Terminal Reaction

by Dawn Marsanne

  Chapter 41

  Bob was also later into work than usual as he’d had to order a taxi to take him into town to collect his car from the solicitor’s car park. Had he been sensible he would have ordered it the previous evening but he was unaccustomed to using taxis and didn’t realise the demand during the rush hour and school run times. He found it hard to comprehend how many children went to school by taxi, such a huge change from his day when most children walked to school. He asked the taxi to drop him in the centre of Persford so he could pop into Marks and Spencer and buy a bunch of flowers for his solicitor Siobhan Jeffries whom he treated so badly. Yesterday had been an awful day but in some ways, it had somehow marked a turning point. It was as if all the pent-up grief and emotion had been gnawing away inside him and he had been refusing to acknowledge it. Somehow it had found a weak point and it had burst through with a ferocity which had later shocked him. His first outlet for his anger had been Brett and then the girl Siobhan. He’d behaved appallingly but it had brought him to his senses and to realise that he needed to seek help, otherwise his grief was going to destroy everything. He thought of his dear wife Joan, she would have hated to see him in this state. He owed it to her memory if nothing else.

  Today would be a day of apologies and a chance to move forward. It was difficult to face up to the fact that he wasn’t coping but he couldn’t carry on in the same vein. He would contact the company’s medical insurers and request some counselling, Piers had suggested it often enough and had on many occasions been rebuffed, but no longer. Armed with a mid-priced bouquet of flowers he walked into the solicitor’s office and stood feeling embarrassed at the front desk.

  ‘Good morning, I wonder if you could give these to Ms Jeffries, I behaved rather rudely yesterday and I wanted to say sorry.’

  ‘Oh, well, that’s very nice of you, could you give me your name?’

  ‘Mr McKewan, Bob,’ he replied.

  ‘Would you like to hand them to her in person, I’m sure she’s available.’

  ‘Er, no I don’t think so,’ and he paused as the receptionist was looking fixedly at him, ‘sorry, well yes, on second thoughts I should do that.’

  The receptionist phoned through and after a couple of minutes Siobhan came through from the door behind reception.

  ‘These are for you,’ said Bob, looking increasingly uncomfortable, ‘I wanted to say sorry, I was a complete pig yesterday,’ and he handed over the bouquet.

  Siobhan looked at Bob, ‘Mr McKewan, that’s really not necessary, but it’s kind of you. They’re lovely,’ and she sniffed at the flowers. ‘We understand, you are going through a difficult time, please don’t hesitate to call me if you have any questions about the estate,’ and she smiled sympathetically at him.

  ‘Well thanks, yes, I’ll do that. Now best get on,’ he said and headed for the door. Reaching the outside he breathed a sigh of relief. It hadn’t been quite as painful as he’d expected. He was amazed he’d gone through with it, a few years ago he couldn’t imagine ever saying sorry like that and admitting his shortcomings. He headed around the corner to retrieve his car. It wasn’t over yet, he had a few more apologies to make before the day was through.

  **

  When Nick finally arrived at work he found that Kirsty had already started to analyse the reaction they were trialling as a precursor to scaling up. Fortunately, she’d remembered to wait for him before she started to try to isolate the product. It was yet another example of Kirsty going ahead against Nick’s instructions but he hadn’t the energy to argue with her, he had too many disputes currently on-going. Perhaps Billie had forgotten to pass on his message but it was pointless trying to find out whether that was the case. His heart sank when Billie again asked to speak to him in private when he had a minute free. Nick fully expected to be given some sort of formal warning, at the very least a verbal one, so he was looking very troubled when they went into one of the small meeting rooms just after 11 a.m.

  ‘Nick, sit down, you look ready to drop, are you feeling OK?’

  ‘Oh, yes, it’s just that I didn’t sleep very well. Polly and I had a bit of an incident in town last night,’ he paused as Billie frowned, wondering what had happened. ‘Someone pushed into Polly and she fell over, I think he was trying to snatch her bag.’ Nick decided this was a reasonable account of what had happened, and he didn’t want to blatantly lie to Billie, he was just slightly economical with the truth.

  ‘God, that’s awful, is Polly OK?’

  ‘Well she’s a bit shaken up, needs some new tights,’ he joked, ‘her knee is a bit bruised. But I’ve reported it to the police, they seem to think there are a lot of CCTV cameras, the incident might have been captured.’

  ‘Well I sincerely hope so, I’ll be careful when I go out in town in that case. Anyway, about what happened yesterday,’ Nick remained silent, dreading what was coming next. ‘I’ve had a think about what you said about Kevin and I’ve taken it further.’

  Nick was amazed he was hearing this, he was expecting a complete carpeting.

  ‘Oh, well that’s good, thank you.’

  ‘I spoke to Brett and he was very concerned that someone has been taking things out through the back door, so to speak. He said he’d get in touch with Stefan to see whether we can tighten up our ordering, make it more of an online process, more easily trackable. He’s going to liaise with finance and I think we may be looking at a full investigation. Kevin needs to be very worried.’

  ‘Excellent,’ said Nick, smiling for the first time that morning.

  ‘But that’s tip-top secret, so keep it under your hat. Don’t have anything to do with him. If you need anything send Kirsty down to the storeroom, and make sure you aren’t alone with him in case he decides to level any other accusations against you.’

  ‘Well that’s a big relief, thanks for believing my side of the story,’ said Nick, sighing and rubbing his head with his hands.

  ‘Now let’s get on with some science. How’s the scale up going?’

  ‘Well it’s in hand, probably Monday for the big reaction, we are just doing a couple of trials, very small scale was done yesterday, today we are going to do it on ten grams then for the biggie next week,’ and Nick crossed fingers on both hands.

  ‘That’s great, good to see you are checking it out cautiously and not just going by what the contract company did. Always best to get a feel for it. Kirsty behaving herself, following all the safety rules is she?’

  ‘Oh, yes, completely,’ lied Nick, hoping that Billie didn’t detect him dissembling.

  Nick knew he would still need to keep a beady eye on Kirsty, she tended to have a reckless streak and for the next couple of days, there was no room for that sort of behaviour.

  Chapter 42

  ‘Come in!’ shouted Brett, looking up from his laptop. ‘Oh, Bob, morning,’ he said, starting to fear that Bob was again on the warpath.

  ‘Morning,’ replied Bob, ‘mind if I sit down for a minute?’

  ‘Of course, can I offer you a coffee?’

  ‘No thanks, I’m a tea man myself,’ replied Bob dourly.

  ‘Oh yes, I forgot, so how can I help you?’

  ‘You can’t,’ said Bob flatly, ‘but I’ve come to apologise, about my behaviour yesterday, I was out of order.’

  Brett wondered if he was asleep and dreaming. Was this the same Bob who’d been so unfriendly for the last six months? If Bob hadn’t declined a coffee with his usual phrase about being a tea man, he would have thought it was his twin brother sitting in front of him.

  ‘Bob, that’s good of you, but really, don’t worry about it. You’ve had an awful time recently, sometimes the stress just gets to us,’ Brett smiled encouragingly at Bob. He was impressed, it wasn’t easy to speak to a colleague like this.

  ‘Right, well best get on,’ said Bob, ‘sorry again,’ and he got up to leave.

  ‘Bye,’ said Brett, perhaps Bob wasn’t such a bad old stick after all then. He chuckled to himself, what an interest
ing week it was turning out to be.

  **

  Giles Wentworth was well into his day at Forteen Bank. It was packed with meetings, they had just hosted a high net worth individual who was interested in lodging a considerable amount of money with their bank. He had been actioned with drawing up an investment portfolio for this client which suited his risk profile. This could be his biggest opportunity since he’d been in his current role. It could also provide a lucrative opportunity in an unofficial way. He had a tight timeline, they needed to get an initial draft of investments drawn up in the next week. The client had made it quite clear that they weren’t the only investment bank he was going to approach. He was driving a hard bargain in terms of the fees he was prepared to pay. Giles’ superior had told him they had some leeway as regards fees as the size of the investment had such potential to grow they would earn an increased commission in subsequent years. Should they secure this client it would be a big marketing opportunity, it may act as a magnet for further wealthy individuals to place their confidence in the company. In short the message was clear, do not mess this up otherwise, you will be looking elsewhere for a position.

  Giles knew that he would be working very late for the next few days to accomplish this task. Somehow whilst working on this assignment he would need to keep on top of his little sideline. He’d done well so far, the money had travelled the world and was safely lodged offshore. Gradually the money would come back to this country and be invested in various businesses and investment vehicles such as venture capital, effectively laundering it and making it respectable. He was going to wait until Monday before triggering another sale of a large tranche of BioQex shares. The money would take a similar route but only a very small amount would remain in Brett’s account this time. He checked his diary, he had about an hour before another meeting, this time with his team to check how the existing work was progressing for current clients.

  There was a knock at his door and after a few seconds his assistant Tamsin put her head around his door and asked to enter his office.

  ‘Tamsin, yes, is it a quick question, I’m really busy today?’

  ‘Sorry Giles, you have a visitor, well two visitors, actually, they’ve just been brought up to me by reception,’ Tamsin was speaking very quietly and seemed agitated.

  ‘Tamsin, make some excuses, there’s nothing in the diary, I can’t see anyone today, I’m snowed under,’ and he looked away from her and started to tap away furiously on his laptop.

  ‘I can’t tell them to go away, they’re not clients,’ continued Tamsin.

  Giles looked up, shrugged and waved his hands at her, ‘think of something,’ he said gruffly.

  ‘They’re from the FCA and will not leave until they’ve spoken to you.’

  Those three initials set all Giles’ nerves and neurons jangling. He was suddenly hyper-vigilant. A horrible cold wave of fear swept through him turning his stomach.

  ‘What? The FCA? What’s this all about?’ Giles was shouting now, then realised that they might well be in earshot just outside the door. His heart was pounding about to break through his chest, fuck, had they been careless, had someone snitched? Had some of those previous dodgy deals caused him to become overconfident? His mind was racing through what might have happened, he needed to warn his partners in crime. Shit, shit and shit he said to himself.

  ‘So, can I show them in?’ said Tamsin patiently.

  ‘Not for a minute, I need to just send this email,’ lied Giles.

  ‘OK, I’ll offer them tea or coffee, say five minutes then?’

  ‘Yes, thanks,’ he said, opening his second drawer to find his unregistered mobile. He needed to get a coded message to Jake Marsfield and Theo Henchard. He was seriously worried that he’d trusted the wrong people.

  **

  PC Martin had been concerned after his interview with Nick Thomas. The sort of intimidation he’d been receiving could be extremely disturbing. After what had happened to him recently he was amazed he was still functioning so well, he could have died after the assault a few months ago. It was understandable that after an incident like that he might have been anxious to point the finger of blame and jump to the wrong conclusion. He contacted the CCTV control room which monitored the cameras covering the centre of Persford. He knew that Bridge Street had two cameras one at each end and the adjoining roads were also covered by the surveillance network, he was hopeful that they might be able to witness the incident. He stayed on the line whilst the operator selected the correct date and navigated to 9 p.m. the previous night. The operator Ricky, whizzed through the footage until people appeared in view.

  ‘Dave, I’ve just spotted that incident you described, hang on, I’m just rewinding and checking the exact moment of the assault.’ Ricky stopped the sequence then went back to when the first figures appeared, there were a couple of men on their own, then a woman jogger sped past and then a couple appeared in view, Nick and his girlfriend. They appeared to be chatting away and then Polly put her hand through Nick’s arm, her handbag was over her shoulder. Sid could see a figure of a man following them about eight paces behind he judged, and the man was looking at his mobile phone, presumably to appear uninterested in Polly and Nick. Suddenly the man ran forward, pushed Polly who fell down to the floor on one knee putting out her hands to save her and simultaneously holding on to her bag. Nick then gave chase, waving his arms before returning a few seconds later to help Polly to her feet. They then noticed the envelope that had been dropped and could be seen opening it, reading the contents and standing transfixed whilst other men and women walked past. Ricky made a note of the time markers for the sequence and saved a copy on the system. Throughout the sequence the assailant’s face was hidden from the camera, all that could be gleaned was that he was a youngish male of tallish stature and average build. The constable’s estimate was that he was about two to three inches taller than Nick so around six feet tall. A description fitting a good percentage of the male population of Persford.

  ‘Dave, the bloke doing the assault is young and taller than the other one, is that correct?’

  ‘Yes, that’s what Mr Thomas said,’ replied PC Martin. ‘Can you send me the footage through?’

  ‘Sure, will do, I just want to follow the sequence down to Bridge Street, OK to hang on the line whilst I do that?’

  ‘Certainly, hopefully, we can see his face at some point,’ replied Dave.

  Ricky then located the next camera at the very end of Bridge Street and picked up the assailant again. Again his identity was hidden, but it was clearly the same guy and he now turned left into Quayside Way, so there was yet another chance to capture him on camera. This was a busier road circumventing the town and pedestrians needed to take care when crossing as there was a considerable amount of traffic even latish in the evening. Whilst waiting at a Pelican crossing the male of interest pushed back his hoodie to get a better view of the lights which must have been taking longer to change than he expected. At that point his face was revealed, ‘Bingo, got him!’ shouted Ricky, ‘got a good picture, sending it through now.’

  ‘Excellent, thanks so much, I’ll look at the images and get back to you if I need anything else,’ said Dave and ended the call. He waited for the images to come through which took less than a minute. PC Martin stared at the full face image of someone who looked familiar. He was sure he recognised the guy, but for the moment he couldn’t place him. He adjusted the frame as well as he could, altering the brightness and focus and pleased that it was slightly improved he sent the image to the printer. He would ask around the station, even show it to CID, it was worth a try, someone was sure to recognise him.

  Chapter 43

  Giles stood to welcome his visitors who introduced themselves.

  ‘Alex Goodwood and my colleague Oliva Frensman,’ said the smartly dressed man of about forty and his younger attractive assistant. The two colleagues from the FCA could see they were dealing with a cool customer, outwardly affable and making sterlin
g attempts to appear unflappable. However they were used to spotting signs of panic however small, slight twitches in the mouth, a throbbing vein, and a general tension through the body.

  ‘Please take a seat,’ and he indicated over towards the side of his office where there was a table and chairs, ‘how can I help you today?’

  ‘We would like to show you some documents detailing some research my organisation has carried out recently. I’m sure once you have looked at them the purpose of our visit will become clearer.’ Olivia took out a collection of papers and fanned them out on the table. The pair sat in silence whilst Giles picked up the first sheet and then placed it back on the table to read noticing that there was a slight tremble in his hand.

  Giles smiled and offered the papers back to his guests deciding that he would speak when spoken to, he wanted to minimise any chances of incriminating himself. This did not look good, this was something he had feared all along, they had caught up with him. It would be impossible to deny that he had made the trades but that in itself wasn’t illegal, the bulk of the guilt lay with the person who had leaked the information about the company, namely Brett. He hoped that he could convince them that the culprit was in fact, an employee of BioQex.

  ‘From our investigations, it is apparent that you acted on information not in the public domain to trade shares to your advantage manipulating the market price. Do you have any comment?’

  ‘I merely placed some trades on the instruction of Brett Chandler,’ replied Giles. ‘As you can see he asked me to open an account with my bank for the proceeds of the money from the sales.’

  ‘Dr Chandler denies that he instructed you to that end and claims that you stole his identity in order to open this account. You also accessed sensitive information on BioQex whilst he stayed at your flat. Since he encountered you his post has gone missing and we have now investigated the Royal Mail redirection service and discovered that the request was set up using a false email which you requested.’