talked about it.’
‘Have you ever suggested it?’
‘Well, I can’t really, it’s her decision.’
‘I think you could do with someone younger helping with the business. Pamela’s probably a bit set in her ways.’
‘That’s a bit harsh. She’s quite efficient usually but she has made some mistakes recently.’
‘We can’t afford mistakes, it causes problems. Look at Christian, he’s needed guidance from me. Now he’s much more efficient.’
Maureen was puzzled.
‘So you are suggesting we take on someone to help Pamela, share the workload?’
‘Not exactly,’ replied Ron. ‘Not share, take over the workload.’
‘What? Give her the sack? Oh, no I don’t think so.’
‘Not sack her, make her redundant. She could have the statutory redundancy pay. It could be as much as ten grand, a nice little bonus for her.’
‘But then we would have to find someone else. We’d have all the hassle of advertising and interviewing for people.’
‘We couldn’t really do that as it would contravene employment law unless we changed the job description. No, it’s better that we tell her we are cost saving and streamlining the business.’
‘But who is going to do all the admin? Me?’ said Maureen.
‘Not you, silly, Laura.’
‘Laura? But isn’t she busy with your work?’
‘She’ll be fine and she’s so much more up to date with technology. She could redesign the website and we cou
ld use social media a lot more. It makes sense.’
‘Well, I suppose Pamela is a bit old school, so to speak.’
‘It makes business sense, trust me,’ said Ron.
‘I’m just not looking forward to telling Pamela, that’s all. Those conversations aren’t pleasant.’
‘I don’t mind. I’ll sweet talk her. Don’t worry.’
‘Let me think about it. I don’t want to rush into it.’
‘Of course. Now, shall I make us some tea?’
‘I’ll do it. Let’s go downstairs. Sit outside, it’s a lovely afternoon.’
They clambered off the bed and Ron smiled to himself. Things were beginning to take shape. Everything was finally coming together.
Chapter 26
On Monday morning, Ron was driving them both in the Range Rover to Sandhills hospital for an appointment with Dr Young. As their appointment was at 9.40 a.m., they had been caught by the end of the rush hour. The journey was taking longer than before and Ron was getting increasingly agitated.
‘God, I’m so lucky to be able to work from home most days,’ he muttered as they were stopped at some lights. ‘I could have gone through then if that stupid woman in front had put her foot down.’
‘Yes, she would have been stupid if she’d been hit by a car coming through the junction,’ said Maureen. ‘We’ve plenty of time, there’s no need to be so impatient.’
‘Sorry, it’s just frustrating. I hate wasting time.’
Just then a call came through. Ron answered it on hands-free.
‘Morning, Brett. I’m driving so if it cuts out don’t worry.’
‘Oh, OK, I’ll be brief. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve emailed you some details about the equity in PersCure. There is some more available as one of the investors wants to sell his stake.’
‘Ron, be careful!’ shouted Maureen as Ron nearly clipped the opening door of a parked car. He suddenly pulled the car over and Maureen grabbed the handle on the door.
‘Everything OK?’ asked Brett.
‘Sorry, a stupid idiot just pulled out on me, You wouldn’t believe the standard of driving nowadays.’
‘Anyway, it’s all in the email but I wanted to let you know to look out for it and get back to me if there’s anything you need to discuss.’
‘OK, thanks, I will. Shit! Move it, you wanker!’ shouted Ron.
Maureen wondered whether they were going to end up in A&E rather than Sandhills hospital. Despite not being particularly comfortable driving the large car she would insist on driving them back home. Ron was far too distracted to drive safely.
**
Jake Marsfield had the usual team meeting to start the week followed by a couple of meetings with high net worth clients. His mind simply wasn’t on his work today. He was hoping to hear about the sale of his stake in PersCure. Unlike the sale of shares on the stockmarket where you could deal at a specified price and then receive the money a few days later, after the settlement period, this was an entirely different matter. If the existing investors weren’t interested, it might take a while to sell his stake. On the advice of his solicitor, he sold some other shares which would net him around fifty thousand pounds. The tax people had agreed to accept this as a deposit allowing him a few weeks to raise the rest of the money to pay the fine.
He’d chatted with Theo Henchard over the weekend about financial matters and though they were both disappointed that they had been caught, they were also relieved that only part of their total offshore investments had come to light. Theo was now in the process of muddying the trail in order to bury the remaining money.
Of course, his seniors at BondFin had been informed of his misdemeanours and he’d suffered what could only be described as an embarrassing bollocking from the CEO. Had his track record to date not been exemplary, then he would have certainly been out on his ear. The fact that he had recently been going through an acrimonious divorce had helped slightly and fortune had shone on him when his father had suffered a heart attack. The board had been lenient in this instance as he pleaded emotional distraction. Luckily, they hadn’t been able to check with his immediate family members who would have revealed that he hadn’t recently been near his estranged father nor had shown the slightest concern for his well-being.
His mind drifted back to the team meeting as he noticed the room had fallen silent.
‘Jake? Do you think we should increase our percentage in emerging markets or hold our position as the markets appear to be peaking?’
‘Oh, yes, that’s fine,’ he replied to Marcus one of his protégés.
‘Er, sorry, which?’
‘Which what?’
‘Which do you think is best under current market conditions?’
Jake realised he’d been in another world. He needed to end this meeting before he made a complete fool of himself.
‘The first option, he said, hoping that this wouldn’t prove to be disastrous.
‘OK, cool,’ said Marcus. ‘That’s what I was thinking.’
**
To Maureen’s relief, they arrived at the hospital without further incident. She opened the car door but Ron sat behind the wheel trying to access his emails on his phone.
‘Shall we go in?’ asked Maureen.
‘I’m trying to see this email which Brett sent.’
‘Your appointment is in five minutes, we should go.’
‘Ha, I bet we’ll be kept waiting like the last time.’
‘Ron, let’s go, please, you can check that email in reception.’
Ron climbed slowly out of the car still looking at his mobile.
‘Watch out!’ shouted Maureen as they walked up towards the entrance and Ron almost collided with a bollard. He was still reading his email.
Maureen gave Ron’s name to the receptionist as he was still engrossed and took a seat whilst Ron stood by the door, presumably to get better reception.
After only a couple of minutes, a nurse appeared from within and called out his name. Maureen got up and smiled at the nurse. ‘Ron!’ she called, ‘they are ready for you.’
Ron wandered over slowly, tapping at some areas of the screen. Maureen was so embarrassed. It was like accompanying a truculent teenager who was addicted to social media.
‘Mr Radford,’ said Dr Young, ‘Please take a seat. Good morning,’ she said to Maureen.
Ron sat down and appeared to be gazing past the doctor, his eyes fixed on a point in the distance through the window behind her.
‘How have you been feeling?’ she asked.
‘Er, oh, fine,’ he replied, non-committally.
‘Really? So no chest pains, no use of your angina spray?’
‘Occasionally,’ he replied.
Maureen knew this to be a blatant lie. She couldn’t remember a day when he’d not used it. She was thinking of intervening when the doctor opened his file and began to report on the recent CT angiogram.
‘Well, that is most surprising, in view of the results from your angiogram. We found a couple of arteries which are severely narrowed and that is certainly the cause of your chest pain. The blood is having trouble getting to the heart to supply it when there is increased demand. Also, I’m afraid to report it looks like the heart muscles aren’t working as efficiently as they could, in particular, the left ventricle is showing weakness.’
‘So, can you give me some pills?’ asked Ron. ‘I might as well have some more then I won’t need food, I can just take pills.’
‘I’m afraid that pills won’t be the answer on their own. You will need a surgical procedure.’
‘Rubbish. I’ve not time for that,’ said Ron. ‘It will have to wait.’
‘I strongly advise you to have this procedure as soon as we can fit you in. In the next couple of weeks, if possible.’
‘I’m getting married very soon, it will have to wait. Anyway, what does it involve?’
‘We will clear the furring of the arteries and we may need to insert a stent to keep the artery o
pen. It will be a special sort which slowly releases drugs to help the functioning of the heart.’
‘Well, I think we should wait a bit and see how I get on.’
‘Ron, you must do as the doctor advises. It sounds serious,’ interjected Maureen.
He exhaled and remained silent. Waving his hand at Maureen as if batting away her comments like an annoying fly.
‘I’d like to examine you before you go,’ said Dr Young. ‘Please lie down on the examination couch.’
Just at that moment, Ron’s mobile rang. To Maureen’s horror, he took it out and actually answered it. ‘Phone you in ten minutes,’ he said gruffly and then stuffed the phone back in his pocket.
‘Undo your shirt please,’ he was instructed.
The doctor listened carefully with her stethoscope. She then asked him to sit up and tapped his back and listened carefully again. She took his blood pressure.
‘Please lie back again,’ she said. ‘I’m just going to feel your ankles.’
Maureen looked on with concern. She was no medical expert but the news hadn’t been good. The most worrying thing was that Ron refused to take matters seriously. She could tell from the expression on his face that he was in another world, totally consumed by the email from Brett Chandler and planning his next investment in PersCure.
‘Your ankles look slightly swollen. Have you noticed this before?’
‘What? No, I don’t think so. It’s a hot day, that’s probably the reason,’ said Ron.
‘It could also be a sign that your heart isn’t working efficiently. I’m going to prescribe some diuretic tablets.’
‘See I told you I’d be taking more pills,’ said Ron to Maureen. ‘I’m a walking pharmacy.’
‘It’s for your own good,’ said Maureen without meeting his gaze.
‘It’s a pity PersCure doesn’t make all my pills, I’d be helping their profits out,’ laughed Ron.
Dr Young was back at her desk making some notes and writing a prescription.
She handed it over and looked straight at Ron. ‘We will learn more when we insert the stent but I feel you should be prepared to have further surgery. A bypass operation may well be needed.’
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