A Servant of the Company (6 page)

He didn’t think fifteen minutes could last so long as he stood guarding his charge. Then the Military Police vehicle pulled up beside him, the occupants quickly getting out of the vehicle. One checked Steve’s breathing while his colleague spoke to the Policeman and made a few new notes. That completed, they lifted the limp body into the truck and drove off in the direction of the barracks.

The Medical Officer was having an early night with his wife in their Married Quarters when the phone rang. His wife answered it in her usual efficient way.

‘Yes, he is here.’ There was a pause as the caller gave her some information. ‘Right, I will tell him and he will be there in a few minutes. You are sure it’s drugs, not the result of too much alcohol.’ Since her marriage to an Army Doctor, she had taken many calls during his off duty periods to attend soldiers with too much alcohol in their system. ‘Thank you Sergeant, I’ll let him know.’

‘Darling, you are wanted at the sick bay, some Corporal has been at the naughty stuff and I have told them you will be there a.s.a.p.’ She hoped he wouldn’t be long. They had both looked forward to this early night when sleeping would not be on the immediate agenda.

‘Who would be an Army Doc.? Sorry darling, it shouldn’t take long, but you can’t be too careful with this sort of thing.’ He eased himself out of bed, dressed quickly and gently kissed his wife before leaving. ‘Keep the bed warm, and don’t be asleep when I get back, we have some unfinished business.’ He ducked as his wife playfully threw a pillow at him.

The drive to the sick quarters took only a few minutes and he knew that his visit was just to satisfy procedures. Sgt. Davis the duty N.C.O. would have the case neatly wrapped up he was sure and as the Medical Officer, all he would have to do was check the actions taken by the staff, add a signature and then head back to bed.

‘Evening Sir, sorry to call you out but this might be a bit more serious than the Saturday night hangover.’ Sergeant Davis had been in the Medical Corps for twelve years and could recognise most ailments that the sick parades delivered. This one was different, and his experience diagnosed a drug overdose, but that was for the Doc to make a final decision. ‘I’ve taken his pulse and temperature, got a blood sample but as you can see, he’s incapable of giving a urine sample. His pupils are well and truly dilated. I can only see trouble ahead for him.’ He passed a partly completed form to the Doctor and waited for his comments.

‘Well done Sergeant, you’ve done all that can be done so far, I don’t think a stomach pump is necessary on this occasion. Make sure that he is checked on a regular basis, the duty nurse is on station and there are only another two inpatients right now, so that should take care of it. Would you send the blood sample to the Royal for testing, I’ll do a note to be enclosed. Once you get a urine sample, the same procedure.’ He didn’t have to tell the Sergeant what to do, he had already taken charge of the situation and acted upon it. It was just the final decision that was required from his Senior Officer. He quickly scribbled a note for the technicians at the Royal Infirmary and passed it to the Sergeant.

‘Thanks a lot Sir. We’ll keep an eye on him. I don’t think you will be bothered again tonight.’ He liked his boss, and they had built up a mutual respect for each other’s specialist skills.

Steven was oblivious of all that was happening around him and when he finally awoke, totally confused by his surroundings. He gradually brought things into focus and started to sit up in bed. ‘Where the fu..,’ the word stuck in his throat as he collapsed back on to the pillows.

The duty nurse had been keeping her eye on her new charge, and moved quickly when he started to move. ‘I would stay still for a while Corporal until the effects wear off a bit.’ She already knew what the diagnosis had been and did not feel well disposed towards druggies, but she was a professional and treated her patient like any other. She lifted his head slightly and adjusted the pillows. ‘There that should be better. Is there anything I can get you?’ It was almost 8 a.m. and she would soon be off duty so the most she would be able to do would be to give him a glass of water.

Steve shook his head. Still in a daze, all he wanted was to know how he got here. He remembered waiting for Anthea to celebrate the end of their exams and then, and then, nothing. His mind was a complete blank. He had once visited one of his platoon in sick quarters, and recognition of his surroundings soon penetrated the haze. ‘What am I doing here?’ The nurse seemed to be a long way off, but he could touch her arm, things didn’t seem at all normal to him. As he hadn’t received a reply, he called out.

‘Are you there, what am I doing here?’ He put his hand out and touched her arm, gripping it to make sure she wouldn’t leave.

‘I’m here Corporal, you collapsed in town and were brought here. I don’t think it’s anything serious, so just relax and try to sleep, it’s still quite early.’ She didn’t mention that the other two patients had both showered and had breakfast, the hospital routine had been maintained. With the exception of Steve. Had she dealt with him in the same way, she would have had to obtain a urine sample. It was now 8.00 a.m. and was someone else’s responsibility. She heard the clip clop of shoes and turning saw the next duty shift reporting. The handover was straight forward and she was soon heading off for breakfast, then a shower and bed for the rest of the morning.

Corporal Scouser Jennings had checked back into the barracks at midnight, very satisfied with the evening’s results, but his pleasure was not finished yet.

‘Anything exciting tonight Briggsy.’ His friend Corporal Briggs was Guard Commander until 8.00a.m. and Scouser could rely on him for any gossip. He wanted to hear about any movements into the barracks concerning a certain Corporal under the influence of drugs without having to ask direct questions, and imagine the worst possible scenario ever.

‘It’s bleeding amazing, that nerd Henderson, the bloke who never drinks was brought in tonight full of bloody drugs. I reckon he’s in for the chop. Can’t see him getting away with this even with all those exams he keeps taking. At least there’s some justice in this world.’ His laugh echoed across the parade ground. ‘He’s been carted off to the sick bay, totally out of it.’

‘No kidding, bloody Henderson of all people. You just never know what some buggers are up to. Well it serves him bloody well right, I’ve no respect for anyone getting mixed up in drugs. I wouldn’t even wave him goodbye. Enjoy the rest of the night mate, I’m off to my pit. See ya.’ Jennings walked off towards the block rubbing his hands together and chuckling to himself. Life could not get any better. Walking past his own barrack block he entered the next. He knew Henderson’s room, all he had to do was find the right key from the bunch he had been given. The first one he tried fitted. Entering, he quietly closed the door behind him. Drawing the curtains, it now felt safe to put on the light. Although he hadn’t seen anyone about, this visit had to remain unnoticed. The room was tidy with belongings both military and civilian stored carefully. He opened a locker and on a shelf spotted just what he was looking for. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he used it to lift the small box on to the bed. Opening the lid, he took some white tablets from his pocket dropping them into the box before returning it to the shelf. Wiping the door surface where he had touched it, he then switched off the light. Opening the curtains carefully, he checked that the area outside was clear before heading back towards the door. Once again he wiped any area that he might have touched. No-one would ever know that he had been there at all. There was one more thing to do, and that was a job for early morning. ‘Now for a good night’s sleep.’ He laughed as he thought that his sleep would not be as sound as Henderson’s, but would be much more enjoyable.

At 6 a.m. he was up, dressed in a track suit and ready for a two mile run before breakfast, but this time he would take a different route from his usual one. Picking up Henderson’s keys he headed for the sick quarters. When he got to the entrance he stopped, bent down as though picking something up, and looked around as though searching for the person who might have dropped it. Entering the building and seeing a duty nurse he called out, ‘Has anyone lost any keys? They were on the ground outside, could be one of the staff or a visitor, maybe dropping them in the dark.’ He wanted to plant ideas in the young girl’s head, and with luck the keys would be traced to Henderson. “Have you had any comings and goings?’

‘The M.P.s brought someone in last night, apart from that it’s just the duty crews going off and coming on. Thanks anyway for bringing them in.’

‘You’re probably right, it’s either your lot or the M.P.s.’ The idea was planted. He didn’t give his name, turned to the door and with a wave was gone. The girl would not remember him, the keys were now on her mind, and she would find the owner. He knew the type, honest as the day is long, and full of self righteousness.

As Steve stood before his Commanding Officer, the evidence against him was damning. Had there not been drugs found in his room, the charge might never have been brought. Other soldiers had been found in similar circumstances but had their not guilty plea accepted because the drug had been administered without their knowledge. In his case there were three factors against him. The drug tests on him were positive, drugs had been found in his room and finally, there was a witness. Another N.C.O., Corporal Jennings had seen him passing money to two girls in a pub and watched as tablets changed hands. When Jennings was asked why he had not reported it that evening, he had said that he did not want to believe what he had witnessed. Only when Corporal Henderson had been charged had he realised the truth, and then thought of the honour of the Regiment, and the effect a drug taking N.C.O. could have on the soldiers in his platoon. The evidence was the final nail in the coffin in which Steve’s military career would be buried. He could not prove that the evidence against him was false, but continued to deny any involvement with drugs. The verdict could not have gone any other way. He felt sick and totally helpless. It must be a bad dream, but he knew it wasn’t. The career he loved, the future he had planned and most importantly, his mother’s trust in him were all being totally destroyed, and there was nothing he could do about it. He could not remember ever feeling such pain.

Jennings was ecstatic as he left the building, hiding his pleasure under a troubled frown. It would not do to gloat over his rival’s downfall. Henderson had been too bloody popular with the Officers and Senior N.C.O.s, a real Mr. Goody Goody.

As far as the authorities were concerned, there was no possibility of anyone having entered his room because Henderson’s were the only fingerprints to be found, and his keys were in safe custody in the sick quarters. The only punishment that could be administered was Dismissal. His Army career had come to an end and Scouser was delighted.

The Golf Club was particularly busy and the buzz of conversation in the bar increased as a more people arrived. He recognised one of the group and gave him a wave. Bernard Sturrock crossed the floor to meet him half way. ‘Good to see you again. Haven’t seen you for ages. Keeping busy?’ He released his grip from the firm handshake. ‘Come over and join us and give me your news.’ Introductions were made and the conversation resumed where it had left off. A young man on leave from the Army was telling the story about a Corporal who had been charged with drug offences and had to leave the Army. He seemed very upset by the whole thing as the Corporal was apparently well regarded and potential officer material.

‘I’m certain he was set up by someone, impossible to prove it but knowing the calibre of the man, this was totally out of character. He had so much going for him.’

This certainly was interesting stuff, with the right questions at the right time he would be able to find out much more. And who knows, possibly another recruit.

‘What happened to him when he left, I think it would be very difficult to get a job with that sort of thing hanging over him.’ ‘Information, information. Please give me information,’ he silently urged his companion.

‘He met a girl while he was doing an Open University Degree course, and I believe she has given him a room. I don’t think it’s a serious relationship but apparently she was there when he needed someone.’ The Officer turned to field a question from another member of the group.

‘Oh yes, he is still in the garrison town. The girl works in her father’s car showroom and from what I gather isn’t short of money. Although I’m sure young Henderson will be giving her some of his savings towards food and things. He was a great saver while he was with us, more interested in his studies and the Third World than spending all he earned. I learned to respect him while he was in my company. He came from a pretty rough background, but had really worked hard to raise himself above it. It’s a damned shame it ended as it did. Now let’s change the subject, I shouldn’t be talking shop and boring the pants off you lot.’ There were mutters of sympathy for the ex Corporal, but probably most of it insincere. There was no smoke without fire.

This could be quite a coup, he thought. An intelligent, articulate, educated but disenchanted young man probably without hope of ever achieving his dreams. Unless he was offered a helping hand. The Army had given the Organisation some very useful people and this could extend that success.

Arriving home, he picked up a pad and created a flow chart for Corporal Henderson. It led him to the garrison town and an Open University student who worked in her father’s car showrooms.

‘It shouldn’t be too difficult to track that young man down,’ he said to himself, and set to work on the plan to tempt the ex-Corporal into the Organisation. More flow charts and it was there.

On this occasion he decided to use a recruitment agency, he knew how they worked and soon found one that suited his needs. First he had to create the vacancy, and decided on the title of Business Development Manager. He devised a vague job description together with a location and remuneration package. Once this was done, he called the agency on his mobile phone, using a company name from the list he had currently trading from the address staffed by Arif Rahman. Giving them the information they required, he left them to advertise, interview and pass the names of successful applicants to his company. It was all very straightforward. The fee asked by the agency was paid up front with a cheque, signed by another nonexistent Managing Director who would never know he had the title or a company with a bank account. Proposed copies of the advert were soon delivered to Rahman’s ‘company office’ and ultimately to him. He agreed the contents, rang the Agency and advised them that he would like one of his senior managers to attend the interviews once they were arranged, he would also like to see all applications before invitations to attend were sent out. The agency readily agreed, they had a good client here, one who paid first. Sometimes they had great difficulty in getting clients to pay their accounts, this must be one of the old school and should be well looked after.

Once the advert appeared in the press, he cut out a copy from the newspaper, taking care to use rubber gloves while preparing anything he was posting. The next stage of his plan was to send the advert to ex-Corporal Henderson, the only attachment would be a piece of paper with the word APPLY written in red pen.

It had not taken him long to find Henderson’s girlfriend’s address. The second car showroom he rang in the garrison town was the one he wanted. Saying he was an Open University tutor trying to find a student who had been passed on to his list, the girl answering the phone immediately gave him the information he needed, ‘That’s Anthea Stoddard, she’s not here today, but you will get her at home I think. Would you like her telephone number?’

‘That’s very good of you.’ His mind was racing. ‘I’d better have her address too I think, just to keep the records straight.’ Fortunately the girl had been taken in by his casual approach and confident manner, and gave him the address. Something she would never have done with the usual type of caller.

He was in London the next morning and the letter would join the millions of others on the conveyor belts. Patting the post box, he said, ‘Mr. Henderson, Manchester needs you. Please apply soon.’ This would be a very special assignment, guaranteed to swell the coffers of a company being developed. It was fortunate that he could be mentally alert to all the comings and goings within the enterprises. There was some sorting out to be done in the Manchester area so that the ground was prepared before Henderson took over that patch.