First to Die

by Alex Caan

  ‘I also have details of the bereavement group. I’ll feed the details into your database, Michelle,’ said Zain. ‘We need to start building a complex file that traces through multiple identities. If someone has orchestrated this whole thing, you can bet they’ve gone to the effort of changing their personal details.’

  ‘We’d better check who’s faking it as well,’ said Stevie. ‘The bereavement group members, I mean. Finding out who doesn’t exist will help us work out who’s lying.’

  ‘Good point,’ said Zain.

  ‘Where are the five families that AREL rejected?’ Kate said. ‘Any of them in London?’

  Michelle clicked and brought up the list onscreen.

  ‘At the time of treatment none of them were. Since the rejection, two families have moved here. I have to warn you, all five cases didn’t end well. The rejected patients all died.’

  There was silence in the room. That was the reality of this whole thing, the links they had found. Death was the beginning and the end for all those involved in this whole mess.

  Kate just hoped there wouldn’t be more death before the day was done.

  ‘I’ll get local forces to contact the families outside of London. Stevie, can you contact the two in London?’ Kate asked Michelle to send the details of both families to her. ‘Who else was involved? In the five cases we know Leanne worked on with Julian and Freya? Was anyone else making the decisions?’

  Michelle scanned through file notes, checking minutes and sign-offs. ‘Three of the cases were signed off by a Dr David Milne, and two by a Dr Sue Knight.’

  ‘Get me contact details for them as quickly as you can please, Michelle. I need to speak to both doctors. Can you also coordinate the national contacts for the rejected families?’

  Kate just hoped the doctors were still alive.

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  Stevie read through the notes again, before getting out of her car. She was in Stepney Green, East London, close to her own place. The flat she was looking at was in the middle floor of a converted terrace, with trees lining the street, surrounding a small park. You could see Canary Wharf in the background, as though you might be able to touch it.

  Stevie had spoken to Esther Lake earlier, and told her she would be coming to visit. When Stevie explained why, Lake had been hesitant. She said AREL was history, a past she didn’t want to rake up, but Stevie had told her that they just needed details on the company and those involved in the funding requests that they had received. She didn’t mention Julian or Freya or Leanne, and insinuated that it was some type of fraud investigation.

  Esther was in her late twenties, attractive, in shape. Yet she was dressed as though she couldn’t be bothered, in a loose grey sweater that covered her knees, and black joggers. She showed Stevie into an impeccable lounge, with nothing out of place. There was an almost OCD level of cleanliness. Stevie had a similar level of fastidiousness in her own home. Esther’s eyes were moving across surfaces and spaces; she was skittish, looking for something. Stevie declined the tea that was offered.

  ‘I know this is going to be painful,’ she began. ‘And I’m sorry, I really am. I am going to ask you to go over what happened with AREL. And please, take your time, and tell me as much as you are comfortable with.’

  Esther looked as though she hadn’t heard, her eyes looking behind Stevie, then around the room, and then finally focusing on Stevie.

  ‘I’m not comfortable with any of this.’ Esther, sat back on the sofa, pulling her legs under her and holding one of the cushions close. She rested her chin on it, looking heartbreakingly vulnerable for a moment. Then the wandering eyes were back. ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘Can you tell me about your son? What made you approach AREL in the first place?’

  Esther froze, her eyes staring straight ahead. Her lips didn’t move. Stevie decided to ask about the husband instead, ease Esther into talking about her son.

  ‘How did you meet your husband? Nathan?’

  ‘We met at university. I went to Newcastle to study biochemistry.’

  Stevie let that sink in, and felt her instincts rise. That would give Esther enough scientific background to understand the TTX stuff. Stevie barely understood it, just accepted what DCI Riley and Dr Kapoor had been saying.

  ‘Was he on your course?’

  ‘No he was a builder. I met him at a student bar; one of his friends was on our course. We were very different: he was working-class, I was a privileged Home Counties girl.’

  ‘Opposites attract.’

  ‘Yes, I know. Maybe it was his accent, maybe it was him. He was one of the most moral people I ever met. I felt so safe around him. As though nothing could harm me when I was in his arms. Isn’t that funny? When you think about what happened?’

  Stevie nodded. Esther stared into the space between them, her memories anchoring her to the past, and stopping her from feeling anxious about the situation they were in.

  ‘We married straight after graduation, and then started planning a family.’

  ‘That was a bit sudden.’

  ‘Nathan was so keen. He wanted more than anything to be married and to have a family. He had his own reasons, I guess. And he was earning a good wage by then, more than I would get as a graduate starting out. And so we started trying.’

  ‘How long before you fell pregnant?’

  ‘Eighteen months. And we were really trying. But it happened, and since then I’ve met so many women who take years to conceive. Some who I think would make amazing mothers, but never do. Life just really knows how to punch you in the gut sometimes, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose it does.’ Life had certainly given Stevie a good old kicking, but she had learned how to punch back. ‘And the pregnancy? Were there any problems?’

  ‘No. I know friends who have had horrendous first pregnancies, who are literally laid up in bed, chronically ill. Mine was fine. I had some morning sickness, but that didn’t last long. Nothing else. Everything was fine, the baby was growing . . .’ Esther stopped, clutching the cushion tighter to her torso. Her breathing became irregular. ‘He was fine. His heart was strong, and I watched him at each scan, watched him become who he was. I always knew I wanted to call him Robert, after my father. It was incredible, and Nathan was just as excited. He was an only child, and wanted a huge family.’

  ‘Do you have siblings?’

  ‘Yes. I’m one of three.’

  ‘So there were no signs at all that anything was wrong?’

  ‘No, nothing. He was perfect. And when he was born, again it was so easy. My waters broke at home, and he was almost breaching by the time we got to the hospital. And then he was there, and it was so . . .’ Esther’s eyes hardened, her jaw set. Anger was in her voice. ‘It was meant to be my happy ending. Life was going to be perfect, because I had him.’

  ‘When did you realise something was wrong?’ Stevie was trying to read Esther. The woman had done every emotional cartwheel possible. Almost as though she was acting each one.

  ‘It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t a sudden realisation.’ There was the same hardness to Esther’s voice. ‘He was perfect, growing up, healthy. None of the staff were concerned about anything. I’ve met people that have kids with hearing or sight issues. And they don’t know, but they see things, small signs. And they ignore them, hoping they don’t mean anything. And then there comes a point when they can no longer do that, and they take the child in for tests.’

  ‘Is that what happened with Robert?’

  ‘No. I was a good mother. I used to worry about every little illness, made sure my baby got properly checked out. He got jaundice once and his temperature was so high, I was a wreck, screaming at the doctors and nurses. I grabbed one of the doctors at one point, he was about to stick a needle into Robert. They called security, and Nathan had to control me. I spent so much time worrying about all the small things. And something so much worse was just waiting to happen.’

  Stevie, didn’
t know how to ask what that was. But she had to.

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  Both doctors were proving difficult to track down. Sue Knight had gone to Africa to work with Médecins Sans Frontières after her time with AREL. She had been working in the Congo, in the forgotten war, helping rescue child soldiers and their victims. After that she had transferred to Australia. Finding her current location was proving to be difficult.

  ‘She must register with the General Medical Council, or she loses her right to practise here. I’ve had a look at their website and she is a current member. I can try to speak to one of my contacts there, get you some details?’

  Dr Kapoor was proving much more helpful than any pathologist Kate had previously worked with.

  ‘What about Dr Milne?’ she asked Michelle.

  ‘He’s a consultant working at King’s College Hospital. I’ve asked his office to get him to call me, but they said he’s on leave.’

  ‘Leave where?’

  ‘They said he’s got a place in the Lake District, up north somewhere. They won’t give me any of his contact details, so I guess we wait?’

  Waiting felt like the wrong option. But until they could verify which of the doctors were missing, there was no way to narrow down the cases they were investigating. The local police forces Michelle had contacted had reported similar stories. Devastated people left behind after a rare illness. They could all have the motive to do this. Kate didn’t want to waste resources tracking where everyone was, not until she had confirmed the doctors were still alive. Then they could start looking at signal bounce-back from mobile phone masts, and check CCTV.

  They still hadn’t managed to work out Julian Leakey’s last movements. He wasn’t seen anywhere in Earl’s Court or St James’s Park, not prior to wearing the Anonymous outfit. After that he would have blended in with the crowds. Freya Rice was also invisible. CCTV was still being checked, but so far they hadn’t managed to trace her.

  It was frustrating, and Kate just couldn’t work out how Natalie Davies fit into all of this. Kate had a theory that would link Julian, Freya and even Mark Lynch. But Natalie? What was her role? And where exactly were the missing Leanne Birch, and the two doctors?

  She checked her phone. Stevie was in Stepney Green with the mother of one of the people who AREL had refused to treat. Rob was on his way to check in on a second family.

  Kate thought about the threads she was following. Lots of people lost their loved ones, they didn’t then seek revenge in such elaborate ways. The person behind this must have been pushed over an edge they were already leaning over. Existing problems accentuated and exacerbated by some new trauma.

  Her phone rang. It was Dr Kapoor.

  ‘What have you got for me?’

  ‘Dr Sue Knight’s details. I hope you’re sitting down.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘She was found dead two days ago.’

  Kate rolled her chair over, and sat down heavily.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘She was in London, came back for a birthday trip. She had been planning it for a while apparently, just her and her husband.’

  ‘I don’t understand, why didn’t she show up in any of our searches?’

  ‘Because she changed her name. She’s now Dr Sue Lewis, married in Australia to a fellow medic she met in the Democratic Republic of Congo.’

  ‘How did she die?’

  ‘Her body was found in her hotel room, drowned in the bath.’

  ‘Where was she staying?’

  ‘The Ritz.’

  ‘That’s a bit plush.’

  ‘It was a special birthday. Her fiftieth.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Kate asked Michelle to check the Met’s database and bring up Dr Sue Lewis’s details. The report suspected a suicide attempt. A tox report had been ordered, which would give a clearer picture.

  ‘Her husband said she had been diagnosed with terminal cancer last year. It’s why the trip meant so much,’ said Michelle. ‘It wasn’t just for her birthday; I think it was her last goodbye to a city she had spent so much time in.’

  ‘They still haven’t processed the toxicology,’ Kate said. She forgot how things worked in the real world sometimes. Budgets, priorities, lack of resources. Things took time, and in a suspected suicide, they wouldn’t rush the results. ‘Get those samples sent to Dr Kapoor. I want them analysed quickly. And I want a positive ID on Dr Milne. Get the local force to check his Lake District retreat as a matter of urgency.’

  Kate looked through the notes and could see the lead officer had barely done an investigation. There was no CCTV check, and only a couple of staff had been questioned. The husband was in Selfridges buying his wife a special birthday present at the time. They had presumed suicide because of her terminal diagnosis and speaking to her husband, and then everything had pretty much stalled. The killer move for any cop to do: make your assumptions and then make the evidence fit.

  Kate made some assumptions of her own. Dr Lewis had been murdered. Once Michelle confirmed that Dr Milne was very much alive and well and on holiday, it meant there were now two families they could focus on. Families that were broken, full of pain. And anger. Stevie was already with one. Kate messaged Rob and sent him to Rochester where the second family were.

  *

  Esther brought drinks. A glass of water for Stevie, and a tea for herself.

  ‘I hate to ask about the details, but are you OK to elaborate?’ said Stevie.

  There was a sound from somewhere in the flat. Esther’s eyes darted around the room, then looked at Stevie, then down into her cup. She drank her tea, her lips curled as the hot liquid burnt them, but her eyes remained steady. She put her cup down, and pulled her cushion close again.

  ‘You said it was sudden?’ prompted Stevie.

  Esther looked confused, as though unsure of whom Stevie was speaking to.

  ‘Yes,’ she said eventually. ‘He was absolutely fine, and then one day he started to choke. I thought maybe he had swallowed something, and tried to get it out. But there was nothing and he was crying and really struggling to breathe . . . it was horrible, coming out in long drawn out gasps. I didn’t know what to do, I was panicking, calling 999, trying to get him to tell me what was wrong, trying to help him. The ambulance took twenty minutes to arrive, and I don’t think I’ve ever experienced anything like that. I felt every second, every bit of pain my baby was in. I can still hear him . . .’ The hardness was back in her voice. ‘I just wanted him to be OK. And he wasn’t. I kept screaming at him. And I . . . I was so confused, so scared. I slapped him. I still feel the sting in my hands sometimes. I wanted him to stop. And I lashed out.’

  Stevie let the silence fall between them. Somewhere a boiler started, and she could hear water running through the central heating, making a gentle tapping noise.

  ‘What happened then?’

  ‘The ambulance arrived, and they put a mask on him, but he wouldn’t stop choking and breathing in gulps. They took him to hospital, where the doctors didn’t have a clue either. They thought something was stuck, and kept trying to clear his airways. Nothing was there, and then they took control away from him, had him on a respirator so he didn’t have to struggle. And finally he was still, his breathing sounded like some Victorian mechanical device. It was painful to hear. And they still didn’t know why it was happening to him.’

  ‘How did they treat him then?’

  ‘They transferred him to the Children’s Hospital in Liverpool. Alder Hey. Kept him under constant observation. Ran every test they could. They took so much blood from him. And gave me nothing. They had no answers for me. I wasn’t an idiot. I could speak their language, I knew enough. They used to roll their eyes, and make quick exits when they saw me. They weren’t used to someone who could get past their medical bullshit.’

  ‘How did he get diagnosed?’

  ‘He started showing other symptoms over the next few weeks. A consultant there said it might be a rare gen
etic condition he’d come across before. They tested Robert, and he came back positive. It was Findlay’s Syndrome Disorder. Robert’s body was failing to carry oxygen in his blood the way it should. It lies dormant in people, sometimes for decades, usually never becomes an issue. Robert though, he was one of the unlucky ones. His body started to shut down. And there was nothing they could do.’

  ‘They told you that?’

  ‘Yes. They had no cure, and there were no medicines to manage it. So I sat in the hospital room. Waiting for my child to die.’

  Stevie had no response.

  ‘And then AREL happened. My consultant told me he’d heard about a drug that might work for FSD, that it might help repair the mechanism in Robert that was failing. The drug was still in testing stage, but AREL were running trials. And so we made an application. And I thought why wouldn’t they? Robert was going to have a future, they were going to save him. I believed he was going to be OK. Before that, I had given him up. I had already planned his funeral, and then all of a sudden, there it was. The possibility that he would live.’

  ‘Only it didn’t work out like that?’

  ‘No, it didn’t. The drug was expensive. A year’s treatment cost half a million pounds. That’s what they said. Robert was only the second baby they knew of that had shown symptoms of FSD. Most people didn’t get it until they were much older. So to them, testing how their drug worked on a baby just didn’t make sense. And where was I going to get half a million pounds from? And so these faceless bastards in some room somewhere made the decision that my baby wasn’t worth saving. And they let him die.’

  They let him die. There was blame there. All of it understandable. Stevie stared at the broken woman before her. She had lost the thing most precious to her and with him her life too. The question was, was she capable of exacting a cold and total revenge? Was Robert, the innocent baby, actually the first to die?

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  Michelle watched one of her screens as though her eyes were unable to make sense of what she was seeing. She rubbed her eyelids, and pressed her temples, then stared again. She sighed, sipped at her green tea, started to flick her teeth with her fingernail.