Not Eligible For Rehire

by Glenn McGoldrick

  Not Eligible for Rehire

  By Glenn McGoldrick

  Text Copyright @2018

  Glenn McGoldrick

  All Rights Reserved

  Thinking of you always, mother…

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  Not Eligible for Rehire

  The evening began the same as most other evenings, with me sipping a coffee while I familiarised myself with the day’s emails in my office.

  A lot of the stuff would be deleted, and if I was lucky I could get it down to two or three memos that I would then print out for the staff notice board. I’d been casino manager on several different cruise ships for almost three years, and I could still be slightly amazed at the amount of paperwork I contended with on a daily basis.

  My cup was almost empty when Diane knocked on the door and looked in.

  “Hi, Jack,” she said. “Do you have a moment?”

  “Hi, Diane. Come on in. Have a seat.”

  She was a Welsh woman of above average height, late twenties and thin. She had pale green eyes, and I thought she was like a cat. I watched her as she sat down, thinking she looked a little stressed.

  “I was hoping to speak to you,” I said. “About your transfer request.”

  “Oh.”

  “Well, it’s been approved. You can transfer to The Mercury in two weeks.”

  “Very good,” she replied.

  She didn’t seem blown away by the news.” Was there something else you came to see me about?”

  “Well,” she said, adjusting herself on the seat. “It’s Terry.”

  “What about him?”

  “He smokes cannabis in the cabin.”

  “What?”

  “He smokes it when I’m not there,” she said. “But I can smell it sometimes.”

  “Are you sure it’s him?”

  “Yeah. I found a block of cannabis today.”

  “Christ,” I said. “In your cabin?”

  “Yeah.”

  “When?”

  She checked her watch, then said, “About an hour ago. I went out in port today, but he said he was going to stay in bed. When I came back he was just leaving for work.”

  “And?”

  “Well, when I walked into the cabin it really smelled. So I started searching, and I found a block of it in his jacket pocket.”

  “What did you do with it?” I asked.

  “I hid it in one of his shoes below the bed.”

  “And that’s where it is now?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive. I just came from there.”

  I tapped my fingers on the desk as I thought. “Have you asked him about it?”

  “No, I haven’t seen him since he went to work.”

  “When was that?”

  “About half past five.”

  “Just bear with me a moment,” I said.

  I grabbed a joystick by the left of my computer keyboard, and toggled through a few screens on the surveillance monitor. I found Terry stood at an empty Blackjack table.

  I called Gary in the gaming area, and asked him to keep Terry on that table for the next hour; I needed time to work on this.

  I turned back to Diane. “You realise this is very serious?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “But it’s only cannabis.”

  “It’s drugs, Diane. The company is very strict about it.”

  I reached for the phone.

  Less than ten minutes later we were joined in my office by Mark Baines, the Onboard Marketing Manager.

  Mark and I had a very good working relationship, bolstered by the occasional drink when we were both off-duty. His job was to oversee the revenue making departments, which included the casino. I would often discuss business matters with him, but he largely left me alone to run the operation.

  Technically speaking I reported to him, so his was the number I called.

  “Evening, Mark,” I said, offering him a seat.

  He sat facing Diane and me, and said, “What’s going on?”

  “Diane – can you tell Mark what you’ve just told me?”

  She told him the story, and he stopped her just once.

  “Terry’s your boyfriend?”

  “My husband,” she replied.

  When she finished recounting events, he sat back in his chair and exhaled audibly. “Wow,” he said.

  I said to him, “What do you reckon?”

  “OK,” he said. “There’s two ways to handle this. We call Chief Security and Staff Captain, and they can authorize a cabin search and drugs test. Then we’d take it from there.”

  “What other option is there?” I asked him.

  He looked at Diane. “Maybe you can go to your cabin, and get rid of the stuff. Break it up and flush it or something. Forget this happened.”

  “No,” I said. “I’m not comfortable with that at all. She’s told us. It’s official. We can’t just forget about it.”

  He stroked his chin a few times, and then said, “Yeah, you’re right. Excuse me while I make a call.”

  The three of us left the office shortly after, taking the stairs to Deck One and walking the short distance to the Security Office.

  We were greeted by Amit, the Chief Security Officer, who seated us in a circle around the desk where he sat. He was a stocky Israeli of medium height, and he smoked a cigarette as Diane told her story again.

  When she finished, he said, “Thank you. Is there anything else you want to add?”

  She thought for a second, and then said, “No. That’s it.”

  “OK. Would you mind waiting outside for a few minutes, please?”

  “Yeah, OK.”

  When the door had closed behind her, Amit turned to me. “Do you believe her?”

  “Yeah, I think so. She knows we’ll definitely search the cabin.”

  “But this guy is her husband?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How well do you know them?”

  “It’s the first time I’ve worked with them. I only got onboard two weeks ago. There’s a bit about them in the previous manager’s handover.”

  “What’s it say in the handover?”

  “That they split up six weeks ago, but decided they could still share a cabin together. She’d requested a transfer.”

  “Split up but still living together? Why?”

  “I’ve no idea. I didn’t really like it either, but that’s how it was when I got onboard.”

  “And she realises her husband could be fired for this?”

  “Yeah, I think she does. She’s been with the company a few years – she knows the policy.”

  “That’s what threw me a little,” Mark said. “Is she trying to get him fired?”

  “What’s he like?” asked Amit. “The husband.”

  “He seems OK. Pretty low profile. Decent at his job.”

  “He’s called Terry?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “English guy.”

  “OK. Well, I must go and see the Staff Captain about this. Where will you be?”

  “We’ll be in my office.”

  “OK. And, obviously, can you make sure they don’t talk to each other?”

  “Yeah. Will do.”

  “And try to keep them from their cabin?”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “Thanks. I’ll call you once I’ve finished talking to the Staff Captain.”

  I asked o
ne of the casino supervisors, Laura, if she could sit with Diane for an hour or so. They both went for a coffee.

  Mark and I went to my office. We didn’t have long to wait; Amit came twenty minutes later and told us a cabin search was authorised.

  We went out to the gaming floor, and I had one of the croupiers change places with Terry at the Blackjack table where he’d spent the previous hour.

  He saw Amit and Mark beside me, and asked, “What’s going on?”

  Amit said, “Please follow me.”

  Terry looked puzzled, but followed us through a door leading into a crew area. We were in a hallway at the top of the stairs, and we were joined by one of Amit’s security staff.

  “Are you carrying any drugs?” asked Amit.

  “What? No!”

  “OK. Would you please take off your shoes and empty your pockets?”

  “Why?” He turned to me. “Jack, what have I done?”

  “They just want to search you, Terry.”

  “But why?”

  “Please take off your shoes and empty your pockets,” Amit repeated.

  Terry obliged, and the security guard stepped forward to check his shoes. Nothing. His pockets yielded only a cabin key and his ID card.

  “OK, now this gentleman will search you.”

  Terry shook his head, but said nothing as the guard frisked him. Nothing was found.

  As he slipped his shoes back on, Amit asked, “Do you have any drugs in your cabin?”

  “No. Of course not!”

  “Well, we’re going to take a look. Please follow me.”

  In the hallway that ran outside the cabin shared by Terry and Diane, we were joined by the Staff Captain and another security guard.

  The Staff Captain was a small and lithe Greek named Damianos, with dark hair and a solemn expression. He was the ship’s second-in-command, and presided over all matters relating to crew discipline.

  Amit had a master key, which he used to open the cabin door. The cabin was a rectangle measuring about ten feet by fifteen, which contained bunk beds and a small bathroom. Amit and the two security staff went inside to conduct the search, and the rest of us stayed in the corridor.

  Terry loitered at the doorway, avidly watching their movements.

  Amit emerged from the cabin shortly after the search started, and showed his open palm to Damianos – in it he held a small black cube, a little larger than a sugar lump.

  Damianos picked it up and smelled it, then turned to Terry.

  “You know what this is?”

  “It looks like marijuana.”

  “Is it yours?”

  Terry shook his head vigorously. “No,” he said. “I’ve never seen it before.”

  “Then how do you know what it is?” asked Amit.

  Terry looked like he was about to laugh. “Come on – movies and stuff. Everybody knows what it is.”

  “Funny, huh? How did it get in to your cabin?” Amit asked.

  “I don’t know,” Terry said. He shrugged his shoulders. “I couldn’t see everything you guys were doing in there.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “Nothing. Take it easy.”

  “I am taking it easy,” said Amit. “You’re the one that should be worried.”

  “OK,” said Damianos. “This is getting us nowhere. Amit, will you ask the guys to finish searching the cabin? I’ll call and arrange a drugs test.”

  Nothing else was found, and a few minutes later we all headed to the medical facility. Mark and I chatted as we walked behind the rest of the group.

  “What do you make of that?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. He says it’s not his.”

  “But how did it get into the cabin?”

  “Exactly,” I said. “It’s either his or hers.”

  “Or they both smoke it.”

  “Yeah - it’s a bit of a mess.”

  “And what’s with her? Is she setting him up?”

  “Exactly. How do we tell? Even if she’s telling the truth…”

  “She’s still grassing her husband up.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m glad we didn’t go with my other suggestion earlier. Jesus!”

  “I think we had to play this totally straight, otherwise we’d have been complicit with her in covering it up – and I don’t trust her at all.”

  “You’re right. Come on - let’s catch up with the rest.”

  In the medical facility we were joined by the Senior Doctor, Raul and two of his medical staff.

  Terry sat on a plastic chair in the hallway, drinking bottled water and looking nervous; we were all waiting for him to provide a urine sample for testing.

  After ten minutes or so, Terry said, “I think I’m ready.”

  Raul handed him a small plastic cylinder and he went to the bathroom cubicle, shadowed by a male security guard.

  Terry emerged from the bathroom and handed the half-full cylinder to Raul, who took it into his office; Damianos, Amit, Mark and I stood watching him from the doorway.

  He opened a small plastic packet, taking out a glass tube that contained a clear liquid. He removed the cap on the glass tube, and added a little of the urine. He then shook the tube gently, trying to mix the contents.

  He lifted the tube to eye level, and waited a few seconds. He shook his head slowly.

  Damianos said, “Well, doctor?”

  “It’s negative. You can see the liquid has darkened a little bit, but it should be much darker than that. It should be purple, really.”

  “Why has it darkened at all?” Mark asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Raul said. “It shouldn’t really darken at all, unless he’s smoked cannabis. But then it would be purple.”

  “So, what do we do?” asked Damianos.

  Raul shrugged. “We could try another sample. But if that was the same, then I’d have to call it negative.”

  And that’s what happened: we repeated the procedure twenty minutes later, after Terry had drank more water.

  It was inconclusive, and Raul declared it negative - no drugs present in Terry’s system.

  Damianos told me to keep Terry off work for the evening, and to expect a Master’s Hearing in the morning.

  I left the medical facility with Mark and Terry.

  “What happens now?” Terry asked.

  “Well, you can take tonight off,” I said. “We’ll probably have a Master’s Hearing in the morning.”

  “A Master’s Hearing? Am I gonna get fired?”

  “I don’t know, Terry. They found drugs in your cabin, so they can’t just forget about it – even if you did pass the drugs test.”

  “Jesus! Unbelievable. What time in the morning?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ll call you as soon as they call me.”

  “OK. Thanks. Bye.” And he left, shaking his head.

  “Not a happy camper,” Mark said.

  “Yeah,” I said. “You can say that again.”

  Mark and I chatted for a few more minutes, then I said goodbye and promised to call him later if there were any more developments.

  I went looking for Laura and Diane, eventually finding them having a cigarette in the Staff Day Room. I briefed them both on what had happened with Terry, then asked Laura if she would organise a spare cabin for Diane for the evening.

  “Just for tonight?” she asked.

  “Erm, yeah, probably,” I said. “We’ll just play it by ear until tomorrow.”

  I then returned to my office, and spent a few hours catching up on paperwork. I left just before 1 a.m. and went to my cabin for an early night. I wanted to be prepared for the next morning.

  At 9:30 a.m. I rode the elevator with Terry.

  Other than the words we’d exchanged on the telephone, he hadn’t said much else. He didn’t seem to be very anxious, and I figured he’d probably resigned himself to the idea of losing his job.

  We got out on Deck Eight, turned left and walked twenty metres down the corridor. There
was only one cabin in the area, and the door was open – I knocked on it and we entered.

  There were a number of tables arranged in a U shape facing the Captain’s desk, and seated at these tables were a number of high-ranking personnel: Damianos; Amit; Mark; the Hotel Director, Lisa; and the Human Resources Manager, Neville.

  There was an empty table with two seats at the near end of the U, and I sat there with Terry. We faced the Captain, who sat at his desk about two metres from us.

  On a couch by the window sat Linda, the Hotel Administrative Assistant, who would take minutes of the hearing. There would not be many minutes to take.

  Terry protested his innocence, saying he did not know how the drugs got into his cabin. He reminded everyone that he had also passed a drugs test.

  I spoke briefly, stating that he was a capable employee with a good disciplinary record. There was not a lot else I could say; the decision would not be mine.

  Terry appeared to be quite calm, perhaps thinking that the situation would eventually sort itself out – I thought the Captain looked quite angry, possibly reading Terry’s demeanour as arrogance.

  The hearing finished abruptly with the Captain saying, “Your contract is terminated. Get off my ship.”

  His flight had already been arranged by the Crew Office, and I spent the next hour organising the payment of salary and gratuities owed to him. He packed his things and left the ship at noon, in order to catch his 3 p.m. flight from Ketchikan International Airport. I don’t think he spoke to his wife before leaving.

  That evening onboard passed uneventfully, and I actually got some work done. I met Mark in the Staff Bar when I’d finished, and we gossiped over a few beers.

  “Why didn’t they test her?” I said.

  “I was thinking about that. Maybe they thought it was messy enough.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well,” he said. “They found the drugs, but Terry said they weren’t his. And because they found drugs, they have to do something. They can’t just let it go because they’re not sure.”

  “Jesus! That’s probably right.”

  “They probably thought it was less hassle to just fire one. And,” he went on, “it’s a good advert for the Zero Tolerance policy.”