#YouToo Page 9

  ‘No, it’s okay, I just came to check on Penny. Make sure she was okay after the shock, that’s all.’

  Antonia didn’t look as though she believed it, but she could hardly challenge Jo in front of Penny, who was rapidly collecting her things together and flinging them into her capacious handbag in prepara- tion for a hasty exit. Jo thought that strategy was probably for the best; there was no question that Antonia Hersham was one scary lady.

  ‘All done,’ Jo said and hurriedly followed Penny out onto the street, leaving the solicitor standing in the reception area, looking after her in slight bemusement. As the door closed behind them, Jo heard the locks being turned, Antonia clearly didn’t want any other unan- nounced visitors walking back in.

  As Penny hurried along the road, Jo had to almost break into a run to catch up.

  ‘Penny!’ she called and the girl stopped and turned. ‘Oh, hadn’t you finished?’

  ‘No, I couldn’t really talk in front of your boss. Look, why don’t we go for a drink?’

  ‘I’ve only got a little time before fat club.’

  Clearly fat club was working because Penny didn’t have an ounce of spare flesh on her.

  ‘I won’t take long today, but if there are any issues I can arrange for further support if you need it.’ Jo felt a little bit bad that she wasn’t really checking on the girl, merely trying to pump her for information, but reasoned that getting her to talk about her ordeal would probably help her in the long run and she could steer Penny towards her own GP if she really felt there was a need.

  They managed to find a table outside the café and ordered tea. ‘No cake,’ Penny said when Jo offered. ‘I’m being weighed later and

  if I haven’t put any on, I’ll qualify to be a gold member, so I don’t want to eat anything in case.’ She crossed her fingers.

  Jo admired the girl’s will power, and at least it stopped her from ordering cake as well.

  ‘Where do you want me to start?’ Penny asked once they had their cups of tea.

  ‘How about with that morning. Arriving at work,’ Jo suggested and Penny began to tell her in excruciating detail everything she had done once she arrived at the office. At this rate they wouldn’t have even got to finding the body before the tea shop closed.

  ‘Who suggested you take the papers to Mr Townsend at his flat?’ Jo finally cut in, in an effort to move things forward a bit faster.

  ‘That was Ms Hersham. She said he was working from home.’ ‘And was that normal?’ Jo asked.

  ‘Well, I don’t know about normal. I’ve only been in the job three weeks and it’s the second time she’s asked me to do that.’

  Jo suspected Townsend Bartlett had a similarly high turnover of staff to Townsend’s old practice.

  ‘And the first time, it was all perfectly as you would expect?’ Penny giggled and Jo smiled. The gossip had been right.

  ‘It was so funny! I knocked on the door and he called for me to come in. Ms Hersham had given me the key in case he was in the bath- room or something, she said, and told me to leave the brief on the table by the window. Anyway, I went in and put the papers on the table and he came out of the bedroom in nothing but a little shorty robe.’ She laughed again. ‘Sorry, I know I shouldn’t laugh seeing as he’s dead, but he looked that ridiculous! He hadn’t even fastened it properly so I could see his, you know, but I didn’t have the nerve to tell him. I just said “Here’s your papers, Mr Townsend” and ran.’

  Jo smiled encouragingly, whilst thinking some very nasty thoughts about Giles Townsend. Thank goodness Penny didn’t seem to realise that his robe falling open was probably entirely intentional. Jo won- dered if it was enough of a thrill for Townsend to flash the girls or if it was only a matter of time before he stepped things up and physically assaulted them. Her money was on him pouncing sooner or later, if he hadn’t been stopped before he had the chance. And what about Anto- nia Hersham? Why was she facilitating his sexual assaults on members of staff? Because that was exactly what she was doing, Jo had no doubt. What was in it for her?

  When she had finished with Penny, and left her with a card so she could call if she wanted to talk anything over with her again, Jo looked at her watch. Perfect timing! She should just be able to pop into M&S and pick up some essential food items, like milk, and take it home before meeting Kate.

  The Stag was a mere five minutes walk from her flat when she was going there. It was the long slow climb back up to her home at the end of the evening that kept Jo fit, toned her calf muscles and made her wonder at what age you could consider yourself old enough to admit to a desire for the flatter terrain of Eastbourne or Bexhill, even if only to yourself.

  For once, Jo was the first to arrive. She bought their usual round of a pint of Spitfire and a glass of Pinot Grigio with ice and settled herself at a table in the garden before Kate arrived. The evening was warm for the time of year and it was late enough for most of the hyper-active children to be safely home in the bath or bed, or parked in front of the television. It wasn’t that Jo didn’t like children; it was just that she saw quite enough of them during her working day.

  The table Jo had chosen was in the shade of a budding lilac tree that they loved to sit under, even later in the spring when it was fully in bloom, although it meant they had to continually pick bits of petal out of their drinks, or rather, Jo did; Kate seemed to accept them as part of the package and drank her beer, complete with flowers and the odd midge.

  Once Kate had joined her, and after checking that there was no one around who could hear their conversation, Jo quietly told Kate about trip to the lab and how Giles Townsend’s gear had been tam- pered with.

  ‘Holy shit!’ Kate could hardly believe it.

  ‘And I spoke to the receptionist who found his body. And yes, she had been sent to his flat before and he was there in a robe that con- veniently fell open, just as I heard he did at the last place he worked.’

  ‘What a creep! I should imagine the list of people happy that he’s dead is quite long.’

  ‘Who would top your list?’ Jo asked.

  ‘Antonia Hersham.’ Kate answered without hesitation. ‘She’s a real piece of work, that one. I can imagine her killing him to get a partner- ship without even batting an eyelid.’

  ‘Anyone else?’

  ‘Anyone he waggled his willy at, I suppose.’

  ‘It seems a bit excessive to kill him for flashing. What I can’t under- stand is: why don’t these women report him?’

  Kate smiled.

  ‘It’s quite possible that some have, but none have actually gone through with it. There are no official records of any complaints, so none can have actually reached the tribunal stage.’

  ‘They don’t keep records of dropped complaints?’

  ‘I’m sure there would be some record, but nothing that can be accessed by the public. I asked around, but everyone was very tight lipped when I said his name, which made me think that there have been problems but they couldn’t say so. I can imagine that Giles would be quick to complain about them if they gave out information, if he were alive to do so, that is. One person even asked if I wanted to make a complaint for myself or a client and seemed surprised when I said no!’

  ‘It makes you wonder why they have all dropped their cases.’ Jo said.

  ‘No prizes for guessing that, I reckon. They were almost certainly paid off,’ Kate shrugged, ‘either by Giles himself or by the practice, and made to sign a non-disclosure agreement, just so they don’t go telling anyone.’

  ‘Leaving other receptionists like Penny to be harassed instead.’ Jo felt affronted that these women had taken the easy way out. Men like Giles needed people to make a stand against them or they would never stop. Until they were stopped, that is.

  Chapter 10

  A gentle drizzle had started. Jo noticed the drips running down the office window with a slight smugness born from knowing that she always had an umbrella in her bag. Just in case. She went back to checking repeat
prescriptions but became aware that Richard was hesitating by the office door.

  ‘Sorry, Richard, did you want me?’

  He ambled apologetically into the room, a piece of paper clutched in his hand, which he held out tentatively to Jo.

  ‘I have a patient’s test results here and I wondered what you thought I should do next.’

  Jo took the piece of paper and saw that the patient’s name was Mr Herring. Swallowing her initial reaction to thrust the paper back at Richard, she took the time to look at the results. It is every health pro- fessional’s great fear that one of their heart-sink patients, who con- stantly think they have a dreadful disease but who always turn out to have nothing wrong with them at all, will one day really have an illness and they will fail to spot it. It is also a well-known rule of medicine that if you do enough tests, you can guarantee one of them will throw up an abnormality, which is why you only do tests that are suggested by the symptoms rather than a more scatter-gun approach of testing for everything. Those doctors who are inexperienced or lack confidence in themselves are often prone to using a scatter-gun approach to diagnosis and it seemed to Jo as though this might have happened with Mr Herring. One of the many tests that Richard had ordered for his patient, and which none of the other doctors would have dreamed of agreeing to, had come up as abnormal.

  ‘He has hypercalcaemia.’ Richard said helpfully as Jo stared at a blood test result that told her just this.

  ‘What symptoms did you say he had?’ she asked.

  ‘Fatigue, nausea and vomiting, forgetfulness, excessive thirst, frequent urination.’ Richard listed. ‘I was thinking diabetes, but his blood sugar was within the normal range.’

  ‘What are the causes of a raised blood calcium level?’ Jo asked him, not so much to test him but to remind herself. ‘I assume you have looked it up?’

  Richard nodded. Of course he had.

  ‘Parathyroid disease, bone cancer, chronic renal failure, sarcoid- osis, hyperthyroidism-’. Richard had clearly had more than just a quick look before coming to see Jo.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ she interrupted before the list got too long. ‘Are any of his other tests abnormal?

  They went through all the many, many tests Richard had ordered for Mr Herring.

  ‘Phosphate, parathyroid.’ Jo ticked them off in her head. ‘Everything normal. Except the calcium level,’ she commented. ‘What’s your next move, do you think?’

  Richard cleared his throat, nervously.

  ‘I was thinking an X-ray of his hands to see if there was any sign of demineralisation and a renal ultra sound to check for nephrocalcino- sis. Is that what you would do?’ he asked her, unsure what she would say.

  ‘I’d suggest running the test again, first.’ Jo replied, managing to dredge something from her distant memory. ‘Plasma calcium levels can sometimes be affected by using a tourniquet when the blood is taken, so you should ask the phlebotomist not to use one this time. We can start the other investigations if it comes back raised again and I think I’d start with timed urine levels. Always start with the cheap and easy tests first and move onto the expensive ones if necessary.’

  Richard nodded. He knew he’d asked for some very expensive tests already, and they’d all come back normal. And he probably hadn’t shown her all of them, Jo thought to herself. She also made a note to self to look up hypercalcaemia in her medical textbooks so that she was at least one step ahead of Richard if it came back raised a second time.

  Before she left to do her thankfully few visits, Jo telephoned Ben Springfield, to let him know that she had visited his mother. It was an awkward conversation with her trying to will him to understand that there was more going on than just his mother’s drinking and de- pression, without actually saying so, but he didn’t seem to understand. Nor did he understand why his mother was refusing to be referred anywhere or that Jo couldn’t force her to go. It was a thoroughly un- satisfactory call and Jo was feeling quite angry, not at Ben, his mother, or even the rules that stopped her from telling him what was going on, but at the world in general. With a sigh, she picked put the next item from her paperwork basket and read it. It was a note telling her that Lucy Cavendish the pathologist had rung and asked her to stop interfering in cases over which she had no jurisdiction. Oh joy.

  Her anger was not so much at what the note said – she had expect- ed Lucy to be unhappy with her for telling Mike about the equipment not having been sent for tests – but more that she had left a message with one of the receptionists. Jo slammed out of her office and went into Linda’s.

  ‘Have you seen this?’ She thrust the note towards the practice man- ager.

  Linda held up a hand to stop Jo before she went into a rant.

  ‘If you’re angry about the message from that useless pathologist woman, I have already spoken with Karen who took the call and ex- plained that you probably had good reason to interfere in the first place.’

  ‘I certainly did!’

  Despite being reassured that Linda had already dealt with the mat- ter Jo wasn’t prepared to let it go so easily.

  ‘She has no right leaving messages like that with members of staff.’ ‘No, she doesn’t and if I had taken the call, I would have told her so.’

  ‘Thank you. At least you know what she’s like.’

  ‘Yes, but she doesn’t know that. Believe me, she was trying to make mischief. You watch yourself Jo. Not everybody knows she’s just lashing out because she’s suddenly realised she’s made a pig’s ear of anoth-er job and doesn’t care who she tries to bring down with her.’

  The note from Lucy and Linda’s words of warning preyed on Jo’s mind throughout her afternoon visits and she decided she had to do some- thing about it or else she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on evening surgery either.

  As she exited the lift into the mortuary subterranean corridor, she was surprised to hear raised voices.

  ‘Have you sent those specimens off?’ She recognised the voice as Mike Parton’s.

  ‘Of course, I have.’ Lucy replied.

  ‘Really?’ Mike wasn’t going to be fobbed off that easily. ‘Only the lab say they haven’t received them.’

  They were standing outside Lucy’s office and as Jo passed a store room door, she could see Jim studiously sorting linen and listening to every word that was being said. Jo cleared her throat and both Mike and Lucy turned to her.

  ‘Oh great. Come to throw your weight around as well?’

  ‘If you mean, have I come to complain about your call to my surgery earlier? Yes,’ Jo said quietly. ‘If you have anything to say to me, kindly say it to me direct and don’t leave messages with my reception- ists.’

  ‘Is that all?’ She turned back to Mike and called out: ‘Jim!’

  Jim appeared from out of the linen room and hurried to the office. ‘Jim, please tell this man,’ she clearly couldn’t bring herself to say Mike’s name, ‘that I have sent off the samples of soil, hair and water from the drowning and therefore, it is the lab who must have lost them if they say they haven’t got them.’

  Jim, ummed and aahed and looked uncomfortable.

  ‘Or is it you?’ Lucy challenged him. ‘Are you trying to make me look incompetent by not sending them off? I’ll have you sacked if that’s the case.’

  It was the first time Jo had ever seen Jim looking angry. He was normally such a happy, smiley person.

  ‘I couldn’t send them, because you didn’t take any samples,’ he said with his few teeth so tightly clenched Jo worried they might crumble. ‘Don’t be stupid, of course I took them. It’s you who are trying to stitch me up.’

  ‘You don’t need someone to stitch you up!’ There was no stopping Jim now. ‘You can fuck things up all on your own. You were so pissed the day you did his PM I’m surprised you were able to stand.’ Jim turned on his heel and walked back to the linen room leaving a stunned silence behind him.

  ‘I’m sure you don’t believe that. It’s more likely it was him who was drunk,’
she laughed nervously, but neither Jo nor Mike commented. An alcohol problem would certainly explain a lot, Jo thought, not least why she seemed to disappear for long periods of time.

  ‘Those specimens need to be taken and sent off today.’ Mike finally said.

  ‘It’s not your job to tell me what I need to do or when,’ Lucy Cavendish replied.

  ‘It is when you are not doing your job in a timely manner and it is affecting my cases.’

  ‘Right, now you’ve both had your say, get the hell out of my depart- ment.’ Lucy turned on her heel and went into her office, slamming the door behind her.

  Mike looked at Jo and raised an eyebrow. She took a deep breath and started walking back towards the lift. Mike followed her and they were joined by Jim, who crept out of the store room, obviously trying not to be heard by Lucy. They all got into the lift unnoticed.

  ‘That’s my job up the swanny then, isn’t it?’

  ‘She won’t complain, she wouldn’t want any attention drawn to the department if she’s drinking on the job,’ Jo reassured him, although he didn’t seem convinced by her argument.

  ‘Can you take and send off those samples in the Cole case without her signing them off, Jim?’ Mike asked.

  ‘You think she still won’t do it?’ Jo asked, but the look on Jim’s face told her that he wouldn’t discount that.

  ‘I can’t believe she would not do it after this.’ Jo was furious. All her good work getting Miller to agree to pay for the extra tests and she hadn’t even taken them, let alone sent them off.

  ‘She’ll be consoling herself with a drink now. She keeps a bottle in her desk, so God knows,’ Jim admitted.

  ‘If you take the samples,’ Mike said to Jim, who was looking more than a bit worried. ‘I’ll take responsibility and let the lab know why it hasn’t been signed off properly.’

  Jim blew his cheeks out. ‘Buggers up the chain of evidence.’

  ‘I know. But you can initial them for her.’ ‘She’ll not like it.’