Early evening arrived and thirst and hunger overcame his nausea, the natural survival instinct kicking in. He dragged himself from his bed and opened a window to clear the stale air. Throwing off his pyjamas he stepped into the shower and for the first time in about three days felt physically clean. He also shaved off three days of stubble reviving his appearance somewhat although he still looked pale and drawn. His face looked thinner and as he dressed in some clean chinos he felt his waistband was less tight. Selecting a clean shirt he realised he should do some washing and collected up his things and set the machine to wash. His daughter wouldn’t want to see him let himself go, nor the house which his wife had always kept in pristine order. He emptied the kitchen bin and took out the empty bottles for recycling. Collecting up glasses and cups and the odd plate almost filled the dishwasher so he would run that this evening as well. He decided to have a quick hoover round to make the place look cared for, otherwise, he would have to endure his daughter nagging him about getting a cleaner. Not much need for that though he thought, there’s no way I’ll be going back to work, I’ll be spending all my time cleaning. But no he wouldn’t, he could well be going to gaol. How would he cope with that, he couldn’t bear the thought of incarceration, it would break him.
He made himself a cheese sandwich and a cup of tea. He had to have at least one meal which didn’t consist of alcohol. His stomach felt completely full after this meagre offering as it had got out of the habit of eating, there was no point trying to force anything else down, perhaps he’d try a snack before bed. He picked up his tablet and saw that hundreds of emails were waiting for him most of them junk, he went down the list deleting them. He spotted one from his colleague Pete, he’d completely forgotten about him. He scanned it quickly, his little boy had been stabilised on insulin and was now out of hospital. They were finding it hard but were glad to be home and he would attempt to get to work on Monday. Bob hadn’t the guts to reply, doubtless he’d not heard about Bob’s accident, he would let Piers inform him that he would have to take over Bob’s work for the foreseeable future.
He pulled up the news websites but couldn’t find anything to hold his attention on the national news so looked at the local news. Facing him was the headline story about an accident involving a woman and child going to school on Friday morning. There was a breaking news update. The child had died in hospital that morning. Bob stared at the story unable to comprehend what was before him. He read it again, there was no mistake. The husband had issued a statement thanking the hospital staff for their efforts and care and asking for privacy at that time. His wife was still in hospital though had been moved from intensive care, she was still sedated and as yet unaware of the death of her son. Bob felt the bile and his sandwich rising up his gullet, he rushed from the room just managing to make it to the downstairs toilet where he retched until he was empty. He slumped to the floor, putting his forehead on edge of the toilet pan. He would now be charged with manslaughter, not just dangerous driving. His life was over, he was certain that gaol would await him. Dragging himself to his feet he staggered back to the lounge.
Chapter 54
Giles’ interview at the FCA offices was on Monday morning. He awoke before his alarm having spent a restless night sleeping for no more than half an hour at a stretch. It was a relief to finally be up and dressed, freed from his churning mind which had focussed on the very gravest of outcomes during the lowest point of the night. His solicitor Jeremy or Jez as he preferred to be called had been an old school friend of his and he was confident they could rebuff the accusations. He’d been practising his story that Brett Chandler had intentionally met up with him at the alumni dinner and persuaded him to buy shares on his behalf and to set up the offshore accounts in which to hide the money which was to be released at a future date. Giles had been reluctant to engage in such a venture but he was merely a pawn for the very persuasive Brett who had rewarded him by buying him a new phone and television. Giles was maintaining that Brett had tried to frame him by deliberately requesting redirection of his mail to Giles’ address having ascertained the address from his stay there on the night of the dinner.
He made himself an espresso coffee with his pod machine and checked his appearance in the mirror. He was wearing his smartest suit, a white shirt and sober tie. His shoes were freshly polished and he looked the picture of respectability. It was his word against Brett’s, he clung to the fact that prosecutions for insider trading were few and far between. It was definitely a grey area. These two sentences he’d been repeating like a mantra, positive affirmations he thought of them. If repeated them often enough they would become the truth, he had to cling to his version of the facts. If someone heard something in a bar, for example, in a university town they could act on that information but was that really insider dealing, it was difficult to say. He had to remain cool and keep control of his body language. He’d been sloppy during the first visit of the FCA, that was because they caught him on the hop, there would be no repeat performance of appearing as the rattled accused. Even though it was only just 7.30 a.m. he left his flat and headed for the underground. He was due to have a pre-meeting with Jez in a coffee shop near the FCA offices, he hoped Jez would be impressed by his preparation. This was merely a formality, the FCA would be sent back to their offices to resume their investigations into Brett Chandler, wouldn’t they?
**
Nick was similarly early into work. Having gone to sleep quite quickly following their cinema trip he’d awoken two hours later assuming it must be morning. He’d felt like he’d been asleep for ages. His heart sank when he saw it was not yet midnight and had finally adjourned to the lounge to watch some mindless programme about house renovation before he must have dropped off. Polly woke him at 6.30 a.m. and he found he had a stiff neck after falling asleep awkwardly with only a small cushion for his head. He directed the hot flow of the shower against his neck to try to relieve the pain and once dressed he felt more able to face the day. He kept telling himself that in about eight hours the most hazardous phase of the reaction would be completed allowing it to be left overnight. Tomorrow’s work would be tricky but not as dangerous, the worst part would soon be over. Polly was now happy to walk to work unaccompanied so Nick left whilst she was still eating her cereal. He couldn’t resist the temptation to check around the car but all seemed to be well so he set off ahead of the rush hour traffic and was in the car park by a quarter to eight.
There was no sign of Kirsty’s car but that wasn’t a problem, as long as she was in by 9 a.m. and she always had been, they would have enough time to get the reaction completed by 4 p.m. Mark the security guard was still manning the desk and although their drinks on Wednesday evening had ended somewhat acrimoniously they had been texting regularly since then and had made good their differences. As soon as he’d found out about Ez Milburn he’d informed Mark and actually thanked him for preventing him from doing anything reckless. He was still sure that Kevin was on the make but at least he’d not been targeting himself and Polly. He’d begun to realise that he couldn’t fight all the company’s battles for them and it was up to BioQex to monitor what was being stolen. He’d reported his suspicions and there was no more he could do, they needed to obtain their own evidence. He had enough to worry about.
As he was chatting with Mark, Brett arrived and they exchanged pleasantries.
‘Oh, Nick,’ said Brett, ‘could you stop by my office before you get stuck into your work, there’s something I need to tell you?’
‘Sure, no problem, five minutes?’
‘Great, see you then,’ and Brett was gone, running up the stairs.
Nick and Mark exchanged glances. Nick was sure he’d not done anything wrong but it was always disconcerting to be called in to see the senior team. After all, Kevin had accused him of assault, he just hoped that incident wasn’t going to raise its ugly head again.
‘Text me with what happens,’ whispered Mark, ‘you best be on your way.’
‘
Later, dude,’ joked Nick and he headed off up to his desk to drop off his bag and jacket before going to speak to Brett.
**
Laura had made good time despite traffic starting to build as she approached the outskirts of Persford. She was hoping to have time for some coffee and a piece of toast before they left for the court. She’d been unable to face breakfast before her early start, just drinking some water. Turning into the road where her father’s house lay she admired the spacious and well-kept houses. It was a lovely area but this sparked feelings of sadness as she knew that her father would doubtless have to leave it behind for several years.
She turned into the driveway and had to remind herself why her father’s car wasn’t parked there. The mind expected to see what was familiar to it. She’d brought a few provisions in case her father hadn’t been shopping and she unloaded a couple of bags from the boot. Although she had a key she felt it courteous to ring the bell. There was no answer so she pressed the bell again, leaning in towards the door to check she could hear the chime. The bell was working perfectly but no vision of her father appeared. She tried once more but she reasoned that if he was upstairs in the shower he might not hear so eventually she let herself in, shouting loudly that she had arrived. Laura was pleased to see that the house looked quite tidy. She hadn’t been here since her mother’s funeral and had been worried about how her father would cope as he was used to working and allowing her mother to be in charge of the house. The garden still looked lovely although there were a few plants starting to look like they needed deadheading. She unloaded the bags of food and went to the bottom of the stairs and shouted again. Silence greeted here. He must be asleep. She checked her watch, it was after 8 a.m. and he needed to be up, she hated being in a rush. Running lightly up the stairs she approached her father’s room and knocked on the door, ‘Wake up Dad,’ she shouted, ‘it’s after eight!’.
She listened but could hear nothing so tentatively pushed open the door. She could see her father’s figure in the bed, turned on his side towards the window. The air in the room was foetid, quite oppressive so she drew the curtains and opened the window to allow the freshness of the morning to enter the bedroom. As she approached the bed a creeping unease started to build, something wasn’t right. Her father had never been a heavy sleeper, whenever she’d crept in late as a teenager he’d always awoken and noted her later than agreed return. Fear began to mount as she looked at the bedside table. With a shaking hand, she lifted the duvet and touched her father’s shoulder. He rolled on to his back and Laura started to scream. After thirty seconds her screaming stopped as her legs buckled and she crumpled to the floor. The room was silent, birdsong filtering in through the open window.
Chapter 55
Nick knocked tentatively on Brett’s door and was welcomed inside.
‘Coffee?’ asked Brett.
‘Oh, er well, thanks, no sugar,’ added Nick.
‘Take a seat, I’ll bring it over,’ and Nick sat as the machine whirred and hissed as it produced a luxuriously smelling cup of coffee. Brett added another capsule and waited for his to drip through then came to sit down.
‘Nick, I just wanted to update you on what happened late afternoon on Friday, as regards Kevin.’
Nick’s heart started to race at this point, the strong coffee increasing the jitters spreading through his body. Worried about spilling his drink he carefully put his cup down on the desk and waited for Brett to continue speaking.
‘I just wanted to let you know that today will be Kevin’s last day, although we will be paying him until the end of the week,’ he paused to sip his coffee, then continued, ‘your suspicions were correct and Kevin was indulging in a little sideline of his own. You might find the stores are better stocked from now on,’ Brett smiled.
‘Oh, well that’s great, well not great, but at least he won’t be allowed to continue to cream off the company,’ said a relieved Nick, finding it difficult at first to take in the good news.
‘Quite,’ agreed Brett. ‘We had some firm evidence from that chap who was working with him, Shane. He’d managed to get a few photos showing Kevin putting company goods in the boot of his car. Very decently he reported it to us on Friday afternoon and well, there wasn’t much denying it.’
‘So will Kevin be charged, I mean do the police know?’
‘We have reached an agreement with Kevin, we feel it is not in the company interests to pursue a criminal case against him, we need to focus on other things.’
‘I see,’ said Nick, finding it hard to agree that this was the best course, deep down he felt Kevin had got off lightly.
‘I realise you might think we’ve been a bit soft but we don’t want any more bad publicity. It’s been a rather difficult week you see. I’m afraid I can’t say anything further at the moment but it’s only a matter of time before the information becomes public and I’m sure when that happens you will understand why we don’t want to hound Kevin.’
‘I see, well you’re the boss, I’m just glad he’s been found out,’ said Nick finishing his drink.
‘Yes, by the end of the day he will have left. We’ve got a replacement coming over this morning, he might be temporary, we’ll just have to see, but we will sort something out.’ Nick nodded his understanding. ‘I’d appreciate your discretion in this matter, as I say there is a lot happening at the moment,’ said Brett standing to indicate that this was the end of their conversation.
‘Of course,’ said Nick, mirroring Brett and heading to the door.
‘Thanks for stopping by, hope your chemistry is going well?’
‘Yes, well it’s the scale-up of the intermediate for 896 today, so I’ve got a busy few hours ahead,’ said Nick.
‘Oh yes, well thanks for taking on that role, you’re the best man for it in my opinion, good luck with it,’ and the meeting drew to a close.
Nick went back to his desk smiling. He still wasn’t looking forward to the day ahead but he did at least feel that there was some justice in the world. After all, Kevin had been the master of his own destiny. He would have a long time to reflect on his behaviour after today.
**
Giles Wentworth accompanied by his solicitor Jez Newbury was ushered into a meeting room where Alex Goodwood and Olivia Frensman were waiting. After shaking hands and introducing themselves they took their seats in pairs across an interview table.
‘Thank you for attending this interview today,’ said Alex, ‘my colleague will take notes and you will be sent a copy of the transcript.’
Giles and Jez nodded their understanding. They both looked relaxed and confident.
‘We are going to show you some documents Mr Wentworth, some of which we showed to you before, we would like you to explain how and why you began trading BioQex shares.’
‘That’s quite simple,’ began Giles, my old university friend Brett Chandler sought me out and as he was privy to information not yet in the public domain realised that there was an opportunity to be seized by purchasing shares before the price increased on the back of a positive announcement on a prototype drug.’
‘I see, and how long have you known Dr Chandler,’ asked Alex.
‘Oh, since university,’ Giles replied.
‘And yet since then, there has been no contact between the two of you, no emails, no texts, no communication through Facebook. In fact, Dr Chandler says that he only met you at the dinner in London and that you sought him out, not the other way round.’
‘Different point of view, he looked me up and asked me to open an account.’
‘I see,’ said Alex realising that Giles had been practising his story.
‘How do you explain that two high-value items were bought on Dr Chandler’s credit card a few days after he stayed at your flat?’
‘They were a sort of commission for the work I was about to undertake.’
‘But surely Dr Chandler would have ordered those items for you and added your name to the delivery address if he’d been buying
them for you?’
Giles shrugged.
‘Instead, we have found that the items were ordered on a device with an ISP registered to you and that you didn’t actually sign for the goods, or show any identification when you went to collect them, as you knew the girl in the John Lewis store.’
Giles started to feel rather uneasy at this point, they had certainly been thorough. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on that trollop of a shop assistant who he’d by chance met in a bar one night. It had cost him an expensive meal and a new dress to get her to make sure she was on duty when he went to collect the items. He remained silent.
‘Moving on,’ said Alex, ‘can you explain the account set up here in Dr Chandler’s name and the route the money seems to have taken once you completed the share sale recently.’
‘Again, I was acting under Dr Chandler’s instruction,’ Giles said coolly, his solicitor remaining quiet thus far, but jotting a few points on his legal pad.
‘Dr Chandler alleges that you stole his identity and rifled through his briefcase in order to see the press release he was in the process of preparing, do you have any comment?’
‘Complete fabrication, Dr Chandler has been in the driving seat all along. It’s true I acted upon his instruction but he was the one leaking the information.’
‘I am now going to show you some documents which were sent to us recently. We have granted the sender anonymity as he has been extremely helpful, please take a look at those documents.’
Terminal Reaction Page 24