Implant (DI Gardener 3)

Gardener heard a door open and close in the hall they had recently been standing in. The solicitor’s door then creaked, and a woman jumped and screeched when she saw them both standing there.

“Oh my word, you gave me such a fright.” She held her hand to her chest as if to prove the point.

She was very frumpily dressed in a brown skirt and tweed jacket, with a white blouse and a square-shaped hat on her head. Her face was long and angular, and she had grey hair and a deep voice. He saw no wedding ring. Gardener guessed her age around, or possibly past, retirement.

“I’m very sorry, but we’re not open yet.” She then went off on a tangent. “I don’t know what Mr Ronson will think. I had a few days off last week. We had a temp in. I thought I’d come in early and catch up. Never realized I’d have the whole place to clean. What on earth do these temps do all day?” Her head was constantly bobbing up and down. “Not a great deal by the looks of things. Still

, it’s not as if he’s actually starting work today.”

Gardener flashed his warrant card and made the introductions. “It’s Mr Ronson we came to see.”

“Oh dear, he’s still on holiday, I’m afraid. Won’t be back to work until next Monday.”

“We know that, but we also know that officially he’s due back today. How long has he been away, Miss...”

“A month now. It’s Miss White. The doctor said it would be good for him. He’s been working too hard, you see. That’s Mr Ronson for you. I tried to tell him all those hours are no good for you.”

Gardener could see they were going to have a hard time with the secretary. She seemed nice enough, but she was the type that always answered questions with her own opinions, and she had plenty of them. He wondered if she knew anything about the solicitor’s drink problem.

“We’re investigating a double murder, Miss White. Can you tell us where he’s been and how long he’s been there?”

“A double murder! Oh my word, you people have to look at some awful things. I don’t know how you do it, really, I don’t. He’s been recuperating in Madeira.”

“But he is due back today?”

“Yes, he is.”

She moved around the room, having removed her hat and coat and hung them on a peg behind the office door. She made her way over to the other side of the office and started making tea.

“Would you gentleman like one? I always think you should start the day with a cup of tea. Never did my father any harm, and he lived till he was ninety-five.”

“We could be in for a long wait, boss,” said Reilly.

“I was beginning to think that. But at least she’s not being evasive.”

When the secretary had finished making her drink and was sitting comfortably behind her desk, he addressed her again. “Can you tell us anything about his surgery, Miss White?”

She put her hands to her chest. “That was an awful business. I came in one morning, about three months ago, and found Mr Ronson slumped over his desk, right there.” She pointed at the desk opposite hers. “I called an ambulance immediately. He’d had a heart attack. They kept him in the hospital for weeks, checking him out, doing their tests.”

“And what was the outcome?” Reilly asked.

She took a sip of tea and clasped her hands around the cup. Gardener wondered why. It wasn’t cold out.

“He had something fitted, but I’m not sure what. I certainly don’t think it was a pacemaker, because I remember them saying his heart was good, had a steady rhythm.”

Gardener’s own heart sank. He didn’t like what he was hearing. Instead of Ronson being involved, he could be another victim. The SIO was convinced that something big had gone down somewhere, involving all these people. He was determined to figure out what it was.

“Do you have any details of his surgery? Where it was done, doctor’s name?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know the doctor, officer, but I know he had his operation at St. James’s Hospital here in Leeds.”

Not again, thought Gardener. Odd how that name seemed to be cropping up a lot.

“When was that?” asked Reilly.

“Let me see…” She placed one hand on her head and started rubbing it, as if that would help. “I found him at the beginning of June. I think he had his operation at the end of the month, and then spent some time in there afterwards. He then went on holiday when he got out, and he’s due back today. I’ve spoken to him a number of times and he sounds like he’s doing really well.”

“Can you tell us where and when he’s due to land, and where he’s going from there?”