Police Doctor

by Laura MacDonald

  He made no comment, neither agreeing with her nor contradicting her.

  ‘You said it was the police…’

  ‘No,’ he interrupted calmly. ‘Celia assumed that.’

  ‘But then you said you wanted me to go with you.’

  ‘That’s true.’ He nodded.

  ‘You led everyone to believe that you thought I should go because it would be of benefit to me.’

  ‘Again that is what they chose to believe.’ He shrugged.

  ‘So if there’s no police call-out, why did we leave?’ asked Adele in bewilderment. Suddenly all this seemed to be getting beyond her—maybe it was something to do with Edward’s excellent wine that had been served with dinner.

  ‘Because I’d had enough.’ His reply was so terse that for a moment Adele thought she’d misheard him.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘You’d what?’

  ‘I said it was because I’d had enough. I told you dinner parties quite definitely are not my cup of tea.’

  ‘I know you did but…but…don’t you think that was…rude?’ She had been about to say outrageous, so flabbergasted was she by his admission, but she changed her mind after another glance at his scowling, uncompromising profile.

  ‘Why was it rude?’ he demanded.

  ‘Well…Edward…Celia…they went to a lot of trouble and, well, Edward is your friend, your partner…’

  ‘I know that,’ he snapped. ‘And in spite of what you might now believe, I am very fond of both of them and just as a matter of interest I don’t think what I did was rude at all. If I’d done it in the middle of dinner that may have been different. The meal was long over, everyone had finished their coffee. All that would have happened—all that is happening now—is more gossip, probably more brandy for those fortunate enough not to be driving, and yet more gossip.’

  ‘Well, yes, maybe,’ Adele agreed, ‘but I still think…well, I mean what made you think I might have had enough? What gave you the right to decide for me?’ Suddenly she was angry. Angry at what she had perceived as his apparent rudeness, but even more angry that in his arrogance he should have assumed that she was of the same frame of mind as himself and for including her in his scheme.

  ‘Hadn’t you had enough?’ He threw her a cynical, side-long glance. ‘Go on, be honest.’

  ‘Actually, no, I was enjoying my evening if you must know.’

  ‘You seemed more than willing to come with me when I suggested it,’ he replied. ‘In fact, I would say“eager” is the word that springs to mind.’

  ‘That was because I thought we were going to a police call,’ Adele protested.

  ‘So you feel that would have justified us leaving when we did?’ he asked coolly.

  ‘Well, yes, obviously…’ She trailed off, still having to struggle to control her temper. ‘As it is,’ she went on after a moment, ‘you’ve put me in an impossible situation. What will I say if anyone asks me what the police call was about?’

  ‘Who’s likely to ask you that?’ His lip curled slightly and she couldn’t help noticing that his scar stood out more than usual, making him look tougher than ever and somehow even more incongruous in his tuxedo and black tie.

  ‘Well, Edward might…or Jeanette, even Rachel…and…and Toby. Toby is sure to.’

  There was another squeal of tyres as Casey slammed on the brakes then reversed the Land Rover for several yards before swinging it into a sharp left turn.

  ‘Where are we going now?’ asked Adele in alarm.

  ‘The police station,’ snapped Casey. ‘Isn’t that where you want to go?’

  ‘Well, yes, but…if there isn’t anything to go there for…’

  ‘If it’ll make you feel less guilty, we’ll go there and check on the patient I saw earlier this evening.’

  Adele remained silent after that as they hurtled through the night to the police station. She was silent because she couldn’t think what else to say with Casey in this strange, almost belligerent mood. As they drew up sharply on the police forecourt and Casey switched off the engine, she threw him a tentative glance. ‘This patient…’ she began.

  He’d been about to climb out of the Land Rover but he paused and looked over his shoulder at her. ‘What about him?’

  ‘Don’t you think I should know what it’s all about—if I’m to go in with you, I mean…’

  ‘He’d been in a fight—usual stuff. Two gangs clashed and our client got bashed over the head with a baseball bat. He’s suffered slight concussion but not enough for him to be hospitalised. Is that enough?’

  ‘Yes. I suppose so.’ Miserably Adele climbed out of the vehicle, pulling on her black jacket as she did so. She didn’t like Casey being this way with her, so abrupt and offhand, but even more to the point she couldn’t think of any reason why he was. He’d been fine at work that day, easygoing and relaxed, even joking with her about taking solo surgeries the following week. And now he was in a really foul mood which, when she really thought about it, seemed to have started at some point during the dinner party. Maybe someone had said something to upset him or maybe it was quite simply that he really did loathe dinner parties, but whatever it was Adele wished it wasn’t happening.

  She almost had to run to keep up with him as he strode ahead of her into the police station. Alan Munro was behind the desk and he looked up in surprise as they almost erupted into Reception.

  ‘Good grief!’ he said. ‘If that’s not telepathy I don’t know what is. I’ve just phoned for the paramedics.’ Disbelievingly he glanced at the telephone receiver in his hand.

  ‘The concussion?’ said Casey.

  ‘No, he’s fine.’ Alan shook his head. ‘This is a young girl who was brought in with a crowd of youngsters after neighbours complained of a loud party. These kids were out of their minds on booze and there were no adults present. Since they’ve been here this particular girl seems to have taken a turn for the worse.’

  ‘We’d better take a look at her, then,’ said Casey.

  As Alan led them through Reception he glanced back at them both, taking in their attire. ‘Been somewhere special?’ he asked.

  ‘Dinner party,’ Casey muttered.

  ‘Good time?’ asked Alan conversationally.

  ‘Yes.’ Adele quickly intervened, thinking it was probably better that she should answer that particular question. ‘Yes, very good, thanks.’

  They were led into a room where a WPC was supervising two teenage girls. One was curled up on a bunk and the other was vomiting into a bucket.

  ‘Some of the parents have been to collect their off-spring,’ said Alan. ‘But we haven’t even managed to get names out of these two. We suspect they are both minors so we’ve called the social worker. But this is the one we’ve been the most concerned about.’ He indicated the girl on the bunk who had her back to the door and who was partly covered by a grey blanket.

  Casey had stopped briefly beside the girl with her head in the bucket, and it was Adele who crouched beside the bunk and gently lifted back the blanket. ‘Hello,’ she said gently. ‘Can you tell me your name?’

  At first there was no movement from the girl then with a low moan she turned onto her back, flinging one arm above her head, and in the harsh overhead lighting Adele saw her face. It was deathly pale, her eyes circled with kohl, lashes matted with mascara, while her black hair was tangled. She was an absolute mess, but none of this prevented Adele from recognising her from the time she had come into the surgery during the previous week to wait for her mother after missing her school bus.

  ‘Casey.’ Adele looked over her shoulder and as Casey looked up, she said, ‘It’s Jeanette’s daughter, Lara. And yes, she is a minor,’ she added to the police sergeant. ‘She’s only fourteen and her name is Lara Maynard.’

  With a muttered exclamation Casey moved across the cell and crouched down beside her, taking the girl’s wrist as he did so. ‘She’s very dehydrated,’ he said after a moment. Looking across at the other girl, he said, ‘Has Lara been
taking anything other than alcohol?’

  The girl, her damp blonde hair hanging over her face and around her shoulders, looked up.

  ‘We have to know,’ Casey added urgently.

  ‘Ecstasy,’ muttered the girl. ‘Only one,’ she added defiantly.

  ‘And you,’ he said. ‘Have you taken any?’

  ‘Yeah, the same,’ she said, before retching helplessly again into the bucket.

  ‘This is exactly what I suspected,’ said Alan grimly. ‘The ambulance should be here shortly.’

  ‘I’ll get my bag,’ said Casey. ‘I want to put a drip up right away.’

  ‘Shall I get it for you?’ asked Adele.

  ‘No,’ said Casey briefly. ‘I want you to phone Jeanette and tell her what’s happening.’

  Adele’s heart sank. How did you phone a woman, a colleague and friend at that, and tell her that her fourteen-year-old daughter was in police custody and about to be transported to hospital suffering from the effects of drugs and alcohol? But it had to be done. Taking her mobile phone from her pocket, she decided first to try the Fletchers’ and see if Jeanette was still there. Celia answered the phone.

  ‘Celia, it’s Adele. I’m so sorry to bother you but is Jeanette still with you?’

  ‘Yes, she’s here. I’ll fetch her for you.’ Celia paused. ‘Is there anything wrong, Adele?’

  ‘I think I’d better speak to Jeanette,’ she replied.

  ‘Very well. Hold on.’

  A minute later Jeanette came to the phone. ‘Adele?’ she said.

  ‘Jeanette, I’m sorry but there’s no easy way to say this. We’re at the police station. I’m afraid your daughter, Lara, is here—’

  ‘Lara? She can’t be, she’s sleeping over at a friend’s house…’

  ‘It appears there was a complaint about a loud party going on,’ Adele continued. ‘The police were called and several of the youngsters were brought into the station.’

  ‘So are they in trouble?’ demanded Jeanette. She sighed crossly. ‘I’d better come down there.’

  ‘Actually, Jeanette, I think there’s rather more to it than that.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ There was real alarm in Jeanette’s voice now.

  ‘Well, they had all been drinking and…some had been taking drugs.’

  ‘Drugs? Oh, my God! But listen, Lara wouldn’t have taken drugs. She knows all the dangers—I’ve drummed it into her often enough.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Jeanette,’ said Adele gently. ‘But I’m afraid she has. Casey is worried about her—there’s an ambulance on the way…’

  ‘I’ll go straight to A and E,’ said Jeanette. She was suddenly in professional mode—the anguish of parenthood for the time being put aside.

  ‘Have you got anyone to go with you?’ asked Adele.

  ‘Yes, my son Nick is at home. I’ll phone him.’ Jeanette hung up then and Adele made her way back to the cell where she found Casey in the process of setting up an infusion after inserting a cannula in the back of Lara’s hand.

  The other girl, whose name turned out to be Chloe, had stopped retching and was sitting on a chair with her head in her hands, watched by the WPC.

  ‘Are you feeling any better?’ Adele crouched down in front of her.

  ‘No.’ The girl shook her head. ‘I feel terrible.’

  ‘So where were you?’ asked Adele gently.

  ‘We went to a party at the house of a boy from school. My dad thought I was on a sleep-over at Lara’s house—he’s going to kill us.’

  ‘Only if he gets there before Lara’s mother,’ said Casey dryly. Looking up at Adele, he said, ‘Did you get hold of Jeanette?’

  ‘Yes, she was still at the Fletchers’. I told her what was happening. She’s going straight to the hospital.’

  ‘Good idea. Was anyone going with her?’

  ‘Her son, I believe.’ Adele looked down at Lara who now had her eyes closed and was lying very still. ‘How is she?’ she said.

  ‘She’s unconscious.’ Casey shook his head. At that moment there were sounds of activity in the corridor outside the cell and a second later Alan opened the door and admitted the paramedics.

  Lara was immediately given oxygen to assist her breathing and the paramedics took her to the waiting ambulance. Casey went with them while Adele stayed with Chloe, and when the paramedics returned for Chloe, Adele accompanied them out of the police station.

  Casey was in the back of the ambulance, still attending to Lara, checking her pulse, blood pressure and breathing, but once Chloe was settled on the opposite couch to Lara he looked at the attendant paramedic. ‘They’re all yours,’ he said.

  Jumping from the back of the ambulance, he stood alongside Adele and Alan as the WPC climbed into the ambulance and the driver closed the doors.

  A couple of minutes later the ambulance swept out of the police forecourt with its blue light flashing, and the three of them made their way back into the station.

  ‘So that was Dr Maynard’s daughter?’ said Alan. ‘Do you think she’ll be OK?’

  ‘Hard to say at this stage,’ said Casey grimly. ‘Her heartbeat was very erratic. The worrying part is that even those who get through this acute phase can sometimes be left with brain damage.’

  ‘Why do they do it?’ Sadly Alan shook his head then, looking from Casey to Adele, he said, ‘Well, I think that just about winds things up for the time being. Bit of luck, you coming in like that when you did.’

  ‘Yes, quite.’ Casey nodded but he didn’t look at Adele. ‘But now we’re here,’ he added, ‘it won’t do any harm to look at the concussion case again.’

  ‘As you wish.’ Alan nodded and led the way once again back to the cells.

  They left the station a little later after Casey had checked that his concussion patient was indeed all right. In silence they climbed into the Land Rover, and as Casey put his key into the ignition Adele spoke. ‘I felt sorry for Jeanette,’ she said.

  ‘She’s certainly got her hands full with those offspring of hers,’ Casey agreed.

  ‘What happened to her husband?’

  ‘They separated years ago then divorced. I don’t think he’s played much of a part in his children’s upbringing.’

  ‘It can’t be easy, bringing up children in today’s climate,’ said Adele slowly. ‘And it seems to me it doesn’t make much difference whether they are brought up in an environment like the Procters’ or in the supposedly privileged background of a doctor’s home.’

  ‘I’m sure you’re right.’ Casey paused then, drawing out onto the main road, he said, ‘How did Jeanette take it?’

  ‘She was shocked, I think, naturally—after all, she thought her daughter was simply at a sleep-over at a friend’s house. It must have been pretty shattering to hear where she’d ended up. I only hope her son will be more supportive. Didn’t she say he’d dropped out of his college course?’

  ‘Apparently, yes.’ Casey nodded. ‘At least Celia knows we were at the police station,’ he said dryly. After a pause and with a touch of curiosity in his voice he said, ‘What did you think of Celia?’

  Adele considered for a moment. ‘Charming,’ she said at last, ‘very elegant, but, I have to say there was something in the way she greeted me that left me wondering.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ In the darkness of the vehicle’s interior Adele knew he was frowning.

  ‘She looked startled. I almost felt that she thought she recognised me—but it couldn’t have been that because we certainly haven’t met before.’ She paused. ‘Have you known her for long?’

  Casey didn’t reply immediately, instead concentrating on negotiating a traffic roundabout. As the Land Rover gathered sped once more on a straight stretch of road, he said, ‘Celia and I go back a long way.’

  ‘Really?’ Adele was faintly surprised and at the same time intrigued. There must, after all, be a twenty-year age difference between Celia Fletcher and Casey, which surely ruled out any sort of romantic attachment. But on the o
ther hand, with Casey, who knew? With his chequered past anything was possible.

  ‘We worked at the same hospital,’ he said. ‘I was doing my training and Celia was secretary to one of the consultants.’

  ‘Was she married to Edward then?’

  ‘Oh, yes. She had returned to work after her family had grown up.’

  ‘And what about now—does she still work now?’

  Casey shook his head. ‘No, she retired when they moved here to Stourborne Abbas and Edward founded the practice. It’s Celia whom I have to thank for me being here. It was her who suggested to Edward that he contact me as a prospective partner.’ He paused. ‘Celia has a knack for that sort of thing—fitting a person into the right situation.’

  ‘Toby said something like that, too,’ said Adele wryly.

  ‘What do you mean?’ That irritable edge was back in Casey’s tone—the one that had been there earlier when they’d first left the Fletchers’ home.

  ‘Toby wasn’t quite so polite about it as you—he said Celia was too fond of organising other people’s lives.’

  ‘I suppose some might see it that way,’ replied Casey tightly.

  ‘He also said she was very fond of matchmaking. Apparently, once in the past she lined up some dreadful woman for Toby who clung to him like a limpet and who continued to pester him for ages afterwards. I’m afraid it’s made him very wary of Celia’s dinner parties.’

  ‘He didn’t seem to have any such worries tonight.’ Casey spoke in the same clipped tone. ‘He was all over you like a rash.’

  ‘He wasn’t!’ protested Adele.

  ‘Well, it certainly looked that way from where I was sitting,’ muttered Casey, ‘and I’m sure it didn’t go unnoticed by the others either.’

  ‘Oh, heavens! Do you really think so?’ Adele stared at him in dismay. ‘I’ll have to tell Toby he overdid it.’

  There was silence for a moment then slowly Casey said, ‘What do you mean, tell him he overdid it?’

  ‘Well, we arranged it.’ In the darkness Adele turned to look at him. ‘We decided rather than risk Celia having lined anyone up for us we would pretend we were an item.’ In the sudden silence Adele heard Casey sharply draw in his breath. ‘As it happened,’ she went on, ‘we gradually came to the conclusion that she had lined us up for each other anyway…’