The Police Doctor's Discovery

CHAPTER THREE

‘JULIE, there was a plain envelope in my tray last night marked “Personal”—have you any idea who handed it in?’ Rachel had been about to leave on her house calls but she paused at the reception desk.

‘No. Sorry.’ Julie shook her head then turned to Danielle, who was checking and filing patient records. ‘Do you know, Danielle?’

‘It was in the outside mail box,’ Danielle replied, ‘where people leave their repeat prescription requests when we are closed. I particularly noticed it because it was marked personal—that’s why I didn’t open it,’ she added. Her voice had taken on an anxious note and Rachel hastened to reassure her.

‘That’s quite all right,’ she said, ‘I just wondered if any of you saw who handed it in, that’s all.’

‘Didn’t it say who it was from?’ asked Julie with a frown.

‘No.’ Rachel shook her head. ‘It didn’t.’

‘It wasn’t a repeat prescription form, then?’ asked Danielle.

‘No, it was simply a handwritten note—without a signature.’

‘I wish people wouldn’t do that,’ grumbled Julie. ‘They put grubby little scraps of paper in the box asking for more of “that ointment you gave me for my piles”, and not only are we expected to know which ointment they are talking about, we are also expected to know who it’s for. Is that the sort of thing you got, Rachel?’ she added.

‘Something like that, yes.’ Rachel nodded vaguely. For some reason she didn’t want the staff to know that it wasn’t a request for medication she’d received. Neither did she want to have to say that she suspected the note was from Tommy Page. Instead, she turned her attention to the patient records that Danielle passed across the desk.

‘That’s today’s house calls,’ the receptionist said. ‘I should take an umbrella with you if I were you. It’s absolutely chucking it down out there.’

‘Right.’ Rachel peered out of the main entrance and saw that it was indeed raining hard. Picking up her case and opening the main doors, she made a quick dash for her car. Her calls that morning included a new mother and baby who had just been discharged from hospital, an elderly man in the final stages of terminal cancer and a woman suffering from emphysema. All were, of course, patients of Steve O’Malley and only the wife of the elderly man knew who Rachel was and asked after her father. When she had seen the final patient she returned to her car and picked up a further set of records, which she had taken from the files earlier and studied. These belonged to Georgie’s father, Harvey Reynolds, whom Rachel had promised to visit.

The Reynolds family home was tucked away at the end of a long drive—a Tudor-style house set in beautifully tended gardens, which perfectly befitted Harvey’s status as a retired university don. Georgie’s mother had died when Georgie had been in her teens and her father had never remarried, choosing instead to live alone.

After Rachel had parked the car at the front entrance and rung the bell, Georgie herself opened the door. ‘Rachel!’ she cried. ‘You came.’

‘I said I would, didn’t I?’ Rachel smiled.

‘Yes, I know, but...’ Georgie threw an anxious glance over her shoulder. ‘I don’t want him to think I’ve asked you to come specifically.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Rachel briskly. ‘I’ve come for coffee and a chat—surely an old friend can do that?’

‘Bless you,’ murmured Georgie.

‘Who is it, Georgie?’ Harvey appeared in the hallway behind her, a still handsome man even now in his seventies, with thick white hair and striking blue eyes. ‘Why,’ he exclaimed, his face lighting up, ‘it’s Rachel. Georgie said you were back. How lovely to see you again, my dear.’

Together they made their way into a pleasant drawing room that overlooked the garden then Georgie took herself off to the kitchen to make the coffee. They chatted briefly of Rachel’s return to Westhampstead, of her own parents and of her mother’s fragile health, and then carefully, subtly Rachel tried to draw the conversation round to Harvey himself. ‘The garden is still looking good, Harvey,’ she said, standing up and walking to the window.

‘It’s rather bedraggled today with all this rain. Mind you, it’s not before time—we needed it.’

‘Just as long as it knows when to stop,’ Rachel replied with a laugh then casually added, ‘Do you still do the gardening yourself, Harvey?’

‘Not as much as I used to,’ he admitted. ‘I have a man come in these days to give me a hand with the heavy stuff. I’m not as young as I used to be, Rachel.’

‘My father says exactly the same thing,’ said Rachel with a nod. ‘The trouble with him is he doesn’t know when to ease up.’

‘And that’s why you’re here, isn’t it, my dear?’ Harvey’s blue eyes twinkled. ‘To tell me I’m getting past it and that I should be thinking of easing up a bit.’ As Rachel opened her mouth to protest, he lifted one hand to stop her. ‘I’m not stupid, you know,’ he went on. ‘I know it was that girl of mine who asked you to call in to see me.’

‘Do you know something, Harvey?’ said Rachel with a laugh. ‘You have just made things a whole lot easier for me. We can stop pretending now and you can tell me how you really are.’

By the time Georgie returned with the coffee Rachel had established that Harvey was experiencing symptoms that could indicate a heart problem and had arranged for him to attend her surgery for a thorough examination and blood tests.

‘Thanks, Rach,’ Georgie whispered when half an hour later Rachel walked to the front door with her friend. ‘There was no way he was going to come to the centre off his own bat. But...’ Her eyes clouded anxiously. ‘You don’t think it’s anything too serious...?’

‘Let’s not speculate until we know for certain,’ Rachel replied. ‘The tests should tell us more.’ As she finished speaking her mobile phone suddenly went off and she took it out of her pocket. ‘Excuse me,’ she said to Georgie. ‘I need to answer this.’

‘Of course,’ Georgie murmured, and moved discreetly away.

‘Rachel?’ It was Nick. There was no disguising his voice, neither was there any denying the way her heart lurched.

‘Yes.’ She swallowed.

‘You are duty for us today, aren’t you?’

‘Yes,’ she replied, ‘I am.’

‘Good. We need you to certify a death.’

‘Give me the address,’ she said, aware now that Georgie had turned and was watching her.

‘There isn’t an address as such,’ he replied. ‘A body has just been recovered from undergrowth.’

‘Oh, I see. Where do I come to?’

‘The towpath beyond Millar’s Wharf—I’ll meet you. How soon can you be there?’

Rachel glanced at her watch. ‘Fifteen minutes?’ she said.

‘OK. See you then.’ He hung up.

‘That was him, wasn’t it?’ Georgie demanded as Rachel ended the call and turned to her. ‘Nick. Nick Kowalski.’

‘I...How...?’

‘No need to ask me how I knew,’ said Georgie with a grin. ‘It’s written all over your face. You never were very good at hiding anything like that—especially from me.’

* * *

It was still raining when Rachel arrived at Millar’s Wharf and parked her car on a large patch of wasteland alongside several police vehicles. As she switched off her engine and stepped from the car Nick climbed out of an unmarked vehicle and crossed to meet her. He was dressed in dark clothes, the collar of his black bomber jacket turned up against the relentless rain.

‘Don’t you have a coat?’ His tone was faintly incredulous as his gaze travelled over her, taking in the suit she invariably wore for work and her neat shoes—totally unsuitable for scrabbling about in undergrowth on wet towpaths.

‘I was on house calls,’ she replied coolly, thankful that she had remembered the advice of the senior partner in her previous practice who had told her always to be prepared for any eventuality when working with the police. ‘But, yes, I do have other clothing with me.’ Moving to the rear of her car, she unlocked the boot and under Nick’s watchful gaze drew out a green waxed jacket with a hood and a pair of sturdy rubber boots. She pulled on the jacket and set the boots on the ground. Stepping out of one of her shoes, she would have overbalanced in a sudden gust of wind if Nick hadn’t stepped forward and steadied her by taking her arm.

‘Thanks.’ She pulled a face, feeling suddenly foolish and expecting Nick to laugh at her ungainly action, but his face remained deadly serious and Rachel was reminded of exactly why they were there.