‘And do you think they’ll believe me?’
‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘Your record is exemplary. You have a fantastic character reference from Professor Adil Khan. And there’s been no report of erratic behaviour that might indicate the abuse of controlled drugs.’
Sam sensed Ed was holding a negative back. ‘But?’
‘But,’ he said, ‘the drugs were found in your locker.’
31
Straight after Ed Stansfield left, Sam called a local taxi company and arranged for them to pick up Anna from the airport. He then left a message on Anna’s mobile, explaining that he had to attend an urgent meeting at the hospital – he didn’t expand on that – and that a taxi would be waiting for her in the arrivals hall. Anna was currently 30,000 feet in the air, but Sam hoped that she’d switch on her phone soon after landing, so wouldn’t have chance to wonder where he was.
For the following few hours, Sam did as Professor Khan had advised. He spent the time at thought, hidden away in his office, drinking cups of tea and thinking through how he was going to handle the situation. Emotions battled for supremacy within him; fear, anger, confusion. It was hard to know what to do, and he longed for Anna to be there. She was always so good at helping him to see through the fog. But eventually he came to the conclusion that Ed Stansfield was right – it wouldn’t be sensible to talk about conspiracies or links with his sister’s murder, Richard Friedman, and the train crash. It would just risk him looking paranoid, or delusional. And for the board that might be enough to confirm their suspicions that he was indeed using the very drugs that had been found in his locker.
But still, there was a link between these events. Sam was sure. The board meeting just wasn’t the right time to voice it.
When Sam had exhausted his thought processes, he emerged from his hideaway, seeing just one nurse as he passed quickly through the department. He headed for the lift and down towards Louisa’s office. It was now twelve thirty, and she would have just finished her morning’s consultations.
She was indeed in her office. As Sam approached, he could see her through the window of the door, talking on her mobile. He peered through the glass and tapped a hello. Louisa looked startled to see him. She held up a hand for him to wait and then turned her back to him, finishing off the call in just a few seconds. She faced Sam and beckoned him in.
‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘my sister. She’s going through another one of her man crises.’
‘She okay?’ Sam said, closing the door behind him, his mind not really on the wellbeing of Louisa’s sister.
‘Oh, you know Helen,’ Louisa dismissed with a wave of her hand. ‘She gets like this from time to time, worrying about whether this man or that man is Mr Right. Anyway, how are you? No more calls or emails?’
Sam sat down, feeling guilty about injecting another dose of negativity into Louisa’s life. He looked across to her, wondering how to word it. In that moment Louisa knew that something had happened, and her face tensed.
‘What is it, Sam? What’s happened?’
‘Professor Khan called me this morning,’ he began. ‘The hospital did a search last night of my locker and found half a packet of Alprazolam tablets. The board now think I’m a drug abuser and have called an emergency meeting for three hours’ time.’
‘My God,’ Louisa said. ‘But, that’s rubbish, Sam, it’s rubbish. How did they know to...what made them look in your locker?’
‘Someone called and tipped them off.’
Her anger was palpable. ‘Who?’
Sam shrugged. ‘They don’t know. Or if they do, they’re not saying.’
‘But this is just crazy. Someone’s set you up.’
The strength of her certainty surprised Sam. He had expected support, of course, but her instinct was total rejection of the allegations – there was no doubt in her eyes. ‘Thanks.’
‘For what?’
‘For believing me.’
Louisa looked offended at Sam’s insinuation; that he may have doubted that she would believe him. ‘Of course I believe you. I’m your friend.’
‘It doesn’t mean I have any right to expect such rock solid support from you.’
‘Of course you do,’ Louisa hit back. ‘You have every right.’
Sam smiled his gratitude. ‘It means a lot.’
Louisa had already moved on with her thoughts. ‘So who the hell’s done this?’
‘The drugs came from hospital stocks.’
‘No,’ Louisa exclaimed. ‘It’s someone at the hospital?’
‘To get the drugs, you need staff access to the controlled drugs cabinets on the ward,’ Sam said. ‘So it must be someone who could get that access.’
Louisa thought on that. ‘You think it could be Miles?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Sam said. ‘I don’t think he’d do it.’
‘Probably not,’ she replied. ‘He’s not that bad or desperate – at least I don’t think he is. But if it isn’t Miles, then who?’
Sam waited a beat. ‘The same person who sent me the link to the train crash recording.’
Louisa didn’t look that surprised. ‘You think this is all connected?’
‘I know it sounds outlandish, but it does make sense in some ways. Someone is targeting me, Louisa. This could be just another example.’
‘But the access to the drugs. It means that the person works here.’
‘Or maybe,’ Sam said, repeating Ed Stansfield’s earlier thought, ‘they have contacts in the hospital.’
Louisa shook her head. ‘This is all so crazy, Sam.’
‘I know.’ Sam decided not to discuss his suspicions of Marcus at this point. He wasn’t sure why exactly, maybe because it just felt like too much. He would talk to Louisa about it, but not right now.
‘So what are you going to do? You have to attend the board meeting?’
Sam nodded. ‘Three o’clock sharp.’
‘And who’s going to be there?’
‘I don’t know. Carla, for certain. And whoever in the senior management team can make it I guess. Professor Khan too.’
‘And does he support you?’
‘Yes,’ Sam said. ‘But there’s only so much he can do.’
Louisa let out a sigh of frustration. ‘Do you think they’re going to suspend you?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘But what about the job interview?’
‘I really don’t know.’
‘This is awful, Sam, just awful. Whoever’s doing this, we can’t just let them get away with it.’
‘I know,’ Sam said. ‘They won’t.’
He wasn’t sure whether he really believed that, but he had to think positively. He had to think this would all end happily.
Just then Sam’s mobile buzzed in his pocket. He excused himself and pulled out the device.
It was a message from Louisa’s stolen phone.
Cathy died in my arms, Sam. Where were you?
Sam made his way up to the boardroom, still seething about the taunting text message. Somehow he had to put the actions of this sick individual to the back of his mind, at least for the next hour - but how? The doors to the lift opened and Ed Stansfield, as promised, was waiting for him on the other side.
‘Hi,’ he said, unsmiling, still clutching his file. ‘Are you ready for this?’
Sam nodded.
‘Remember,’ he said, dropping the volume, ‘try not to be drawn by the board into saying anything you might regret. If you feel uncomfortable answering any of their questions, just glance over at me and I’ll take it.’
‘Sure.’
He patted his back. ‘Let’s go then.’
They walked along the corridor, silence descending, and came to the boardroom. Ed Stansfield knocked and they were called in. The room layout had been changed to an interview style. The long board table, and its occupants, faced them along the back window, with two empty chairs in between. Unlike a few days ago, the board table was fully occupied. Sam did a quic
k scan of the people present. There were eight of them. Carla Conway was sat in the middle. Either side were six of the permanent board members, with Professor Khan at the far end. And immediately on Carla’s right, a late to middle aged man who Sam didn’t recognise. He assumed it was the hospital solicitor. Sam looked back at Professor Khan, who nodded a greeting almost imperceptibly, sending a hidden message of support.
‘Sam,’ Carla began, ‘if you wouldn’t mind taking a seat.’
This time there were no smiles.
Sam sat down and Ed Stansfield took the seat next to him.
‘Thank you for coming at such short notice,’ Carla began, stony-faced. ‘The board appreciates your co-operation in this serious matter.’
Sam nodded.
‘I know that Mr Stansfield has explained the situation to you earlier today,’ she continued.
‘He did,’ Sam replied.
Carla Conway picked up a piece of paper from the desk and peered at it from over her glasses. ‘Yesterday evening we received a call from an anonymous individual, who claimed that you had been taking controlled drugs from hospital supplies for your own personal use. We launched an immediate investigation, and found a quantity of controlled drugs – Alprazolam – in your locker. The batch code confirmed that they were from hospital supplies.’
She looked up at Sam and held her gaze, awaiting a response.
‘The drugs aren’t mine,’ Sam stated, trying to erase any emotion from his statement. He needed to stay professional, calm and controlled. ‘Someone must have put them there.’
Carla didn’t flinch, as if she’d already known what he was going to say. ‘So you’re denying that you took the drugs from hospital supplies, for your own personal use?’
‘Yes.’
She glanced down. ‘Then how did the drugs get there?’
Again Sam fought to maintain a professional tone. ‘Like I said, someone put them there – the same person who called you.’
She looked puzzled at that suggestion. ‘You’re saying that another member of the hospital staff has deliberately set you up?’
‘Someone at the hospital must have accessed the controlled drugs stocks.’
‘Who?’ she said, looking far from convinced.
‘I don’t know,’ Sam admitted. ‘But I’m just telling you that it wasn’t me. I don’t take drugs, and I don’t steal from this hospital.’
Carla took off her glasses, leaning towards him across the table. ‘Why would someone do this, Sam? Why would someone who works here do this to you?’
‘I don’t know.’
She sat back. ‘I want to believe you, Sam. I really do. But try and see this from our point of view. The drugs were found in your locker.’
‘Someone put them there.’
‘So they had a key? The locker wasn’t forced open.’
Ed Stansfield hadn’t mentioned that. He resisted the temptation to look over at him for confirmation. ‘They must have had a master key.’
‘So they had a key to your locker and they also had access to the controlled drugs stock?’
‘They must have done.’
‘So you think maybe this person works in security,’ she tried, ‘if they have access to master keys?’
‘Maybe,’ Sam said. ‘I don’t know, but all I do know is that someone put those drugs there, and then called to tell you about it.’ He addressed all eight in turn across the table. ‘I don’t know who, I don’t know why, but that’s all I can come up with.’ He was struggling to keep his anger and frustration in check now. ‘Do you really think I’d throw away my career for this? I love what I do, and you know that, Carla.’
‘Sam is as baffled by this as anyone,’ Ed Stansfield interjected, aware of the need to dampen down the escalating emotional tension. ‘But he is willing to do anything it takes to find out who did this, and offers his full support in the investigation.’
Carla nodded. ‘Sam. You’ve been through a series of traumatic events during the past two weeks. And I must admit, I take some responsibility for increasing the stress which you undoubtedly have been under. I should not have encouraged you to liaise with the media when it was obvious you were not keen.’
Sam waited.
‘And it would be understandable, that, under those extreme circumstances, you might turn to other forms of support…’
‘No,’ Sam interrupted.
‘You have a record that is second to none, Sam. You have a fantastic character reference from Professor Khan, who I must add, is unwavering in his support for you and has been extremely vocal on that score.’
Sam glanced over at Professor Khan, but he was just looking down, in a way that rang alarm bells of what was to come.
‘But even so,’ Carla continued. ‘We have a duty to take this matter extremely seriously.’
‘You’re going to suspend me,’ Sam said.
‘We need a few minutes to deliberate,’ she replied. ‘And then we’ll call you back in to explain our decision. But before I ask you to leave the room for a moment, is there anything else that you wish to say?’
Sam exchanged a look with Ed Stansfield. ‘No.’
32
‘You did the right thing,’ Ed Stansfield said, as they moved a few paces down the corridor, out of earshot from the board room. ‘You kept it simple, to the point.’
‘Carla didn’t look convinced,’ Sam said, musing on what had just happened. He should have expected it to turn out the way it did. They had to go through a process, reserve judgement until the evidence was clear. But the lack of support still hurt, especially from Carla. Even Professor Khan had been noticeably quiet, although he hoped that behind closed doors the Professor had argued Sam’s case. He looked at his watch. Anna’s flight would be landing any moment. Why couldn’t he be there to welcome her home, hold her tight?
‘I’m afraid it looks likely that you will be suspended from duty,’ Ed Stansfield said. ‘But if the investigation is swift, you could be back at work within a matter of weeks.’
‘Assuming they decide I’m innocent,’ Sam replied, still thinking of Anna. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his mobile. It had been on silent during the meeting, but the screen display registered a message. It hit him like a jab to the ribs, knocking him back a pace.
‘My God.’
Ed Stansfield moved towards him. ‘What’s the matter?
‘I’ve got to go,’ Sam replied, already moving towards the lifts, his head reeling from what he had just read.
Ed Stansfield followed, spooked by his client’s behaviour. ‘Sam, don’t leave. If you’re not here when the board calls you back, it could make things much worse.’
Sam reached the lifts and hit the button. He knew this one action was potentially career-ending, but he had no other choice. ‘Tell them I’ve got a family emergency.’
‘What sort of emergency? Is everything okay, Sam? If I can tell them something specific, it would help.’
‘Sorry,’ he said, stepping into the lift and pressing the ground floor button several times. ‘Please, just tell them I had no choice.’
The doors closed on an open-mouthed Ed Stansfield.
Anna Becker leant close to the window and looked down on the patchwork quilt countryside as they approached Heathrow. The plane banked anti-clockwise in a wide circle, waiting its turn to land. It couldn’t come soon enough. The flight had been pleasant, as a long haul flight could be, but had seemed to take forever, so desperate was Anna to get home. This time the homing instinct had been worse than ever, and although she was in some ways disappointed at cutting the visit short, the need to be with Sam was too strong.
Two minutes later the plane straightened up, and touched down with only a gentle kiss of the runway. Anna smiled. It was great to be back. She placed a hand on her stomach as she thought of Sam.
He would be waiting for her in the arrivals hall.
Anna waited for the rest of the passengers to disembark before grabbing her bag and making her wa
y out of the plane and down to the luggage collection area. She waited at the empty conveyor belt along with the rest of the flight, many of whom were obviously people who had visited or were coming to visit relatives. With the baggage yet to arrive, she took the opportunity to check her phone.
But it wasn’t in her pocket, or her bag.
She searched again, but the phone definitely wasn’t there. Thinking it must have fallen out during the flight, or maybe on the way from the plane, she retraced her steps back towards the aircraft. The crew had left, but one of the cleaners accompanied her down to her seat. There was no sign of the phone.
Defeated and annoyed, Anna returned to the luggage collection area. By now the cases had arrived, and she soon spotted her black case with its distinctive red and white trim. Mulling over where the phone could be, she realised the last time she had seen it was just before taking off. It had been on the plane. So maybe one of the crew had already found it.
She would contact the company the next day. One day without the phone would probably be as much of a blessing as an inconvenience. And anyway, Sam was waiting right outside, so she had no need of it right this moment.
But when she emerged into the arrivals hall, Sam wasn’t there. Anna scanned the crowds, but couldn’t see him anywhere. She stopped, turning three hundred and sixty degrees. And then she saw the man with the sign, Anna Becker.
‘Hi, I’m Anna, Anna Becker,’ she explained to the man, who was wearing a chauffeur’s suit. He was young, late twenties probably, with close cropped hair and stubble.
He smiled. ‘Taxi back to Clerkenwell?’
‘Yeah,’ Anna answered, thrown and disappointed by this unexpected welcome –she had been so looking forward to seeing Sam. ‘My husband arranged this?’
He nodded, glancing at his clipboard. ‘Sam Becker.’
Someone To Save you Page 21
