“She always seemed to be, but I didn’t know her well enough for her to confide in me. Anyway, how can you tell if someone is really happy? I mean, you read in the papers about people killing themselves when their friends think they’ve got everything to live for, don’t you?”
“Sometimes,” Annie said. “But Jennifer didn’t kill herself.”
“No. I know that. I’m sorry.”
“No need to be. Look, I want to speak to a few people here, people who knew her, but maybe you can give me a bit of background on the place first.”
The phone rang and Carol excused herself. She adopted her professional voice and made a consultation appointment for a new patient.
“Sorry,” she said when she’d hung up. “Of course, I’ll fill you in on what I can.”
“How many people work here?”
“Seven,” said Carol. “That’s including Jennifer. She was administrative director of the center. Then there’s her assistant, Lucy, behind me there in the office. Andrea and Georgina are our two consultation advisers, counselors; then there’s Dr. Alex Lukas, the medical director, and Nurse Louise Griffiths.”
“What’s Julian Harwood’s role?”
“Mr. Harwood? He’s managing director of the whole group. But we never see him. I mean, he doesn’t really have anything to do with the day-to-day running of the center, or with the clinics.”
“Clinics?”
“Yes. We don’t carry out terminations here. If a client decides that’s the route she wants to go, we make an appointment at whichever of our clinics is most convenient for her.”
“I see,” said Annie. “So this center wouldn’t be a magnet for anti-abortion activists?”
“Hardly,” said Carol. “We’ve had one or two small demonstrations, you know, when there’s something’s in the news, but nothing violent. We offer advice on all aspects of family planning, not just abortion.”
“How does the system work?”
Carol sat back in her chair. “Well,” she said, “first they come to me, or phone, and I explain what our services and charges are and give them some pamphlets to read; then I send them to Lucy, who handles the preliminary paperwork. Usually at that point Louise runs a proper pregnancy test, just to make sure. We usually tell them to bring a urine sample with them, but there are facilities here if they forget. Anyway, then they’ll go to the waiting room, where they can read through the brochures until Andrea or Georgina is ready to see them.”
“Then what?”
“It’s up to them, really. Our counselors will ask a few personal questions, and they’ll also answer any questions the client has at that point. You’d be surprised how many are confused by their pregnancies, poor things.”
No, I wouldn’t, thought Annie. She had become pregnant after a rape and while there was no doubt that she was going to have an abortion, she could remember the inner turmoil and the guilt she felt. And Annie thought of herself as a modern, forward-thinking woman. Very few women, if any, approached termination lightly.
“After that they’ll discuss the choices available,” Carol went on, “give guidance and advice if necessary. They’re specially trained. Then the client sees Dr. Lukas, who asks them about their medical history and examines them to confirm the gestation of the pregnancy, then Nurse Griffiths takes a blood sample. There’s more paperwork – consent forms and so on – and the doctor will discuss the different methods available and help you decide on the type of procedure most suitable.”
“What if the client decides against abortion?”
“Then Andrea or Georgina will give her information about adoption agencies and so on. She’ll still see the doctor, though, to determine her general health and so on.”
“Do you offer antenatal care?”
“No. Not here, at any rate. We usually refer.”
“You say Jennifer was the administrative director. What exactly was she responsible for?”
“Everything to do with the running of the place except the medical side. That’s an awful lot of work,” said Carol. “Sometimes she had to work late just to keep up.”
“That reminds me,” said Annie. “Have you ever heard the term ‘late girls’?”
Carol frowned. “ ‘Late girls’? No. Why, what does it mean?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s not familiar to me.”
“Do you remember ever having a client here called Carmen Petri?”
“No.”
“You’re sure.”
“You can ask Lucy to check the records, but I think I would remember a name like that.”
“Probably,” said Annie. “Lucy and Jennifer were close, were they?”
“They worked together. Jennifer was Lucy’s boss, too, so that always puts a bit of wedge between you, doesn’t it? Not that Jennifer was one to play the high and mighty.”
“Who was closest to her?”
Carol thought for a moment, then said, “Georgina, I’d say. They’d talk about the center, some of the clients, and I think they even went out for a drink a couple of times after work if Jennifer didn’t have to stay late.”
“Thanks,” said Annie. “Is Georgina in this morning?”
“Yes, she’s in her office.” Carol picked up her phone. “I don’t think there’s anyone with her right now. Would you like me to let her know you want to see her?”
“That’s all right,” said Annie, who preferred the element of surprise. “You can just show me where her office is.”
Carol’s hand faltered. Clearly this went against standard procedure. “Okay,” she said, putting the phone back. “It’s up the stairs, second door on the right. It’s got her name on it: Georgina Roberts.”
“Did you ever have any trouble with a man called Victor Parsons?” Annie asked. “He’s an ex-boyfriend of Jennifer’s.”
“Oh, him. I remember him all right. Had to get security to throw him out.”
“What was he doing?”
“Making a fuss. Upsetting our clients.”
“About what?”
“He demanded to see Jennifer, but she’d given me instructions not to let him in.”
“What happened?”
“He went away in the end.”
“Did this happen more than once?”
“The first time he went without too much fuss. It was the second time I had to get security.”
Twice, then. “Did he make any threats?”
“Not that I heard. He just said he’d be back.”
“When was this?”
“Couple of weeks ago.”
That recently, Annie thought. Yet Jennifer and Victor had split up over a year ago. Anyone who could maintain a fixation for that long was definitely worth looking at.
“One more thing,” said Annie. “Have you ever seen anyone by the name of Roy Banks here at the center?”
Carol’s face brightened, then reddened a little. “Mr. Banks? Yes, of course. He and Jennifer were… you know, an item. I know she’s a bit young for him but he really is quite tasty. I don’t blame her at all.” Her face fell. “Oh. Poor Mr. Banks. He’ll be just devastated. Does he know?”
“Not yet,” said Annie. “So he came here quite often?”
“Quite. He’d pick Jennifer up after work sometimes and we’d chat if he had to wait.”
“What about?”
“Oh, nothing in particular. Films, the weather, just small talk. And Arsenal. We’re both big Arsenal fans.”
“Was he ever here at the same time as Victor Parsons?”
“No.”
“You know he was an investor in the centers?”
“Yes, he mentioned it once. But he didn’t have any airs or graces.”
“Is that why he came here the first time, when he met Jennifer?”
“Oh, no,” said Carol. “No, he was here as a client. Accompanying a client, I should say.”
Now it was Annie’s turn to feel surprised. “Accompanying a client?”
“Yes,” said Carol. “His daughter. She was pregnant.”
Long before Annie paid her visit to the Berger-Lennox Centre, Banks was plowing his way through the Monday-morning rush-hour traffic on his way to Peterborough. He felt numb after grappling with the demons of fear and loss most of the night, but he also felt apprehensive about what was to come. His parents doted on Roy; something like this could push his father’s heart over the edge. But he had to tell them himself; he couldn’t let the news come from some anonymous copper knocking on the door.