The Police Doctor's Discovery

by Laura MacDonald

  He was frowning now, the dark brows drawn tightly together. ‘But you put it all in the letter,’ he said.

  ‘Letter? What letter?’ she asked in bewilderment.

  ‘The last letter you ever wrote to me, of course,’ he said, and there was exasperation in his voice now. ‘You wrote saying it was all over.’

  ‘Nick, I didn’t,’ Rachel protested. ‘I swear I never wrote any such letter.’

  ‘But it was from you...your handwriting...’

  ‘But I didn’t write it!’ she declared.

  ‘Then who did?’ asked Nick quietly.

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ said Rachel, ‘but it certainly wasn’t me—why, I was heartbroken when you suddenly stopped writing.’

  ‘Yet you didn’t try to contact me to find out why?’

  ‘I waited for a few weeks,’ she said slowly, ‘then...then I phoned and asked my mother if she’d seen you. She asked me why I wanted to know and I said I hadn’t heard from you. She said that she’d seen you around the town with somebody else. I assumed that was why you’d stopped writing—that you’d met someone else. Were you seeing someone else as quickly as that?’ she demanded suddenly.

  ‘Of course not!’ he retorted. ‘I was devastated when you chucked me—that was probably just your mother making sure we didn’t take up with each other again. She never did like me, Rachel. I bet she couldn’t believe her luck when you told her that I’d stopped writing to you...unless, of course...’

  ‘Unless what?’ said Rachel sharply. ‘You’re not suggesting it was my mother who wrote that letter to you?’

  Nick shrugged. ‘I’m not suggesting anything, Rachel, but the fact remains, someone wrote it, and it wasn’t you.’

  ‘She wouldn’t, Nick,’ Rachel cried passionately. ‘I’m sure she would never have done anything like that. Oh, I know she didn’t approve of me going out with you, but she would never have gone to those lengths to stop it. Look, I’ll ask her if you like, although I doubt she’d even know what I’m talking about, given the way she is now.’

  Nick took a deep breath. ‘Does it matter now?’ he said at last. ‘Does any of it matter? After all, we’ve found each other again, haven’t we?’ He stood up and, moving forward until he was standing directly in front of Rachel, held out his hands. When she lifted her own hands he took them in his and drew her to her feet. Looking deeply into her eyes, he said, ‘And we have found each other again, haven’t we?’

  ‘Yes, Nick,’ she said softly, ‘oh, yes, of course we have. But when I think of all that time we’ve missed...’

  ‘I know, I know,’ he murmured as he dropped small kisses first on her forehead, then her cheek, her eyelids and then more lingeringly on her mouth, ‘but doesn’t that just mean we have a lot of serious catching up to do?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said with a little sigh, ‘yes, I guess it does.’ But while the prospect of that lay tantalisingly on the horizon Rachel still felt she wanted to know who had been responsible for Nick and her parting in the way they had.

  ‘I always say there’s no time like the present, especially when it comes to making up for lost time,’ said Nick, as he kissed the warm hollow of her throat.

  ‘That may be so,’ replied Rachel, ‘but aren’t you supposed to be seeing Lucy?’

  ‘Not until later,’ he said, his arms tightening around her, ‘and I’m hoping that’ll you’ll join us. It’s essential to me that you and Lucy get to know one another.’

  ‘Of course I will,’ she said. ‘There’s nothing I would like better.’

  ‘Wonderful,’ he said, ‘but that still gives us a couple of hours...’

  CHAPTER TEN

  THEY picked Lucy up from her mother’s at two o’clock. Marilyn came out to the gate and eyed Rachel warily but Lucy bounded happily into the car.

  ‘Marilyn,’ said Nick, ‘you remember Rachel?’

  ‘Of course,’ Marilyn replied and it crossed Rachel’s mind that she’d said it as if she, Rachel, was someone she was hardly likely to forget.

  ‘Rachel is in practice at the medical centre for a while,’ Nick went on doggedly, as if he was fully aware of the rather frosty reception from his ex-wife but was not going to let it faze him in any way. ‘Lucy met her at the Michaelmas Fair—didn’t you, Luce?’ He half turned to his daughter who was securing her seat-belt in the rear seat of the car.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I did. Hi, Dr Beresford.’

  ‘Hello, Lucy,’ Rachel replied. Lowering her head so she could see Marilyn through the open window, she added, ‘Hello, Marilyn. Long time no see. How are you?’

  ‘I’m fine, thanks,’ Marilyn replied. Speaking to Nick again, she said, ‘Geoff and I are going shopping but we’ll be home around six.’

  ‘Well, I was hoping Lucy could have a meal with us,’ Nick replied.

  ‘I don’t know about that...’ Marilyn began, but it was Lucy herself who put paid to any further discussion.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ she cried, ‘yes, please. I can, can’t I, Mum? Please?’

  ‘Well, yes, I suppose so.’ Marilyn sounded reluctant. ‘But I want her back by nine.’

  ‘OK,’ said Nick lightly, ‘nine o’clock it will be.’

  There was no discussion about Marilyn between Nick and Rachel, not with Lucy there, but Rachel rather suspected there might be at a later time when they were alone. If what Nick had told her previously was correct, Marilyn had resented Rachel’s presence in Nick’s life in the past, and even though since then things had altered radically there was still the possibility she might harbour the same feelings. But, thought Rachel as they drove into town, Marilyn had more than had her chance with Nick and it certainly wasn’t Rachel’s fault that their marriage had failed.

  They took Lucy tenpin bowling and for the first time Rachel really came to understand just how much this one small girl meant to Nick and likewise how much Nick meant to Lucy. After the bowling Nick bought huge ice-creams for everyone, then they returned to his apartment and he made spaghetti Bolognese for supper.

  ‘I didn’t know you could cook,’ said Rachel, as she helped clear the dishes while Lucy curled up on the sofa, watching a favourite film.

  ‘I suspect there may be many things about me you don’t know,’ he said softly, ‘but, hey, it could be great fun finding out.’

  ‘Lucy’s a lovely child,’ said Rachel.

  ‘I’m so glad you two like each other,’ said Nick as he loaded the dishwasher.

  ‘Did I detect a certain frostiness from Marilyn?’ Rachel spoke quietly so that Lucy wouldn’t hear.

  ‘Maybe.’ Nick shrugged. ‘But she’ll just have to get used to it. She is rebuilding her life, she must be prepared for me to do the same.’

  ‘Nick,’ Rachel began hesitantly, ‘I’ve been wondering...’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ he said. ‘So have I. About that letter?’

  ‘Yes, it’s bugging me,’ Rachel replied. ‘Could it...could it have been...?’

  ‘Marilyn?’ he asked, raising his eyebrows. When Rachel nodded, he went on, ‘I know, I wondered the same thing, but somehow I can’t quite see it.’

  ‘You said yourself that she’d always had a crush on you,’ said Rachel slowly. ‘Maybe she thought if I wasn’t on the scene...?’

  ‘Possibly.’ Nick shrugged again. ‘But I really don’t think so. How would she have been able to copy your handwriting so exactly? Remember, I’d been receiving letters from you for some time and this one certainly had me fooled, so on the face of it I would say it had to be someone who knew you very well.’

  ‘That’s the detective in you talking,’ she teased with a smile. Growing serious again, she said, ‘But from what you say, it does sound unlikely to have been Marilyn. I would like to know who it was, though,’ she said after a moment.

  ‘I know,’ he agreed. ‘So would I. Whoever it was has a lot to answer for.’

  ‘I’m having lunch with my parents tomorrow,’ said Rachel slowly. ‘If I get the chance I may mention it to my father.’
>
  ‘Would he have known, though, if it was your mother?’ asked Nick doubtfully.

  ‘Only if she told him,’ Rachel replied, ‘and that is the only way we would find out for certain, because it’s very unlikely she is able to remember.’

  ‘Don’t upset her, Rachel,’ said Nick. ‘It’s not worth it now, after all this time.’

  ‘No, probably not.’ Rachel gave a sigh. ‘I can’t help agreeing with you, though, that whoever it was certainly has a lot to answer for.’

  Nick nodded then glanced at his watch. ‘It’s a quarter to nine,’ he said. ‘I have to get Lucy home.’

  ‘And I should be going.’

  ‘Can’t you stay a while? I won’t be long.’ Reaching out his hand he gently touched her cheek, the gesture somehow both tender and exciting.

  ‘Do you realise I’ve been out since very early this morning?’ she protested with a little laugh.

  ‘Then a couple more hours won’t make much difference,’ he replied, the expression in his eyes leaving no doubt as to the meaning of his words.

  ‘All right,’ she said softly. ‘I’ll stay awhile.’

  ‘Wonderful,’ he said. ‘I’ll be right back.’

  * * *

  ‘So is it young Kowalski?’ It was the following day and Rachel was at her parents’ home, having just enjoyed a Sunday lunch cooked by her father. Her mother had been even more vague and forgetful than usual and had retired to her bedroom for a rest. Rachel and her father were sitting in the conservatory at the rear of Ashton House and Rachel had just told him that her relationship with Jeremy was at an end.

  ‘I think it could well be,’ Rachel replied carefully in answer to her father’s question, ‘but it wasn’t only that. Jeremy also has someone else. But, yes, you’re right, I am seeing Nick.’

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ her father replied, ‘after seeing the two of you together at the fair.’

  ‘I think really, Daddy, Nick has always been the one.’

  ‘Yes,’ he agreed slowly, ‘I dare say you’re right.’

  There was a long silence between them as Rachel geared herself up to ask the inevitable question. ‘You know...’ she began at last, ‘you know when Nick and I parted before...?’

  ‘Yes.’ Her father nodded. ‘Didn’t you say he ended it soon after you went to medical school?’

  ‘I did,’ she agreed, ‘at least that’s what I thought, but, in fact, things were a bit different. You see, it appears he received a letter which he believed to be from me, telling him that our relationship was over because I had met and fallen in love with someone else. The thing is, Daddy...’ she took a deep breath ‘...I never wrote any such letter. But Nick thought I had, and so he stopped writing to me.’

  ‘That’s strange, isn’t it?’ Her father frowned. ‘But didn’t you try to contact him to find out why he had stopped writing?’

  ‘No,’ Rachel replied, ‘because when I spoke to Mummy about it and told her that he had stopped writing, she told me that she had seen him with someone else. After that, I believed he had ended the relationship without a word of explanation because he had met someone else.’

  ‘It’s all sounding a bit complicated,’ said James, scratching his head.

  ‘Not really, Daddy,’ said Rachel. ‘What it boils down to is that Nick and I parted because of whoever it was who wrote that letter.’

  Her father was silent for a moment then, casting her a sidelong glance, he said, ‘Any ideas as to who it might have been?’

  ‘Nick says it must have been someone who knew me very well to have been able to imitate my handwriting so perfectly.’

  Her father stared at her in the silence that followed then slowly he said, ‘Rachel, you’re not thinking...that this might have been your mother, are you?’

  ‘I don’t know what to think, Daddy.’ Rachel shook her head. ‘It had to be someone who wanted us to part and Mummy had always made it very plain that she didn’t like Nick—and she was very relieved when we split up. She also told me he was seeing someone else when in actual fact he wasn’t...so...’

  ‘She wouldn’t, Rachel,’ her father replied firmly. ‘She would never have done anything like that—she would have looked on it as forgery and you know how she feels regarding the letter of the law. And in those days she was a magistrate...’

  ‘Well, that’s what I thought—’ Rachel began, but her father interrupted her.

  ‘Besides,’ he said, ‘if she had done anything like that she would have told me. Oh, she might not have told me at the time but it would have come out later, maybe at the time of young Kowalski’s marriage. So, no, Rachel, I’m ninety-nine per cent certain that this had nothing to do with your mother. And as for the other one per cent, well, I’m afraid with the way your mother is now, I can never pursue it.’

  ‘I wouldn’t want you to.’ Rachel reached out and touched his arm. ‘You’ve got quite enough on your plate as it is.’ She paused. ‘You are coping all right, aren’t you?’ she added anxiously.

  ‘For the moment, yes.’ He nodded.

  ‘And when things get worse, I’ll make sure you have help,’ Rachel said firmly.

  ‘What about you?’ he went on after a moment. ‘How are you liking all this police work?’

  ‘I enjoy police work,’ Rachel replied. ‘I always have.’

  ‘There’s been a bit more excitement round here just lately than there usually is,’ her father observed.

  ‘You can say that again,’ said Rachel lightly. She hadn’t told him about the fact that she also might have been in danger. She hadn’t wanted to worry him and now that the danger was past she didn’t feel there was any need to mention it.

  She left Ashton House shortly after that and returned to her own home. Nick, she knew, was on duty that day but later that night she phoned him at home and told him what her father had said.

  ‘He was pretty certain it couldn’t have been my mother,’ she said. ‘And really I’m relieved. I didn’t want it to have been her and deep down I didn’t really think she would have done such a thing. On the other hand, I would still very much like to know who did write it.’

  ‘You know, Rachel,’ he said, ‘we may never know.’

  ‘You’re probably right.’

  ‘And maybe now that we’ve found each other again it doesn’t matter,’ he said softly.

  ‘No,’ she agreed, ‘maybe it doesn’t.’

  * * *

  The following day was incredibly busy, as Mondays in any health centre very often were. In reception the staff were stretched to their limits after Philip Newton phoned in to say that Julie was sick and wouldn’t be in for a couple of days. Rachel had a full morning surgery, followed by house visits, then a working lunch combined with a staff meeting. During the meeting Bruce mentioned a sales pitch from a pharmaceutical company that was coming via email concerning drugs and care for patients with Alzheimer’s disease.

  ‘I’ll check that out,’ said Rachel to Bruce as they left the room together. ‘There might be something new to help my mother.’

  When she reached her consulting room and clicked the button to receive emails there was indeed one from the drug company, but it was forgotten in the shock she felt when she saw there was also one from ‘your friend’.

  For a moment she simply stared at the screen in disbelief. It couldn’t be, she thought, it simply couldn’t. The man was in police custody, awaiting trial for heaven’s sake. Surely there was no way he would have access to a computer? With a hand that shook she opened it. The message, stark and clear, was chilling in its simplicity. I’m still here, it read. I bet you thought I’d gone.

  Immediately Rachel picked up the phone, dialled the number of police headquarters and asked to be put through to DCI Kowalski. She was told that he was out on a case but that she could leave a message on his voicemail, which he picked up at frequent intervals. ‘Nick,’ she said after the tone, ‘it’s Rachel. I thought you should know I’ve had another email. It says; “I’m still
here. I bet you thought I’d gone”. It’s given me the jitters, Nick, I don’t mind telling you. Perhaps you could give me a ring when you get this message.’

  Rachel found it incredibly difficult to concentrate during her afternoon surgery and by four o’clock, when Nick still hadn’t phoned back, she felt quite nauseous. She had been careful to save the email this time and not delete it, knowing that Nick would want to see it. As she was showing the last patient to the door her phone suddenly rang and she grabbed it, thinking it was Nick, but it was Danielle.

  ‘Rachel, I’ve got Philip on the phone,’ she said. ‘He’s very worried about Julie. He’s asking if you could visit.’

  ‘Did he say what’s wrong?’ asked Rachel.

  ‘Pain in her stomach, he said,’ Danielle replied.

  ‘All right, Danielle,’ Rachel replied. ‘Put him through, I’ll speak to him.’ She waited then as she heard the click of the line she said, ‘Philip?’

  ‘Rachel?’

  ‘Yes, what’s the problem with Julie?’

  ‘She’s in a lot of pain, Rachel. She thought it was period pain at first but she says now that it’s much worse than that.’

  ‘Has her period started, Philip?’

  ‘Just a moment, I’ll ask her.’

  There was silence for a few moments then he was back. ‘No,’ he said, ‘she says not but that the pain is really bad now.’

  ‘All right, Philip—tell her to stay in bed and to keep warm and I’ll be over shortly.’

  After hanging up, Rachel stood up, slipped on her jacket, picked up her case and her car keys and left her room. In the corridor she met Bruce and together they made their way to Reception.

  ‘Hello?’ he said on seeing her case. ‘Call out?’

  ‘Yes, to Julie, actually.’

  ‘Our Julie?’ Bruce raised his eyebrows and when Rachel nodded in reply he said, ‘What’s the problem?’

  ‘Not sure—abdominal pain, her husband said. I know they’ve been trying for a baby for some time now but without success, and I’ve referred her to gynae—but I’m a bit concerned this could be an ectopic pregnancy.’