The Police Doctor's Discovery

by Laura MacDonald

  ‘I know you!’ she exclaimed.

  Rachel moved forward, prepared to intervene, but Nick merely smiled and nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said calmly, ‘It’s Nick, Nick Kowalski.’ He held out his hand but Diana ignored it, instead glaring at Nick then jabbing the air with her finger.

  ‘You,’ she said, ‘were trouble!’

  Lucy looked anxiously up at her father as both Rachel and James moved forward together to placate Diana and lead her away, back to the car.

  By the time Rachel returned there was no sign of Nick or Lucy. Only Georgie sat at the table. She rolled her eyes in a gesture of understanding and resignation as Rachel sank thankfully onto a chair.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ‘SHE never did like him, did she?’ said Georgie after a while during which the two of them simply sat and stared across the arena.

  ‘No,’ Rachel agreed with a sigh, ‘she didn’t, and he knew it as well. Do you know, she was the reason he went into the police force?’

  ‘What?’ Georgie stared at her while far out in the arena the Westhampstead Marching Band began playing Amazing Grace.

  ‘He overheard her make a comment about him to my father, something on the lines that he was a dead loss and would never amount to anything. He vowed to prove her wrong.’

  ‘And he’s done just that,’ said Georgie quietly.

  ‘Yes,’ Rachel agreed. ‘Pity she doesn’t really understand.’

  ‘You don’t think she does?’ Georgie frowned and when Rachel shook her head she said, ‘She did recognise him, though, didn’t she?’

  ‘Sort of,’ Rachel replied, leaning back in her chair and stretching, ‘but she probably only knew that it was someone she’d known a long time ago.’

  ‘But she told him he’d been trouble...’

  ‘I know, but I doubt she would have known what that was. That’s how she is these days, Georgie. Sometimes she’ll remember bits and pieces but she won’t be able to set them into context. She may have briefly recognised Nick and she may even have associated his face with some anxiety, but she won’t have remembered what that anxiety was.’

  ‘That’s terrible,’ said Georgie slowly, ‘and so hard on your poor dad.’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ Rachel agreed, ‘but he loves her, he always has, so much so that he’d lay down his own life for her. But I do wonder quite how he’ll cope when things get worse, which, of course, they will...’ She trailed off and for a while the two of them watched the band as it marched up and down the arena.

  ‘He still cares for you, you know,’ said Georgie at last, breaking the silence between them.

  ‘Who, my father?’ said Rachel with a weak smile.

  ‘Of course your father.’ Georgie gave a dismissive little gesture. ‘But I was meaning Nick.’

  ‘Oh?’ Rachel shrugged. ‘What makes you think that?’ She spoke casually but she was instantly on guard, wondering what her friend was about to say.

  ‘Several things really,’ Georgie replied, ‘but mostly the way he looks at you, especially when he thinks you aren’t looking. And he couldn’t wait for you to meet his daughter.’

  ‘You think so?’

  ‘I know so. I could tell, just as I could tell that it is important to him that you two should like each other and get along.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know about that...’ said Rachel slowly, but deep inside she felt a small warm throb of happiness at Georgie’s words. ‘She’s a lovely little girl, isn’t she?’

  ‘Yes, she is,’ Georgie agreed, ‘and very like her father.’ She paused. ‘Did you know her mother has a new partner?’

  ‘No, I didn’t.’ Rachel looked up quickly. ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘A friend of a friend,’ said Georgie vaguely. ‘Apparently it’s someone Marilyn was at school with who’s recently moved back into the area.’

  ‘Isn’t it strange how people move away from their home town and then very often gravitate back?’ Rachel mused. ‘Take us, for example, and Nick, and this guy you’ve just mentioned who’s with Marilyn Rooney.’

  ‘Kowalski,’ said Georgie.

  ‘Sorry?’ Rachel frowned.

  ‘You said Marilyn Rooney. Didn’t you mean Marilyn Kowalski?’

  ‘Oh, yes, I suppose I did.’ It sounded strange. Marilyn Kowalski. She didn’t like it. With a frown she stood up. ‘I’ll have to be going,’ she said, looking down at Georgie who squinted up at her, shielding her eyes from the last rays of the afternoon sun.

  ‘Oh, do you have to go?’ Georgie sounded disappointed.

  ‘Yes, I have a house call I want to make before I go home.’

  ‘OK.’ Georgie stood up, ‘I guess I may as well go home as well.’

  Together they made their way back through the dwindling crowd to the field where their cars were parked.

  * * *

  The house call Rachel wanted to make was to the elderly man she had previously visited who was in the final stages of terminal cancer. His family were all with him and he was in the day-to-day care of the community nurses, having recently been discharged from the local hospital. Rachel spoke with the community nurse who was just leaving the house as she arrived, then checked and adjusted the patient’s medication before giving a few words of comfort and encouragement to the man’s wife. After leaving the house she called at the medical centre, which was closed for the weekend, to leave the cancer patient’s records in case another doctor required them before the surgery was open again. She was about to leave when a sudden impulse sent her up the stairs to her consulting room to log on to her computer and check her emails. As she had half expected, there was a message from ‘your friend’. She clicked on the message and opened it. It read: You looked lovely today. Jeans suit you.

  She stared at the screen. It had to be Tommy. He had been there earlier that day at the fair. She hadn’t thought he’d seen her but he must have done, maybe not when she’d seen him, but later, possibly when she’d been sitting outside the refreshment tent with Georgie, Nick and Lucy, or perhaps even when her parents had been there. She would have to have a word with Tommy, tell him to stop all this, that this sort of behaviour was not acceptable. But would he understand that? Maybe she should have a word with Eileen. Perhaps she could have some influence over her son and what he did.

  Troubled by what she had discovered, Rachel left the building, carefully resetting the alarm system and locking the double front doors behind her.

  On her return to Cathedral Close she spent a couple of hours catching up on some paperwork then, before preparing a meal for herself, she phoned her father.

  ‘Hello, darling.’ He sounded really pleased at hearing her voice.

  ‘I was just wondering how Mummy was after you got home.’

  ‘She was very tired,’ he replied. ‘I think all the people and events over-stimulated her. She’s sleeping now.’

  ‘That’s good,’ Rachel said. ‘And what about you—how are you?’

  ‘Oh, I’m all right,’ her father replied, but there was a weariness in his voice that made Rachel’s heart ache. ‘It’s your mother who’s my main concern.’ He paused then went on, ‘I hope young Kowalski wasn’t offended by her.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have thought so,’ Rachel replied, ‘not for one moment.’

  ‘He always knew your mother didn’t like him, didn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, Daddy.’ She gave a little sigh. ‘I guess he did. But you didn’t like him either, did you?’

  ‘I didn’t think he was right for you,’ her father replied carefully, ‘at least, not at that time. But I can honestly say I didn’t dislike him. And I do have to say he’s done very well now—what rank is he in the police force?’

  ‘Detective Chief Inspector.’

  ‘Yes, I thought so. I really am amazed at what he’s achieved.’

  ‘So, if you and Mummy had known then what you know now, would he have been deemed suitable for your only daughter?’

  ‘Oh, Rachel, how can I answer that?’ He paused again. ‘But
you are happy now, aren’t you, darling?’

  ‘How do you mean—happy?’

  ‘Well, with Jeremy?’

  ‘Oh, that sort of happy.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘Well, now, let’s see...’

  ‘You have to think about it?’ Her father sounded mildly surprised.

  ‘Let’s just say it’s going through one of those rough patches,’ said Rachel. ‘Maybe it will survive, maybe it won’t. I really don’t know, but I dare say this year apart will sort things out one way or the other.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Rachel, I had no idea.’

  ‘You couldn’t have known. I hadn’t said anything.’

  ‘Young Kowalski’s marriage didn’t work out either, did it?’

  ‘No, Daddy, it didn’t.’ She gave another laugh. ‘Maybe Nick and I might have been right for each other all those years ago—who knows?’

  ‘Do you blame your mother and me for that?’

  ‘What? No, of course not,’ she went on rapidly, not waiting for a reply. ‘Nick dumped me soon after I got to medical school—found someone else. Mummy told me that. No, it wasn’t your fault. I guess he simply couldn’t cope with me being away, that’s all.’

  ‘Were you very upset at the time?’ He sounded worried.

  ‘Suicidal,’ she said cheerfully.

  ‘Rachel...?’ There was real anxiety in his voice now.

  ‘Only joking,’ she said. ‘I wasn’t quite that bad, but I was pretty heartbroken. At that age I guess something like that seems like the end of the world.’

  ‘You don’t think now there’s a possibility—?’

  ‘Shouldn’t think so,’ she interrupted him quickly, not wanting him to even put it into words. ‘No. It’s a mistake to go back. Things can never be the same again.’

  ‘No, maybe not,’ he agreed. ‘But I would like to see you happy again, Rachel.’

  ‘Settled down with two point four children, you mean?’

  ‘Something like that, I suppose, yes.’

  ‘Well, maybe one day, Daddy. Who knows? Anyway, I’d better go now and get myself something to eat.’

  ‘Are you on call tonight?’

  ‘Not for the practice,’ she replied, ‘but I am on call for the police.’

  ‘Are they any closer to catching that young girl’s murderer?’

  ‘I don’t know. I believe they had one or two leads to follow up.’

  ‘I delivered her, you know,’ he said slowly, ‘little Kaylee Munns.’

  ‘Oh, Daddy, did you?’ She felt a sudden stab of compassion.

  ‘Yes, I did. Pretty little baby she was.’

  ‘I’m so sorry—you must have been upset to hear about her death.’

  ‘Yes, I was, actually,’ he admitted. ‘I tried to tell your mother about it, but she didn’t know what I was talking about. Anyway, I’d better let you go now—but do take care, won’t you, Rachel?’

  ‘Yes, Daddy, of course I will. And...I’ll try to come over for lunch in a day or so.’

  ‘That would be lovely—your mother will like that. Goodnight, darling.’

  ‘Night, Daddy.’

  It was much later that same evening, after she’d eaten her solitary supper, showered and was preparing for bed, that her phone rang. Offering up a silent prayer that it wouldn’t be her mystery caller, she picked up the phone.

  ‘Rachel.’

  ‘Nick?’ Her fingers tightened involuntarily around the receiver.

  ‘Can you come to the station?’

  ‘What’s the problem?’

  ‘There’s been an incident—a young woman has been attacked but managed to escape her attacker. We need you to examine her.’

  ‘I’m on my way.’

  ‘No! Rachel, listen, we’ll send a car for you.’

  ‘There’s no need,’ she protested.

  ‘There’s every need. I can’t come myself but a squad car will pick you up.’

  ‘OK. If you insist.’

  ‘I do insist.’ The line went dead and as Rachel replaced the receiver she felt that by now familiar surge of adrenalin at the thought of working with Nick again.

  The car arrived ten minutes later, giving Rachel just time enough to dress in trousers and a dark roll-necked sweater, to tie back her hair, which was still damp from the shower, and to grab her case, her jacket and her keys. There was bright moonlight that night and the sky was clear and starry with a chill in the air.

  As Rachel left the house and a young police officer opened the rear passenger door of the patrol vehicle for her, she noticed a second car in the close. It was parked a few houses down, close to the cathedral, and from the light of the streetlamps she noticed that someone was sitting in the darkness in the passenger seat. She imagined it was simply someone waiting as the driver of the car visited another of the residents of the close.

  ‘Good evening, ma’am.’ The officer stood aside to allow her to enter the vehicle.

  ‘Good evening.’ Rachel ducked her head, climbed into the car and fastened her seat-belt. The vehicle drew away, gathering speed as it nosed out of the close and onto the wider, deserted roads around the cathedral.

  On arrival at police headquarters Rachel was met by Nick and Terry, both of whom appeared grim-faced and unsmiling.

  ‘Thanks for coming, Rachel,’ said Nick briefly. ‘Come to my office and I’ll bring you up to date on what’s happening.’

  She followed Nick down the corridor to his by now familiar office, where he indicated for her to take a seat. Nick himself sat behind his desk while Terry leaned against the closed door.

  ‘Officers were called to a house in Maybury Street this evening.’ Nick launched straight into the details. ‘There, they found a young woman, Rowena Woodhouse, aged twenty-six, in a highly distressed state. She was in the company of her parents and her boyfriend. It appeared that she had attended a farewell celebration for one of her colleagues at the local library where she is a librarian. They had been to an Italian restaurant in town but Rowena had felt unwell and had left before the others—she’d been unable to call a cab so she began to walk home.’ Nick paused then, taking a deep breath, continued, ‘Someone jumped out on her in an alleyway between the restaurant and the canal and attacked her—she claims she was raped. Her screams attracted the attention of some passers-by who came to her rescue, causing her attacker to run off. These people took her home where her parents called us. We’d like you to examine her, please, Rachel. Usual swabs so that forensics can test for DNA and anything else that she may be able to tell you.’

  ‘She’s pretty traumatised at the moment,’ said Terry, ‘but she may well feel able to talk to you.’

  ‘You mentioned a boyfriend,’ said Rachel. ‘Where was he in all this?’

  ‘Apparently he was at home, watching television,’ Nick replied. ‘Rowena’s father phoned him after she had been brought home and he went to their house immediately. The officers who attended said he was in a distraught state. He came to the station with Rowena and his statement is being taken at the moment.’

  ‘Right.’ Rachel stood up. ‘I’d best get on with it, then.’

  ‘I’ll take you along to the medical room,’ said Nick, as Terry opened the door.

  Rowena was sitting huddled in a chair, shaking uncontrollably, a tartan blanket around her shoulders, her thin hands encircling a mug of tea. She didn’t even look up as Rachel and the two detectives came into the room and briefly acknowledged the WPC on duty.

  ‘Rowena.’ Nick crouched in front of the woman who jumped violently then cringed away from him. ‘This is Dr Beresford. She has come to talk to you and to examine you.’ He straightened up and nodded at Rachel. ‘We’ll leave you to it,’ he murmured. Turning, he beckoned to Terry, who had been hovering near the door, and the two of them left the room, shutting the door behind them, leaving Rachel with the WPC and Rowena.

  ‘Rowena.’ It was Rachel’s turn to crouch in front of the girl, who didn’t react in quite the same way as she had to Nick. ‘I know thi
s is very hard for you after what you have been through tonight but I do need to get a clearer picture as to what exactly happened to you.’

  The woman’s hands tightened around the mug and as she glanced up briefly Rachel noticed the tears that ran silently down her cheeks. ‘I understand,’ she said, drawing up a chair and sitting in front of Rowena, ‘that you went out for a meal with some friends from work, is that right? Rowena?’ she prompted when the woman remained silent.

  ‘Yes,’ Rowena replied at last, her voice barely more than a whisper.

  ‘Can you tell me what happened?’

  Another silence then with a huge shuddering sigh she began to talk, her voice still low. ‘We went to Guiseppe’s,’ she said, ‘the Italian restaurant in Prince’s Street. Towards the end of the meal...I...I didn’t feel too well...I thought I was starting a migraine.’

  ‘So what did you do?’

  ‘I decided to go home...without waiting for the others...’

  ‘Did you say anything to them?’

  ‘I told Gill—she’s a librarian, same as me—that I was going. She wanted to come with me...but I said no, that she should stay...that...that I would be all right...Oh!’ She choked at the implication of what she had just said.

  ‘Did you try to ring for a taxi?’

  ‘Yes...from my mobile...in the ladies loo...but I couldn’t get one. I tried three—two I couldn’t get through to and the third wouldn’t have been available for three quarters of an hour...So I decided to walk. It isn’t really that far from the restaurant to my home, not if you go by the canal...’

  ‘I understand you live with your parents, Rowena?’ said Rachel, leaning forward as Rowena’s hands began shaking so hard that the tea in the mug started slopping over the sides. Gently she extricated the mug and set it down on the floor.

  ‘Yes.’ Rowena nodded. ‘I could have phoned my father to come and get me, I know, or even my boyfriend, Stephen, but I thought the walk might do me good...’

  ‘How long have you been seeing your boyfriend, Rowena?’

  ‘Three months. We met at the Baptist church that we both attend.’

  ‘So you left the restaurant alone. Can you tell me what happened next?’