Captive Reaction Page 10
**
Godfrey Clancy was also working on Saturday despite his GP contract not including weekend cover any longer. When he’d first started in general practice, he and his colleagues had a rota to cover out of hours emergencies but all that had changed and patients now had to call either 999 or 111 or the company providing cover to all the GP surgeries in the west of the county. However, Godfrey liked to provide some personal care to some of his more elderly patients. Some were so frail and elderly that he felt it unfair for them to have to cope with such an impersonal service where they would be dealing with people they didn’t know. In order to provide comfort to them, he made regular weekend calls regardless of whether they needed him or not. They were really more like social than medical calls and the lonely, elderly patients were so appreciative. After all, they had no living relatives or children to keep them company.
Despite his vehement protestations they had all insisted in repaying him by giving him generous presents at Christmas and by naming him as a beneficiary in their wills, often as the sole beneficiary. When he told them all the charities he supported, his favourite being for the aged, they knew they were doing the right thing. To make things easier he had drawn up wills himself and they merely had to sign, in the presence of witnesses. Again, to make it easier for them his friend Ron Radford or his wife, or his secretary would call round to act as witnesses. In addition, the Radford family would provide a hamper for these frail patients at Christmas.
Godfrey parked outside Honeysuckle Cottage and rang the bell. It took some time before Mrs Eunice Hetherington came to the door, aided by her walking frame.
‘Doctor, how lovely to see you!’
‘Mrs Hetherington, here, let me help you,’ said Godfrey who took hold of her arm, helping her turn her walking frame around and she shuffled back to the lounge where she collapsed into a chair.
‘So, how are you today, Mrs Hetherington?’
‘Not so good,’ and she closed her eyes for a few moments. ‘The pain in my back is dreadful. My helper, June, could hardly get me out of bed this morning. It seems to be getting worse. And my legs are all swollen, look.’
Eunice’s ankles were a sorry sight. The fluid-filled tissue was spilling over the tops of her slippers, the skin straining due to the pressure below the surface.
‘Yes, they do look a bit worse. But I’ve explained to you, and I don’t want to upset you, but your heart isn’t as strong as it used to be. It’s been beating every day for the last eighty-seven years so it’s getting a bit tired.’
‘I know, I know, I shouldn’t complain. It’s just I’m in so much pain with my back, my legs and I get short of breath. I’m not sure how much longer I can go on like this.’ Eunice’s eyes started to well up and her face became flushed. She fumbled in her cardigan pocket for her tissue and dabbed at her nose and eyes. ‘Sorry, doctor, I’m just feeling a bit down. If you could give me something for the pain that would help.’
‘Certainly my dear, I can do that. Now, I can give you a prescription for some painkillers and June can go and get them.’
‘But June’s not coming this evening, she’s off until Monday so I’m going to get some relief carer. They are usually hopeless. The young girls spend more time on their phones than looking after me. Whoever it is won’t have time to get my prescription. Could you go and get it, doctor?’
‘Well, normally I would but it’s my wife’s birthday today and we are going out this evening so I’m in a big rush. Normally I would but,’ and he looked at his watch, ‘goodness is that the time? I’m running a bit late as it is.’
At this point, Eunice screamed out in agony as a sudden spasm struck her back and travelled up her spine. ‘Oh, no, it’s getting worse. You have to help me!’
Godfrey patted her arm. ‘Well, I shouldn’t really, but I can give you an injection until you get the prescription sorted out. But, you mustn’t mention it to anyone, do you promise?’
‘Yes, yes, of course, I won’t tell the carer. Please, just get on with it. Ahhhh!’ she screamed again.
Godfrey opened his bag and prepared the injection. He rolled up her sleeve and choosing a bruised spot close to where she’d had a recent blood test he injected a full twenty millilitres of painkilling medicine.
‘Thank you, doctor. How long will it take to give me some relief?’
‘Oh, not long. You should be pain-free by the time your carer arrives later this afternoon. Now any problems on Monday make sure that June phones the surgery and I’ll come and see you again.’
‘Yes, thank you, doctor. Can you please let yourself out? I’ll just sit here a while. You know I think it’s starting to work..’ Eunice didn’t finish her sentence, her eyes were closed and her head started to loll forwards.
‘Goodbye Eunice,’ said Godfrey as he picked up his bag and left Honeysuckle Cottage. How did he get involved in this enterprise? On occasions like this he felt disgusted with himself but he had no choice. Twenty years ago he’d made some foolish decisions out of financial necessity and had written some illegal prescriptions for financial gain. By sheer chance one of his customers had been linked to Cole. Once Cole found out he realised he had a hold over Godfrey. It had started in a small way but just as with a gambler who can’t control his habit, it had soon escalated. He would be inextricably linked with Cole until his dying day and that could arrive sooner than he wished if he upset the man at the helm of the ship. He looked at the garden which was looking rather untidy. That would have to be sorted out before it went on the market. Hopefully, Cole could get a couple of his men to give it a quick spruce up. He texted his wife to say he was on his way back from the golf club and would be with her very soon.
Chapter 20
Nick’s alarm woke him at 6.30 a.m. on Monday morning and for a few moments, he had forgotten that this was his first day back at the university on his new contract. Once fully awake he realised what day it was and jumped out of bed and headed to the bathroom to get ready. He was aiming to arrive at about 8 a.m., hopefully getting ahead of the school traffic and peak rush hour. It would be strange going to work with Polly and she was looking forward not to having to get the bus.
Polly used the bathroom after him and Nick went downstairs to eat some cereal and make some coffee for both of them. Their weekend had been both productive and enjoyable. Nick felt more contented and energised than he’d felt for a long time. Now that he had something concrete to focus on he found himself less annoyed or obsessed by his neighbours. There had also been an added bonus on Sunday afternoon when a pickup truck arrived to collect Kylie’s car. Nick had been outside raking up some leaves when it arrived and he lingered rather longer than necessary to see it being unceremoniously winched onto the back of the flat-bed truck.
Nick was quite surprised that the operator of the tow truck had continued as he had received the usual berating from Ryan about being “fucking careful with the fucking car.” An angry exchange ensued whereby Ryan was asked whether he actually wanted it taken to the garage or not. Kylie then intervened and told Ryan to “be fucking quiet.” Nick was almost embarrassed to be overhearing this. He wondered if a single sentence uttered next door was ever expletive-free. Secretly he hoped that the car would be deemed to be unworthy of repair, which was a distinct possibility due to the fact that it was twelve years old. At least he should be able to enjoy a few days unimpeded access to his driveway. Next week was another matter. It was unthinkable that Kylie would be able to manage without a car for very long.
**
Matt Pearson was starting his working week and planned to respond to the interest and enquiries he’d received following his advertisement for private equity or venture capital. He was encouraged by the level of engagement although he realised that only a fraction of those interested parties would end up backing PersCure. The minimum investment was one hundred thousand pounds and this would need to be invested for at a minimum term of five years. Despite these points being flagged at the outset, there were often
some private investors who failed to appreciate that this type of investment was essentially illiquid and high risk. Matt himself was quite confident that UP-627-TK showed enormous promise but his years in research had taught him that there were often surprises in store.
He worked through the list, emailing each a prospectus of the company. The dossier covered everything from the current state of the research, the funding secured to-date, the potential market size, plans for progression and possible exit strategies. The key inducement would be the potential return on the investment. As this was a start-up company there wasn’t any actual income being generated so the investment wouldn’t have a conventional percentage yield of traditional stock market investments or cash on deposit. The real gain would come from a potential buy out of the company or a re-sale to a financial institution which wanted to take on the subsequent management. This could range anywhere from a five-fold return to a fifty-fold return or even higher. If this really was to be a cure for cancer, who could say what the return could be?
There were a few enquiries from established fund houses specialising in venture capital funds. This was very encouraging indeed if established financial institutions were interested. Perhaps he would suggest to Brett that he paid them a visit in person. He would be the better of the two of them to speak to city types. There was also a message from a wealthy individual who seemed extremely keen. For this message, instead of cutting and pasting the standard response, he spent some time composing a bespoke message and even extended to them an invitation to visit Persford University to see the excellent research being carried out. He then forwarded the reply to Brett with a suitably upbeat message that things were looking very positive indeed.
**
Lee Percival had just dropped off to sleep at about 10 a.m. after a tiring evening at the lap dancing club when he was rudely awakened by his mobile phone. He reached lazily down to the floor beside his bed then was suddenly alert and awake when he saw the caller display.
‘Oh, good morning, Mr Radford,’ he said.
‘Am I disturbing your beauty sleep?’ said Cole.
‘No, I was just er, having some breakfast.’
‘Course you were. Anyway, I hope you are awake enough to listen to my instructions.’
‘Always awake when listening to you Mr Radford.’
‘This evening you need to begin Step One of our action plan. OK?’
‘Yes, Step One, consider it done.’
‘I want a message this evening to update me, I don’t want any disappointment, do you understand?’
‘You won’t be disappointed, trust me.’
‘I’ll trust you when I see what you can deliver and not before. Contact me later, remember?’
‘Later, bye, Mr Radford.’
Things were starting to happen now. Lee felt his guts churning and hurriedly got out of bed and rushed into his bathroom.
**
Dan Lythgoe arrived in the chemistry department just a few minutes before Nick who arrived wearing his new security pass bearing his photo.
‘Morning, Dan, good weekend?’
‘Yes, not bad, and you?’
‘Good thanks. I managed to read through the project stuff,’ and Nick pointed to his messenger bag. ‘I’ve jotted down some suggestions, so perhaps we can discuss them when Pat arrives?’
‘Sure, whatever,’ replied Dan who then turned away and started to log on to his laptop. Although he’d said his weekend had been OK he looked dreadful. He had dark rings under his eyes and whilst he was waiting for his laptop to fire up all the programs he was holding his head. Nick went over to his desk which was opposite Dan’s and started to unpack his bag, likewise switching on his laptop and sorting out his paperwork.
Nick looked up as Dan sneezed and said, ‘Bless you!’
Dan blew his nose on some tissues and swore loudly. The tissues were covered in blood and his nose was bleeding badly. He took more tissues and put his head back.
‘Hey, are you OK?’ asked Nick, going around to Dan’s desk and looking closely at his face.
‘No, I’m not OK, you idiot,’ replied Dan, ‘what do you think this is?’ and he thrust the tissues at Nick aggressively.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, it’s just that you should put your head slightly forward and not back when you have a nosebleed. It stops the blood running down the back of your throat. Pinch here and breathe through your mouth,’ and Nick demonstrated.
Dan followed Nick’s instructions and after a minute or so the bleeding had lessened. Nick was by now sitting at his desk getting on with his work and wondering if he had been too hasty in thinking that Dan would be a pleasant co-worker.
‘Nick?’ said Dan, looking over towards him, ‘sorry mate, that was out of order. I was just a bit shocked when all the blood came out of my nose.’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Nick pleasantly. ‘It’s just that I did a First Aid course some years ago and that’s what we were told.’
‘Yes, well, sorry again, I didn’t sleep very well last night. I’m feeling a bit washed out this morning.’
‘Shall I get you a coffee or something?’ asked Nick.
‘No, no, it’s OK, I’ll just go and check my face and wash any blood off,’ and he walked slowly off to the toilets.
Well, thought Nick, that wasn’t such a good start to the week but hopefully, it would improve. Dan was obviously a little short-tempered so it had been a warning. He would watch his step and tread carefully in future. They all needed to get along as they were a small team and an unpleasant working environment could really hamper their progress. He noticed Pat approaching through the office area and he was pleased there hadn’t been any other witnesses to the recent unpleasant exchange.
Chapter 21
Dan’s girlfriend Jessica left their flat just before 7 a.m. whilst Dan was still asleep. She worked in London for a large accountancy firm and each morning commuted by train into the capital. She usually caught the 7.19 a.m. train from Persford which took just over an hour, so she could be at her desk by 9 a.m. She’d met Dan whilst studying chemistry at University College in London and although she found the science interesting, she didn’t really feel cut out for a career in research, unlike Dan who had continued along the path of Ph.D. and postdoctoral research. Thus like many chemists, Jessica had studied for an accountancy qualification and when Dan took up the postdoctoral position in Persford, she too had moved there and taken a job with Henderson and Feelgood Accountants in the town.
Jessica was ambitious and felt constrained in Persford and so was thrilled when she was successful in being accepted by a prestigious firm in London. Fortunately, the salary was generous as her annual season ticket on the train was in excess of four thousand pounds. Their flat was precisely a fourteen-minute walk from the station and so Jessica was left with only five minutes leeway to allow for any delays crossing main roads on her way to the train.
The station was on the outskirts of the town so her route took her through residential streets and past a small green area with benches and a duck pond. There weren’t that many people around at that time in the morning but it was well lit and she felt quite safe. She was thinking about the day ahead and an important departmental meeting when a van pulled up just a few yards in front and a young man in the passenger seat leaned out of the window to speak to her. She was naturally wary but he had a piece of paper in his hand so she assumed he was asking for instructions.
‘Excuse me, love,’ he said, ‘do you know where Staplehurst Road is? Satnav’s been taking us around in circles. Bloody thing’s hopeless!’
‘Er, Staplehurst Road? Er, yes, er no, Staplehurst, no sorry, there’s a Stapleford Avenue I’ve heard of, but that’s about a quarter of a mile the other way.’
She was conscious of the time and didn’t want to miss her train. ‘Sorry, can’t help you, I’ve a train to catch,’ and she put up her hand in a friendly gesture and carried on walking. Distracted by the questions about the directions,
she had failed to notice that the back door of the van had opened and she was confronted by a young man in front and one behind. She was surrounded.
‘What’s going on?’ she tried to scream but they were too fast for her. A hand clamped over her mouth and a knife was held at her throat.
‘Keep quiet or I’ll cut you,’ the thug whispered in her ear. She struggled but had no chance. She was quickly bundled into the back of the van accompanied by one member of the group who brandished the knife in front of her whilst securing her hands and feet with strong cable ties.
The van sped away with Jessica lying in the back of it paralysed with fear. The inside of the van was empty apart from a grubby blanket and what looked like an old cotton pillowcase. There were no tools or signs of it being used for someone’s business. It was obviously quite old as rust patches were spreading from the welded joints on the insides of the panels.
‘I’ve got money, here take my bag! My credit cards are in there, take them!’ She was crying now and pleading. ‘Do you want my phone? Look it’s an iPhone, a good model. You can have it! Please don’t hurt me!’
‘Shut the fuck up!’ the thug shouted at her and moved closer with the knife. Keep quiet and you’ll be OK. We’re just going for a little ride,’ and he laughed. ‘You’ll have the day off work, it will be a change for you!’
Jessica was sobbing by now. Her make-up was smudged and her mascara was running down her face in unattractive streaks. Her auburn hair had come loose from her clip in the struggle and cascaded over her face becoming wet from her tears. What could she do? If they didn’t want money what did they want? She prayed that they wouldn’t rape her. Persford was a relatively low crime area, she’d not heard of incidents like this in the news. Why had she been targetted? This was a nightmare and she had trouble believing that it was actually happening. She felt the van corner suddenly and she slid over to one side banging her head on the metal. She shouted out in pain. Curling into the foetal position her body shook with agonising sobs.