Read Online A Killing Moon by Steven Dunne - Free Book Online Page B

‘Then I’d suggest she wanted as few people to know as possible. It doesn’t take a gynaecologist to flag up your condition if you’re missing periods. And any chemist will sell you a pregnancy kit, so self-diagnosis is a simple matter. As for the rest, you’ll have to ask her.’
    Noble was preparing an acerbic response, so Brook jumped in. ‘If you were her only doctor, could she get an abortion without your referral?’
    ‘Oh yes,’ said Stiles. ‘It’s not supposed to happen without one, but things have become very lax these days. A referral clears away the major obstacles – at least within the NHS – but in my experience, it’s not unknown for women with a Catholic background to remove that layer of bureaucracy and meet the higher price of secrecy.’
    ‘You think she may have gone private?’
    ‘It can be an affordable option,’ said Stiles.
    ‘How much?’ asked Noble.
    ‘It depends. Surgical procedure or pill?’
    ‘Surgical,’ said Brook.
    ‘Well, again depending on her circumstances and how far along she was, you can get the basic procedure for between five and seven hundred pounds,’ said Stiles. ‘The earlier the procedure, the cheaper it is, and if you’re prepared to dispense with unnecessary sedation and other incidentals . . .’ He shrugged. ‘Not cheap . . .’
    ‘But not out of reach,’ concluded Brook.
    ‘Exactly,’ said Stiles. ‘Do you know where?’
    ‘The Rutherford Clinic,’ said Noble.
    Stiles nodded. ‘It’s local, very reputable. Like most clinics, they’ll perform a mixture of procedures depending on the stage of a patient’s pregnancy – private and NHS. Rafe Fleming is the top man there – very good in his field. He does a lot of consultancy work at the Royal Derby.’ He splayed his hands to suggest closure.
    ‘Could you check your records to see if a Daniela Cassetti was one of your patients?’ said Noble, holding a photograph in front of the doctor’s face.
    ‘Pretty girl,’ said Stiles again, tapping at the keyboard. Brook and Noble exchanged a fleeting glance. ‘When was she a student?’
    ‘The first two terms of the last academic year,’ said Noble.
    ‘Cassetti,’ Stiles sounded out as he typed. ‘No, not one of mine, I’m afraid.’
    ‘But you have access to her records,’ suggested Brook.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ said Stiles. ‘It’s one thing to bend the rules for my patients; quite another to do it for somebody else’s.’
    ‘But you can tell us who her campus doctor was, at least,’ said Noble.
    ‘Dr Helen Cowell,’ said Miles. ‘But don’t waste your time looking for her office; she no longer works on campus. University practice was far too dull for her. She consults at the Royal as well.’
    ‘One more question, Doctor,’ said Brook. ‘It’s just procedure. Where were you on the night of March twentieth?’
    Stiles stared at Brook, then reached for his diary. ‘I left Derby on the eighteenth to attend a medical conference in Northampton for four nights to learn about new drugs coming on to the market.’
    ‘John . . .’ began Brook when they were walking to the car park through the rain.
    ‘I know,’ said Noble, pulling out his cigarettes. ‘We shouldn’t dish out confidential information unless absolutely necessary.’
    ‘Especially when it might colour the information we get back,’ added Brook.
    ‘Sorry,’ said Noble. ‘But with no leads, I think we need to lob in the odd hand grenade.’
    ‘That’s not your call,’ continued Brook, softening a little.
    ‘Maybe not,’ admitted Noble. ‘But it’s given us an angle.’
    ‘I won’t deny it,’ said Brook. ‘We should have looked into the termination earlier. I assumed that being a student, she’d had the procedure on the NHS.’
    ‘Seven hundred pounds is big money for someone with no income,’ said Noble.
    ‘And unless my eyes are gone, not a sign of it in her financials.’
    The black skies had opened when Kassia turned on to Vernon