Layers of Deceit, page 18
Chapter 44
The following morning, I had awoken rather fuzzy-headed, and after breakfast, I had gone for a walk by the sea, whilst Craig worked on his latest article for Clare. The rain from the previous evening had cleared, leaving a beautiful September morning. Now that I was free from working at QexChem, I realised I should spend a bit of time managing Craig’s UnravelChem blog, which I had largely neglected for the past week.
I stopped to look over at the beach huts and the sea as I felt it helpful to my recovery to revisit the site of my recent trauma. Each time I felt the horror recede slightly. I lingered a few moments to observe dog owners and their trusty companions enjoying the freedom of the sand, a few hardy pets venturing into the sea, oblivious to the cold water.
My caffeine levels were dropping, so I made my way back home. I had managed about a forty-five-minute walk, approximately two miles, so I was feeling quite pleased with myself. One route back to my house involved a steep hill which I tackled without slowing my pace, reaching the top out of breath. I was just about to unlock my front door, when Nathan pulled up in front of his house, scraping his car tyres against the kerb as he parked.
‘Morning, Nathan!’ I called, wandering back down the driveway.
He didn’t hear me at first, as he was retrieving stuff from behind the driver’s seat. I waited for him to emerge from the interior of his car.
‘Morning!’ I repeated as I stood a few yards away from Nathan on the pavement.
‘Sarah,’ he replied. No greeting or smile. He merely stared back at me, his face set in a stern grimace as if I had no right to stand on the pavement.
‘Oh, I just wondered how Cyril is. We’ve not seen him since Saturday.’
‘He’s been staying inside. I think that’s best, don’t you?’ he replied rather aggressively.
‘Oh, I see. Well, that’s good. Have you discussed going to see the GP again?’
‘Yes, and I got the same response although he got even more annoyed. The thing is, since that fall on Saturday, his memory seems to be getting worse. I wonder whether if I phone the surgery, they might agree to see him, or do a home visit?’
‘Well, it’s worth a try. Although I don’t think you should get your hopes up.’
‘Oh, well, that’s not very encouraging,’ Nathan replied sternly. ‘I’m finding things a bit difficult. Uncle is so ratty with me as well.’
‘Perhaps you can get some advice from social services? It can’t be an uncommon problem.’
‘Yes, good idea. If I could get Uncle to the doctor, he might be able to prescribe some medication to help. There are things which help memory loss, aren’t there?’
‘Yes, er, what’s the name of one? Oh, donepezil, that’s it.’
‘What’s it again?’ said Nathan.
I spelt out the name of the drug, and Nathan repeated it. ‘Do you know anything about vascular dementia?’ Nathan asked. ‘I’ve been looking up his symptoms, and they sort of fit.’
‘Let’s hope it’s not that,’ I replied. ‘Well, don’t forget if you need us anytime, don’t hesitate. I’m happy to pop around and keep an eye on your uncle if you need to go out for a while.’
Nathan nodded curtly, which seemed rude considering my offer.
‘Bye!’ I called as I returned home.
I realised that Nathan was having a tough time, but he had been very unfriendly, and after our help on Saturday, I felt rather annoyed. I also remembered that I had forgotten to tell Nathan about the emergency call system. This morning, Harry had emailed me with the link to the one his grandmother was using. That would be a conversation for another day. I was in no rush to encounter Nathan until he was in a more pleasant mood. I inserted a coffee pod and was waiting for it to drip through when Craig came downstairs.
‘Did you have a nice walk?’ he said. ‘I wished I’d come with you.’
‘Yes, thanks, until I made the mistake of chatting to grumpy drawers next door. Coffee?’ I relayed my encounter and Craig listened with interest. ‘So, how’s your work going?’
‘OK, thanks. I’ve been able to concentrate well for the last couple of hours. Anyway, I’ve been thinking, why don’t we go out for lunch somewhere. I can take a few hours off.’
‘I’m not sure. I feel a bit down. Perhaps we should stay here?’ I went to the fridge and peered inside.
‘OK. It was just an idea,’ said Craig. ‘We can do it another day.’
I looked at Craig and felt a bit guilty. We hadn’t seen much of each other since my stint at QexChem. ‘Can I change my mind? I think it’s a great idea.’
Chapter 45
Our plans to head to a country pub had to change as the police were in attendance at one roundabout, directing traffic straight ahead due to an accident. Thus, we had carried on down the coast to Deal. I hadn’t been there for ages, so didn’t have anywhere in mind for lunch, but we planned to wander through the town and find somewhere which took our fancy. It took a while to find somewhere to park, but as it was mid-week, we managed to get a space near the town and found a small cafe for lunch.
Although we only had sandwiches and a pot of tea, it was so good to be out of the house and in different surroundings. I realised that had I stayed at home, my mind would have been chewing over my time at QexChem, and doubtless triggering a headache. All conversation was of non-work matters, and it was refreshing.
After lunch, we had a walk on the pier, taking care to avoid the anglers. I’d always had a fear of being caught by a fish-hook when they were casting their rods. The sun still had warmth, unimpeded by a cloudless sky.
‘Thanks for suggesting we came out,’ I said. ‘It’s like being on holiday!’
‘I just felt I had been staring at my laptop for so long that I needed a break,’ said Craig. ‘It’s amazing how a couple of hours off can be so, oh, what’s the word? Uplifting?’
We sat for ten minutes on the seafront before wandering back to the car. As we drove back home, I suggested to Craig that we should stop off in Sandwich and have a walk along the river.
I hadn’t been into Sandwich since my lunch with Laura, which hadn’t turned out to be the best experience. At the time, my shock discoveries about David had made me preoccupied, making me irritable with my friend, and accusing her of keeping things from me. So much had happened since then. Laura and I were now on good terms, although, she still had an uphill struggle to get over the way Joe had betrayed her.
‘Goodness, the Quayside is busy today,’ I said to Craig. ‘Oh, I think there’s a space right at the end. On the extended bit of the car park.’
Craig reversed into a space, and we climbed out. ‘I’ll pay for an hour’s parking. That should be enough,’ I said. I returned to the car with the ticket, ‘I realise why it’s so busy. It’s one of the viewing days before the monthly auction. Want to take a look?’
‘We can, although I don’t think I want anything,’ laughed Craig.
‘Let’s have a look to see what rubbish people are trying to offload!’
‘That’s a bit harsh,’ said Craig. ‘One person’s rubbish is another’s treasure or something like that.’
We wandered around the various items: furniture, ceramics, paintings, and miscellanea. There were a few attractive pieces of silver and ornaments, but many of the lots weren’t particularly old. I wasn’t particularly fond of vintage stuff, although there was clearly a market for it nowadays.
‘You see those leather suitcases over there,’ I said. ‘I took loads of those to the tip when I cleared out my parents’ house.’
‘They aren’t in a very good state,’ said Craig. ‘Why would people want those?’
‘I don’t know. I’m a bit annoyed now, as the ones I got rid of were in better condition than those!’
‘Never mind. They might not sell for much.’
‘I’ll just have a look at the paintings then we can go,’ I replied.
I wandered along, glancing at the varied selection. One caught my eye, and I paused in front of it. I took out my reading glasses and peered at the signature.
‘Seen something you fancy?’ asked Craig.
‘Oh, no, I don’t like it much, but I’m sure I’ve seen it before.’
‘Does that matter?’ said Craig.
‘Not really. I only noticed it as it’s quite distinctive.’
‘Perhaps you saw it in a shop in Broadstairs?’ said Craig.
‘I don’t think so. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Right, let’s go for that walk along the river. It’s very stuffy in here.’
‘It’s all the mouldy stuff. I’m sure I can smell mildew,’ said Craig, wrinkling his nose and making a beeline for the door.
**
We had wandered along the River Stour for about fifteen minutes before heading back to the car. By then, the weather had started to turn chilly, and the clouds had built up and were beginning to look threatening. So, we had headed home, both desperate for refreshment and keen to avoid the rush-hour traffic past the Science Park. It had been a lovely relaxing day, and I felt so pleased I’d taken Craig up on his suggestion to head out for a change of scenery.
After our cup of tea, Craig went up to his office to do a couple of hours work, and I spent some time in the garden, deadheading and watering my ornamental pots. I couldn’t hear any sounds from next door, and the patio window appeared closed, so presumably, Cyril was resting indoors. I peeped through the knothole in the fence and felt a bit dismayed to see the garden starting to look neglected. Nathan didn’t have time because of trying to build his business, and Cyril no longer had the stamina or enthusiasm he had once shown. It reminded me of his sudden deterioration, and I felt my mood sink.
I went back inside and after deciding what we could have for dinner, flopped down on the sofa, and picked up my tablet. After checking emails and the news websites, I looked up the online auction catalogue. I scrolled up and down the list looking for the painting which had caught my eye this afternoon. The description said, “Watercolour of Scottish Loch” and was a signed original. I closed my eyes and allowed my mind to mull over the painting. Where had I seen it before? Suddenly my memory sprung into action. I wondered why it had taken me so long and went upstairs to speak to Craig.
‘Oh, hello, is it dinnertime already?’ said Craig.
‘Not quite. Look at this.’ I handed over my tablet and Craig peered at the screen.
‘Yes? It’s a painting. I’m not keen on it, so don’t bother getting it for my birthday.’
‘Ha, ha. Well, it’s the one we looked at this afternoon, and I’ve just realised where I’ve seen it before.’ I angled my head to indicate next door.
Craig looked around. ‘You mean, next door at Cyril’s?’
‘Yes. I’m sure it was hanging in his dining room. I don’t normally go in there, but a while ago I was in his house asking about something. I can’t remember now exactly what it was about, but he went in there to get something for me.’
‘So, Cyril has decided to get rid of some of his things, then? He’s having a clear-out?’
‘Well, that’s what I was wondering. Is Cyril having a clear-out, or has Nathan decided to sell some of Cyril’s things without his uncle’s knowledge?’
Craig started to roll his eyes, then stopped. ‘Oh, Sarah, I don’t know. I know you are worried about Cyril, but we shouldn’t start to assume that Nathan is trying to fleece him.’
‘No, I suppose so. It’s just odd. Don’t you think? I mean, the timing of it?’
‘Well, I guess so, but perhaps Cyril asked Nathan to help him out? Sometimes it takes a change in circumstances to give you an impetus to do things. That’s possible, isn’t it?’
‘It’s just with seeing Cyril’s bank statement the other day, I’ve started to worry about him. He really isn’t with it, mentally. I mean, when I think back, Cyril never mentioned his family at all. I never knew he had a brother.’
‘But isn’t it obvious why that is? Flamboyant Rafe and conventional Cyril. Chalk and cheese. A lot of siblings don’t get on that well. Andy and I have a reasonable relationship, but I don’t think I’d want to go on holiday with him!’
I smiled. ‘Well, it does concern me because I saw another side of Nathan this morning. He was so hostile and bad-tempered.’
‘It can’t be easy for him, though. Living with someone who is losing their memory is so hard. Perhaps you just caught him at a bad time?’
‘I know that, but it still doesn’t give Nathan the right to abuse his position.’
‘How much is the estimate for the painting?’ asked Craig.
‘A hundred and fifty. It’s not a huge amount, but it’s not trivial either.’
‘Well, I don’t suppose there is a lot we can do about it.’
I knew that Craig was right. Perhaps I couldn’t intervene at this moment, but I was aware of the issue, and I would be extra vigilant about what was happening next door.
‘I’m going to look through the other lots, just in case I can spot any other items from next door. Dinner in about an hour?’
‘That’s great. I should have finished this section by then,’ replied Craig turning his attention to his laptop.
Chapter 46
After dinner, despite being slightly apprehensive about Craig’s reaction, I showed him the other auction lots I’d found. I’d noticed a decorative plate with a cut-out rim and a pair of candlesticks. My memory told me I’d seen them in Cyril’s dining room on a sideboard.
‘Well, the only thing you could do would be to think of an excuse to pop round next door,’ said Craig.
‘But I can hardly go nosying in the dining room, can I?’
‘We could go as a pair. Like those distraction burglars!’ joked Craig.
I smiled. ‘That’s a novel idea. We could pretend there’s a problem with the gas supply?’
Craig continued, ‘Seriously, though, I just don’t want you to take on too much and start worrying about Cyril all the time. He’s not a relative. He’s a neighbour.’
‘He saved my life. Not many people do that for someone!’
Craig sighed. ‘I know. I don’t mean to sound heartless, but I don’t know what to suggest.’
‘Well, perhaps, in this case, there’s not a lot we can do. Even if all three items sell at their estimate, it’s only about two hundred and fifty pounds. I’m more worried about what Nathan might try to get from Cyril’s savings. I mean, what if he tries to raise a loan against the house, or alter Cyril’s will? You read all about these cases.’
‘We are starting to get a bit carried away, Sarah. It’s a big leap from a few items put into the auction, which for all we know might be at Cyril’s request, to Nathan stealing his uncle’s life savings!’
As ever Craig was a voice of caution and I had to admit I was getting a bit carried away. We both remained silent for a while, finishing our coffee and looking out into the garden. The light had now faded, so I got up to draw the curtains and switched on a few table lamps.
‘Well, I might have been reading too many tabloids,’ I said. ‘It’s one thing to be vigilant about next door but another to get obsessed with it.’
‘I didn’t say you were obsessed. It’s nice you care about Cyril,’ said Craig, stifling a yawn. ‘Oh, I’m tired. Perhaps I breathed in some microbes in the auction room, and I’m coming down with a horrible illness.’
‘Why don’t you watch TV?’ I suggested. ‘Perhaps there’s a film you would like?’
‘What about you? What do you want to watch?’ replied Craig.
‘I want to look through the stuff from QexChem again. Not the data, the other stuff. It’s on my mind and perhaps having a day off from it all today will help me spot something.’
Katy and I had speculated about various scenarios, but we didn’t have the evidence to fully support any of them. So far, we had isolated pieces of information, but we hadn’t managed to piece it together to give an answer which was plausible and credible.
I laid everything out in different piles on the dining room table, and sorted the data out into separate plastic wallets. The whole affair brought into focus the issue of whether scientific publications could be trusted. I smiled to myself, as I thought back to my time in research and my fruitless attempts to repeat various literature procedures. I remembered an item on the radio about someone who had initiated “The Reproducibility Project,” aimed at examining how much scientific data was actually false or contained inflated claims. I wasn’t looking forward to reporting my findings to QexChem as someone would have to contact the publication to ask them to withdraw the paper. Also, the editorial board would need to issue a clarification.
Next, I brought up Hanson’s published paper on my tablet. At the end, he had acknowledged his supervisor, Dr Abigail Jarvis, along with the analytical department at QexChem. I sighed. It was sad that Hanson’s mind had driven him to embellish something to enhance his promotion prospects when he was performing better than most of his peers.
I went back to the home page of Synthesis Comms and looked at the editorial board. There were various names from UK universities. Some were familiar, but as I had been away from science for at least ten years, there were some new names I didn’t recognise. Next, I looked at the list of reviewers and scanned through the names. One name jumped out of the page at me. Was it significant? Possibly.
I tapped my pen on the stack of folders. My latest discovery showed that by reviewing things, I had noticed something new. Did this mean that I should go through everything again? The photos I’d taken on my first visit with Katy? The detailed notes I’d made whilst at Hanson’s desk? Maybe I should. Maybe the answer to everything was sitting on the table in front of me. Or was I beginning to think I was re-enacting a mystery TV drama?
I was beginning to feel tense. I could feel it in my shoulders, so I went to the kitchen to make myself a gin and tonic. Returning to my tablet, I scrolled through all the photos of the laboratory, but none triggered any new ideas. Next, I read through my summaries from discussions with Hugo Smythe, Martin Latham and Abigail Jarvis. As I read through my notes, I could hear their voices in my head, the intonations, the increase in volume as the individuals became upset. I was back in QexChem, listening to their criticisms about the company and colleagues.
