Heartless Reaction

by Dawn Marsanne

  Ron patted Maureen’s hand and continued to look at the lists on the table. He ran his finger down the lists of names and counted silently.

  ‘Thirty-two so far. Tell the caterers forty maximum but it may be only mid-twenties.’

  ‘OK, what do you think of the menu I suggested?’

  ‘Looks great, salmon is always a safe bet for the main course. Make sure they do some fancy vegetables for accompaniments. Cheesecake and strawberries for dessert is my choice. Starters? I don’t know, you decide.’

  ‘I think something like avocado with Parma ham or melon with other fruits. I’ll think about it,’ said Maureen. We’ve got two vegetarians to sort out as well.’

  ‘We can have drinks and canapés on the terrace here then move into the marquee for the meal,’ continued Ron.

  ‘OK, how long do you think we should leave between the end of the ceremony at the Register Office and pre-lunch drinks here?’

  Ron thought for a few moments. ‘They usually keep to time at the Register office, then it will take everyone about twenty minutes to half an hour to get back here. Say about half an hour for drinks, so let’s plan to eat an hour, no let’s make it an hour and fifteen after the ceremony.’

  Maureen noted that down. ‘What about music? I’ve seen an advert for a local string quartet who...’ but she was distracted from providing further details as she could hear a vibrating noise of a mobile phone. She looked over towards their phones, both of which were on the table before them but neither were ringing. Ron reached into his pocket and retrieved a second phone which by now had started to ring.

  ‘Sorry, darling, I must take this,’ he said, getting up from the table and walking out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

  Maureen sighed. She had hoped to have Ron’s undivided attention for a while today but no doubt some crisis had arisen. To fill the time she looked at some websites for wedding flowers. At that point Ron’s other phone began to ring, she noticed the display showed his accountant’s name. Maureen stopped looking at wedding flowers. Why did Ron have another phone and who was phoning his other number? This was the first time she’d noticed his other mobile. What sort of business was conducted on that phone? She crept over to the door to listen. She could hear Ron swearing and shouting. It wasn’t good for his heart to get so angry. She was troubled with indecision. Should she go out and try to calm him down? But would that result in more fury if she stumbled upon a private conversation?

  She knew the reason why people had two mobiles. So they could conduct business which was illegal or which they needed to keep private from their family or partners. It was probably an unregistered number. Oh, God, she thought as she wandered back to her wedding preparations. What sort of business was Ron involved in? For the first time in a while, Maureen felt unsettled.

  **

  Alfie Crouch was having a bad day. On his way back from work he’d been unable to resist the lure of the Bradfield Arms and now he’d just lost twenty pounds on a fruit machine. That meant he’d only forty pounds left until his next wage which was going to be tough as he’d just had a red demand for his gas bill. His few hours of work washing cars at a local garage paid a pittance so it was a constant struggle to make ends meet. At least he didn’t have to pay rent as he’d inherited his house from his mother when she died. He now had less than two hundred pounds left from her savings. Someone had suggested selling the house and then he could rent somewhere smaller but the whole issue was too confusing for him to understand.

  ‘Pint of lager,’ he said to Len, the barman.

  ‘Coming up, Alfie. How’re things with you?’

  ‘Crap, same as usual,’ replied Alfie.

  ‘Come on, it can’t be that bad, surely?’

  ‘I’m almost skint.’

  ‘Well, you’ve still got your friends in here,’ said Len.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Here, there’s me and George over there? And look, Dylan’s just come in. What can I get you, Dylan?’

  ‘Bottle of lager,’ said Dylan.

  ‘Looks like Alfie needs cheering up, Dylan,’ said Len winking at the young man.

  ‘Alfie, my old mate, cheer up, you look like you’ve had bad news,’ said Dylan putting his arm around Alfie as far as it would go. Dylan looked even more emaciated next to Alfie’s rotund figure.

  ‘What news? I’ve not had any news?’

  ‘No, it’s just something... it doesn’t matter, what’s wrong?’

  ‘I’m short of dosh. You couldn’t lend me some, could you?’

  ‘I would if I could, you know me,’ said Dylan, smiling.

  ‘Right, well, I’ll be off,’ said Alfie, downing the rest of his pint. ‘Can’t afford your prices, Len. I’ll call in at the shop on my way back.’

  ‘Look, stay a bit longer,’ said Dylan, ‘I’ll stand you a pint. Len?’

  ‘Coming up,’ said the barman.

  ‘And throw in a couple of packets of beef crisps whilst you’re at it,’ added Dylan. ‘Alfie looks like he needs feeding up a bit.’ Alfie was oblivious to the teasing but felt pleased he could put off going back to his depressing abode. He just wished he had the money to buy some gear off Dylan, that was something else which would have to wait until his next wage packet.

  Chapter 11

  ‘For fuck’s sake!’ said Ron. ‘I wondered what had happened to you. I tried calling you but you didn’t answer.’

  ‘Yes, well I’ve been a bit under the weather as you could say.’

  ‘You were careless. Where’s my money?’

  ‘Your sympathy is much appreciated.’

  ‘Shut the fuck up!’

  ‘Look I can’t explain now. I need to get out of hospital.’

  ‘And why should I help you?’

  ‘Because I know things. Remember?’

  Ron was fuming. He paced back and forth in his hallway then went outside as he realised he was shouting and he didn’t want Maureen to overhear.

  ‘What do you need? I’ll get Corey to sort something out.’ Ron listened as the caller told him his plan.

  ‘OK, liaise with Corey, not me from now on. Got that?’ Ron didn’t wait for a reply and disconnected his phone. He started to walk down the path towards his office when his chest was gripped with a tight pain. He gasped and leaned against the wall for support trying in vain to breathe slowly. It was another angina attack the result of getting annoyed and agitated.

  ‘Shit, shit,’ he said as he felt in his trouser pocket for his glyceryl trinitrate spray. He didn’t have it with him, he remembered now that he must have left it in the bedroom this morning. ‘Oh, God,’ he muttered to himself. He would now get more fussing from Maureen but he really needed her to go and get it.

  It was a struggle but he made it back to the house, each step seemed to take a huge effort. Opening the front door once more he walked slowly into the hallway. ‘Maureen!’ he called. ‘Maureen, please!’

  She emerged from the dining room where they’d been having their discussion and looked at Ron with alarm.

  ‘Ron? What’s the matter? Oh, God, it’s your heart. Have you used your spray?’

  ‘Upstairs,’ said Ron slowly as he sank down into one of the chairs in the hallway.

  Maureen ran upstairs in a panic to the master bedroom. She couldn’t immediately see the spray next to the bed. As she moved a magazine it fell to the floor behind the bedside table. She reached behind to retrieve it and ran back downstairs quickly, missing her footing on the last couple of steps and landing at Ron’s feet, slightly buckling her ankle.

  Ron grabbed the spray and gave himself two short squirts of medicine under his tongue. He closed his eyes and sat back resting his head against the balustrade of the staircase.

  Maureen felt at his forehead which felt hot and clammy. ‘Oh, Ron, is it starting to work?’

  ‘Yes, it’s loosening up now. I’ll just stay here a minute.’

  ‘Can I get you something? Some tea? Water?’

  ‘Wa
ter, yes, please,’ he replied, still with his eyes closed.

  She rushed to the kitchen and brought back a glass of water which Ron sipped and smiled weakly at Maureen. ‘Sorry about that. I must remember to put my spray in my pocket each morning.’

  ‘I think we should chase the appointment with the specialist,’ she replied. ‘I’ll phone and see if we can get the referral this week.’

  ‘Don’t fuss. I’m OK, the spray works well.’

  ‘Yes, but you can’t rely on it. What brought it on? Did you get annoyed about something?’

  ‘I’m going to get annoyed about being fussed over,’ he replied.

  Maureen turned away and headed back to the kitchen.

  ‘Darling!’ he called after her. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean that. That was a shitty thing to say. Please forgive me?’

  She returned and kissed him on his forehead. At that moment she heard his usual mobile ringing in the dining room.

  ‘Ignore it,’ she said firmly.

  ‘I can’t. It’s might be important.’

  Maureen sighed and realised that she had to back off. Ron would never change but she was beginning to get seriously worried that he would have a heart attack before they had the chance to get married. She felt certain that it was the call on his other mobile which had been stressful enough to bring on his attack. She just wondered what on earth it could have been.

  **

  ‘Thanks, everyone!’ said Mike Harris, bringing the meeting to attention and hitching up his trousers. ‘I won’t keep you too long as it’s been a long day.’

  His team looked tired and in some cases slightly crumpled and dishevelled. Several were sipping coffees to give them a caffeine boost.

  ‘So, events of last night on Foal Lane. Sean Bailey killed, known to us here in Persford, the second deceased,’ he pointed to a photograph, ‘fingerprints match those of Travis Cripps, a resident of Barnet. The Met is sending through his file, contacting next of kin etcetera. They will organise formal identification.’

  ‘So, what’s he doing in Persford then?’ asked Dave Goodman.

  ‘I’ll come on to that in a minute. We are still waiting for forensics before we can confirm that drugs were involved. It’s a complex scene, there was blood everywhere so there might have been more injured parties. Shani, check with other hospitals to see if anyone else was brought in injured, stab or bullet wounds.’

  ‘Sir,’ replied Shani.

  ‘I’ve spoken to Chris Mills and he thinks there is a good chance that the two men involved were conducting business with a County Drug Line. As we didn’t find large amounts of money on the two victims, it’s likely that the transaction went wrong in some way.’

  ‘So, their drugs were stolen by the County Drug line, then?’ asked Shani. ‘Or could they have been getting supplies from them and the transaction was called off?’

  ‘Either scenario is possible at this stage. Whoever they encountered are ruthless and not afraid to use force.’

  ‘So does this mean we have a new Drug Line setting up a base in Persford?’ asked Shani.

  ‘Yes, sadly that seems to be the case. We found a burner phone on Sean Bailey. There is one number which has been dialled numerous times. We phoned that number and it was answered, Kilburn Boys.’

  ‘So they are from north London then?’

  ‘Yes, well, we assume so. We didn’t continue the conversation. So, we contacted Inspector Mills, Drug Squad and they are following this up. They will text from an unregistered mobile, try to find out what they are offering. Get to know the set-up, that sort of thing,’ he paused and looked at Dave Goodman, ‘Dave anything else to add about the rest of the call history?’

  ‘We are still working through it, so many are Pay As You Go numbers.’

  ‘We are no strangers to drugs in Persford but up until now, the incidents have been manageable. Too high but not as high as other towns. If Persford has been selected as this gang’s next big target, then we could be looking at drug dealing on a whole new scale. They will be busy recruiting to expand their network. Our town, on the whole, is quite affluent but there are pockets of deprivation and these will be the areas they target.’

  ‘What about students?’ asked Andy.

  ‘Well, students always make good customers but the current modus operandi is to recruit vulnerable children and young adults to work for the cartels.’

  The mood was sombre as the team took in the news and realised what it meant for Persford.

  ‘OK, keep at it. Once we get the forensics report we should have a better idea how to proceed. Any questions or comments?’

  ‘Sir, we spoke to the victim of the car-jacking, Pete Davis and he was most unhelpful. Refused to give a sample of DNA. We are waiting for forensics on the car which was discovered nearby.’

  ‘OK, well, keep me posted. Anything else?’ He scanned the room.

  ‘What about Ron Radford?’ asked Andy.

  ‘It’s a tenuous link. We don’t want to be accused of harassing him. Just because Bailey was an ex-employee it doesn’t mean Radford’s involved. I think we need to see how things develop.’

  Andy Walters was clearly unhappy at this comment. The trouble was that Superintendent Leighton saw Ron Radford in an entirely different light from the rest of CID. It was frustrating in the extreme.

  ‘Shani, what about traffic cameras?’ asked the Inspector.

  ‘Not a huge amount to report so far, sir. We think we may have picked up a car driving at speed along the main road from Foal Lane. Number plates don’t match the make of car, they belong to a car previously registered in the London area. We’ll look into it and see whether we can get anything from the make and model but it’s a long shot.’

  ‘OK, thanks, Shani. Also, we need to find out what’s the word on the street about a drug line moving into the area. Chat with some known dealers on the scene. Lean on them.’

  ‘I’m happy to make a start on that angle,’ offered DC Dave Goodman.

  ‘Thanks, Dave. And Shani, when you need a break from traffic cameras look at Sean Bailey’s past associates. Track them down. We need to know what he was involved in immediately before he died.’

  ‘Sir,’ replied Shani making notes.

  ‘Andy, anything to add?’

  ‘Not until you let me speak to our old friend Ron,’ he added sarcastically.

  Inspector Harris ignored his comment. ‘OK, that’s all for today. Time to get some rest and we will carry on tomorrow.’

  The meeting ended and Mike Harris left the room without looking at his petulant colleague. Andy regretted his words but this latest case had opened old wounds. They had been so close to nailing the Lord of Brensford Manor as he disdainfully thought of him. One of these days Mr Radford would get too confident and bring about his own downfall. That single event would be the highlight of DS Walters’ career.

  Chapter 12

  The three partners of PerzSolve were starting the day discussing plans around the development of UP-627-TK, the promising treatment for glioblastoma brain tumours.

  ‘Well, we are working like mad to finish the remaining compounds to include in the patent. Our one year since filing is up next week,’ said Nick Thomas. From the date of the initial filing of a patent, there is a year when additional examples can be added to strengthen the scope of it.

  ‘So how many examples will we have in total?’ asked Matt Pearson.

  ‘One hundred and sixty-two are guaranteed to be finished, including all the necessary data. Adam reckons he can get four more completed but I’ve told him not to worry if he can’t. We can always include them with minimal data if time runs out.’

  ‘He’s done a sterling job, I must say,’ added Brett Chandler.

  ‘He’s been working twelve hour days,’ said Nick. ‘I was a bit worried he was overdoing it but he seems to be full of energy.’

  ‘It’s remarkable really, I thought he might need more time off after the incident with Joe,’ said Matt seriously. He seemed to
drift off into another world for a few minutes and the others remained quiet as images of the horror which Joe had unleashed returned once more to haunt them.

  ‘We mustn’t forget the rest of the team,’ said Nick. ‘Hannah and Seth have provided solid support too.’

  ‘I think we should have a meal out or something to celebrate, after the filing deadline,’ said Brett. ‘It’s been a really brilliant effort.’

  ‘I’ll second that,’ said Matt. ‘So, Nick, how are things progressing with our contractors in terms of the clinical batches?’

  ‘It’s going well. The company here in the UK got to grips with the route and it all went swimmingly with all the batches meeting GLP standards.’ Any materials destined for human use needed to conform to strict purity guidelines and be manufactured in sterile environments satisfying Good Laboratory Practice standards. ‘Supplies are on track to support both Phase I continuation studies and Phase II.’

  ‘Excellent. What about bulk for ongoing toxicology studies?’

  ‘Again, it’s going to plan,’ Nick crossed his fingers. ‘CheniSyn in Chennai have impressed us. It’s a shame I never got to visit them. They seem like a highly skilled outfit.’

  ‘So, when does the contract with IndSyn end?’

  ‘Next week,’ said Nick. ‘We won’t be renewing with them. It’s possible we will use them in the future, we’ll just have to see.’

  ‘Anything else?’ Matt asked Nick?

  ‘No, that’s me finished.’

  ‘I spoke to Rebecca Levinson about the results from the Phase II trials and they were very encouraging. All patients saw a reduction in tumour size. It gives us an indication about the dosing regime. She’s working with pharmacology on that at the moment. The results are good enough to ensure that Cancer Research funds more trials and also there will be NHS funding.’

  ‘What about more clinical units being involved?’

  ‘Yes, it will be extended to ten I think, currently patients in six centres have received the drug.’

  ‘Wow. That’s awesome,’ added Brett. ‘It means we should have no trouble attracting extra funding. It might be time to talk about increasing equity in PersCure?’