The Donaldson Case Read Online Free PDF Page A

tea.
    “Have extra
milk and sugar,” Joan told the man.   “You seem to have had a shock.”
    “I have,
rather,” Michael agreed, spooning sugar into his cup with grim
determination.   Joan finally took
the spoon away from him after he’d added a seventh spoonful.  
    “Did you come
over because you saw the police were here?” he asked after a few sips of tea.
    “Not at all,”
Janet replied with forced cheer.   “We found this key, hidden in a piggy bank, and we were hoping you might
know what it’s for.”   She held up
the key.  
    Michael barely
glanced at it.   “I’ve no idea,” he
said.
    “What’s going
on?” Joan asked in a quiet voice.
    Michael
sighed.   “I assume you saw the
police cars,” he said.
    “We did,” Joan
confirmed.
    “They wanted
to ask me a few questions,” Michael said.   “Questions about, well, my work.”
    “Has something
happened at the shop?” Joan asked.
    “When the man
from the head office arrived, the first thing he did was an inventory.   Apparently there is a somewhat large
discrepancy between his inventory and what the shop’s records show should be
there.”
    “And he contacted
the police about it?”   Janet thought
that seemed like an overreaction to what might be a simple accounting error.
    “When it comes
to controlled substances, it’s wise to involve the police at the earliest
possible moment,” Michael told her.
    “Even if someone
just hasn’t been keeping very good records?” Janet asked.
    “It’s more
than just bad record keeping,” Michael told her.   “As chemists, we’re trained to keep very
detailed records, anyway.   Bad
record keeping is almost as much of a crime as stealing drugs.”
    “Really?” Joan
asked.
    Michael
shrugged and shook his head.   “No,
not really, but it is very serious.   The items we dispense are carefully controlled for a reason, or rather
many reasons.   It’s vital that we
always know exactly what we have and what we’re giving to our customers.”
    “I assume
something is missing, rather than there being too much
of something,” Janet said, earning a “hush” look from her sister.
    “Actually,
it’s a bit of both,” Michael said with a frown.
    “That suggests
it really is bad record keeping,” Janet said, ignoring yet another look from
her sister.   “Like maybe someone
isn’t tracking the incomings or the outgoings properly.”
    “Yes, that’s
what worries me,” Michael said with a sigh.
    “I thought
Owen always seemed incredibly professional,” Janet said.   “I can’t imagine he’d make mistakes.”
    “Everyone
makes mistakes now and again,” Michael replied.   “And Owen hasn’t been feeling quite
right in the last few months.   It’s
easier to make mistakes when you aren’t one hundred per cent.”
    “So the police
think Owen is behind the problem?” Joan asked.
    “The police
are investigating,” Michael replied.   “Which means they are looking at Owen, but they are also talking to
everyone who has worked in that shop in the last couple of months.”
    “Which includes
you,” Janet said.
    “Indeed, I’ve
covered for Owen several times due to his poor health,” Michael agreed.
    “But you
aren’t the only one,” Janet said.   “There was some strange little bald man in there one day when I was
there.”
    Michael
chuckled.   “George Hawkins, though
he won’t thank you for describing him that way.”
    “He was
rather, um, different,” Joan said.   “He kept humming and talking to himself the whole time we were there.”
    “George is a
lovely man, but he’s quite eccentric.   He had his own little shop on the outskirts of Derby and his regular
customers loved him.   Unfortunately,
his wife became quite ill and he ended up selling the shop and looking after
her full-time until she passed away.   Now he fills in at various shops around the area when people are ill or
on holiday, although there are a few shops that won’t have him back