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Detective Sergeant Andy Walters’ day was drawing to a close. That afternoon he’d had a call from the IT specialist responsible for the county’s libraries. He’d been too busy to look into the searches this week due to some crisis with a server and meetings regarding funding but he was hoping that by the end of Monday he would have an idea whether anyone in the library had been accessing sites concerned with the synthesis of street drugs. So things were moving ahead albeit slowly. Wayne Roberts had been behaving himself recently but one of the force’s informants had said he’d had word that some guys from a drug cartel from a neighbouring county had been spotted in Persford. It had come through a rather protracted chain of people but it seemed that word on the street was that PCP would soon be readily available in the town. This gave credence to the fact that there was probably a factory either in Persford or close by. The informant had been told to contact his circle of friends and let it be known that any solid pieces of evidence could lead to some leniency in the police’s treatment of them if it meant they could make arrests further up the chain and nab the major players. He said goodbye to his colleagues and headed off to enjoy two days with his family. He would be back in on Monday bright and early eagerly awaiting a call from the IT specialist.
**
Nick was looking very down in the mouth when Polly arrived to visit him at 7 p.m. in the evening. He’d not had his MRI as there had been some emergencies but he’d been told it would definitely be done on Saturday morning, then if all was OK he would be home by the evening.
‘Cheer up Nick,’ pleaded Polly, ‘you’ve only been in here two full days, I know it seems longer, but it’s better that they check you out.’
‘Hmmm,’ replied Nick remaining unconvinced at Polly’s argument, ‘I don’t suppose the police have been in touch?’
‘No nothing and I would have told you. Anyway, at least you now have your new phone. I had to sign for it at the post office, the SIM arrived separately yesterday. So when I’ve gone you can set it all up, I’ve brought the charger with me.’
‘Thanks, it will be good to feel I’m in touch with people again.’
Nick wondered if he would be able to text Mark when Polly had left but he might be working and unable to reply to him. He just wanted to get the scan over with and he prayed they would find no reason to keep him in here any longer.
‘I’ll put it all over here for you,’ said Polly.
‘Thanks. So what was the news at work for you?’ he asked Polly, trying to be a bit more cheerful. She looked exhausted, he mustn’t be miserable in front of her, she’d had such a difficult few days as well.
Polly started to relate some news from her work and the best wishes from the neighbours but Nick was only half listening. His mind was focussed on contacting his friend and confidant Mark.
**
At the Hurlingham Club, the wine was flowing and the volume of chatter was increasing. It was a good turnout, Brett estimated around three hundred people were in attendance. He was seated at a round table for eight. He didn’t remember anyone at his table from his university days but fortunately, the organisers had exercised a bit of sense in the seating plan and his fellow diners were of a similar age to him, so he wasn’t stuck with some old fogies who had been at university in the 1940s. The girl next to him, Samantha looked stunning, she was wearing a low cut dress, close fitting on the hips but sadly she was sporting a large diamond engagement ring and spent a lot of time talking about her fiancée who was something big in information technology. She was making him sound like the next Steve Jobs. Brett had noticed Giles Wentworth at the pre-dinner reception who appeared to be even more confident than he’d remembered from their previous encounters. However as soon as Brett mentioned his current role as CSO at BioQex, Giles lost some of his brashness and started to show genuine interest. Brett was able to expand on how well his company was doing, making sure he kept to information which had been in the press. They discovered they weren’t on the same table so Giles said they must continue the conversation after the meal.
Brett had been drinking steadily but pacing himself. He could no longer consume the volumes he had in the past, those days were over. His slightly inebriated state helped get him through a couple of tedious speeches by the person who’d organised the dinner and some faculty head who was officiating. At about 10 p.m. the meal was finished and the catering staff moved in to clear the tables. Some people remained at the tables, moving their chairs into more convivial arrangements and others made their way over to the bar area. Brett felt he’d exhausted his conversation topics with his fellow diners so excused himself and wandered over to the bar to buy himself a whisky as a nightcap. He had about forty-five minutes left here and then he needed to be on his way to ensure he made the last train to Persford. He was just sipping his whisky and leaning on the bar when he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turned round to see Giles Wentworth beaming away at him.
‘Hi, again,’ said Giles, ‘did you enjoy the dinner?’
‘Oh, yes, the food was excellent,’ replied Brett, ‘and you?’
‘Yes, been here a couple of times and the catering is first class, now can I get you a top up? Whisky is it?’
‘No thanks, it’s kind of you but I’ve got to get my train back, I’ll be leaving in about thirty minutes.’
‘Not staying over in town then?’
‘Not this time, I’ll get back, which reminds me, excuse me I just need to check my train’s still running.’
Brett took out his iPhone, brought up the National Rail site and cursed.
‘Fuck, I don’t believe it, my train’s been cancelled!’ He went back to the information banner and it told him that due to a person being hit by a train there would be no further service until tomorrow morning. Brett couldn’t believe it, how unfortunate was that, he was such a rare visitor to London these days. ‘I’ll have to get a hotel, it will need to be one with an all-night reception.’
‘No need for that old chap,’ offered Giles, ‘you can crash at my place, it’ll only be the sofa I’m afraid, can’t afford a two-bed place, property has just gone through the roof. Oh pardon the pun!’ and he laughed uproariously. It was clear that Giles hadn’t been holding back on his drinks.
‘No really, that’s too much of an imposition, I’ll just google hotels around here,’ replied Brett. Having only encountered Giles today after a break of over ten years he wasn’t sure he wanted to be stuck with him until tomorrow morning.
‘Nonsense, I insist, besides it will cost you an arm and a leg tonight in London, it’s Friday remember. I just live up the road in Fulham, we could even walk. However, on second thoughts, I’ll probably end up in the river. No, we’ll get a cab and be there in about five minutes. We can have another nightcap at home and a proper chat in private. Come on, I’ll get you another whisky and one for myself. Bartender, over here!’ he shouted.
Oh Christ, said Brett to himself. He wondered what he’d got himself into. Giles was so insistent it would have seemed very rude to walk away and he didn’t want any nasty comments on Facebook. Well at least it would save him the cost of a room and he would get an early train back to Persford in the morning, making the excuse that he had something arranged.
‘Drink up, then,’ said Giles, knocking his whisky back. ‘Right, let’s see if we can escape from here and find a taxi.’
Brett picked up his bag and followed Giles out into the night. He had enjoyed the evening up until now but he felt that the evening might be on a downward trajectory from now on.
**
Nick was trying to sleep, but it was so noisy in the ward he was having trouble dropping off. He’d tried phoning Mark after Polly had left but there was no reply. He’d texted him as well but so far there’d been no response, perhaps tomorrow they would be able to make contact. He had to try to keep calm. Next week he would have the evidence he needed. He tried some counting exercises to see whether they could usher in sleep. Counting back from a thousand was his usual trick. It took longer than usual but eventually, Nick’s defences gave way and he fell into a dreamless slumber.
**
Over in Fulham Giles was drinking his way through a bottle of whisky. Brett thought he himself had demonstrated a talent for alcohol consumption in the past but this guy was something else. It didn’t seem to be having much effect on him, Brett had refused several top-ups and was hoping this wouldn’t go on too long, Giles’ voice was beginning to send him to sleep.
‘So Brett, do you think your company will have enough money for the next couple of years then?’ asked Giles assuming the role of interviewer.
‘Well there are no guarantees as I’m sure you realise, but we are reasonably financially sound at the moment.’
‘So, any good compounds coming along then?’
‘Come on Giles, you know I can’t tell you anything that’s not in the public domain, nice try.’
‘Oh, sorry, it’s just that I’ve read about your company and it seems so exciting, you’ve done a great job building it up.’
‘Well I’ve done my best,’ said Brett, wondering how much credit he could take bearing in mind he had only been there a few weeks.
‘What therapeutic areas do you think you might move into next?’ Giles persisted, unrelenting.
Brett wasn’t going to fall for that one, it was obvious what Giles was up to, he wanted to find out what the prospects were for the company, presumably so he could invest before an announcement. Nice try Giles he said again, this time to himself.
‘I’m sorry Giles but I’m so tired, I just want to crash now, do you mind?’
‘Not at all, sorry I’ve been going on a bit. Hang on I’ll get you a pillow and a spare duvet and cover, and he trotted off to the airing cupboard in the hall.
‘Cheers Giles, I’ll just sort that out and then I’ll call it a night. Can I get a glass of water please?’
‘Sure, help yourself, there’s clean glasses on the side.’
‘Say, Brett, would you like a shower before bed? It was so hot in the Hurlingham Club. I can lend you a T-shirt and some shorts if you like, as you’ve not got any stuff with you?’
‘Well that would be great, I do feel a bit sticky now you mention it. Sure you don’t mind?’
‘Help yourself, bathroom’s first door on the left, there are clean towels in the cupboard in the bathroom.’
‘Great, won’t be a minute,’ replied Brett.
‘No rush, take your time,’ added Giles.
Once he heard the door lock in the bathroom he hurried down the hallway to where Brett had kicked off his shoes and left his briefcase. He had quick look through and saw that there were some work papers inside. He took a couple of the most interesting ones out and hid them under his duvet in his bedroom. He would read them tonight and return them before Brett noticed they’d gone. They looked extremely interesting, the outline for an up and coming press release on first inspection and a summary on a particular entity. What an opportune meeting this has turned into, he thought, smiling to himself.
