A Servant of the Company

by Alan Cooke

  They were a strange pair he thought, too young to be in here and from their excited chatter, and had been celebrating for some time already. He didn’t want to be rude. Steve smiled, they were quite harmless he thought. ‘I will have a half of lager with you.’ ‘What would the Captain do?’ he asked himself. ‘Just what I’m doing,’ he thought.

  The drink arrived and he thanked Denise. ‘Well here’s to your good luck, long may it continue,’ he said raising his glass. As he drank, the girls had stopped talking and just watched him as the glass quickly emptied.

  He had to buy the girls a drink before he left. That was all that was on his mind as he got up. Turning as if in a daze, he took three faltering steps then staggered towards the bar. He never reached it. Collapsing, he fell against a number of people, knocking drinks everywhere. A woman screamed as a glass of beer soaked her blouse, while her partner swore at the falling figure. To them he was someone who had too much to drink and was making a nuisance of himself. Two males lifted him up and half carried him to the door where they tried to prop him up against the wall outside. His legs collapsed under him and he slid to the ground unconscious.

  ‘Leave him there to sober up, he’s had a real skin full. Check his wallet, the girls will need money for dry cleaning their clothes. A hand thrust into Steve’s inside pocket and a wallet was quickly retrieved. ‘Twenty quid should do it.’ He laughed as the money vanished into his friend’s pocket. He patted Steve on the head, and said, ‘Sleep well, don’t’ do anything I wouldn’t do.’ The pair headed back into the pub laughing loudly as they went.

  The girls left the pub and walking past the scene, one said in a loud voice, ‘I told you he was on something Denise. He was behaving very oddly in there, I’m glad we’re leaving.’ With that they left their fallen drinking partner and wandered off.

  Before leaving the pub, Denise had picked up the keys Steve had left on the table thinking they could be useful. They didn’t go far. Waiting for them was a small tough looking individual wearing a broad grin on his face. ‘Well done girls,’ he said in a broad Liverpool accent. ‘There’s your reward, and if you come round the back I’ll give you another one.’ As he passed two folded ten pound notes to Marie, they all began laughing and linking arms headed to the deserted area behind the pub.

  ‘Here’s a reward for you too, he left his keys on the table, are they any good?’ Denise was hoping for some praise, and she got it when she saw Scousers face light up.

  ‘Priceless Denise, bloody priceless.’ He hugged her as he put the keys into his pocket, his mind working overtime. A new plan was developing, one which would surely fix Henderson for good.

  A number of people walked past the recumbent body, either too embarrassed to look, or totally disinterested in the misfortunes of their fellow man. It was a Police patrol car driver who spotted him and decided not to look the other way. He pulled up beside Steve, got out of the car and as he approached, muttered ‘Not another one.’ Drunks seem to follow him on his shifts, never bank robberies or incidents with high profile criminals. His specialty was drunks. Whichever shift he was on, he was a magnet to them. He checked Steve’s breathing, then his pulse and decided he did not have to make a life or death threatening decision. Instead, he opened the pub door and called out in a voice which overrode the sound from within. ‘Does anyone own the drunk laying out here?’ There was no response. ‘Well did anyone see him drinking here?’ He had now adopted his investigating pose, hands on hips, waiting for something positive which he was sure would soon come from one of those blank faces in front of him.

  It did when one of Steve’s bearers moved forward. The drinkers parted to let the play continue. It was not everyday this happened to them, they were beginning to see the seamier side of life and had prime spectator views.

  ‘He was drinking in here, but had too much and collapsed causing mayhem.’ He looked around as his partners chipped in with their comments in agreement. ‘A couple of girls said they thought he was on something as well as drink if that’s any help.’ He moved back a step, now wanting to blend in with the crowd, not getting involved in giving statements or having anything further to do with the drunk.

  The Policeman turned to the barmaid. ‘Had he been in here long?’ The evening had started quietly but the last hour had been very busy and she couldn’t remember much about Steve’s behaviour, although she did remember the telephone call.

  She too had no wish for further involvement and phrased her reply so that she too would be forgotten by the Policeman. ‘I couldn’t tell you, we’ve been busy tonight and I just don’t have time to think about what time customers come and go.’ To protect herself, she added, ‘I certainly didn’t notice him looking like a drunk until he fell over.’

  ‘O.K. love, it seems like he has been drinking for some time but behaving himself. Thanks everybody, I’ll leave you to your evening. I should be off duty myself in half an hour. I might pop back and join you.’ He grinned as a chorus of raucous groans echoed around the bar.

  Outside, Steve was still in the same position when the Policeman patted his pockets in search of some kind of identification. He found the wallet and when he checked the contents, he smiled. ‘Lovely, not my responsibility, just another bloody squaddie who has been too near the barmaid’s apron.’ He would not have to be faced with form filling back at the station, just a few lines in his notebook. A quick call to the station on his radio, they would be in touch with the M.P.s at the barracks, and chummy here would be carted off his patch. Couldn’t be better.

  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 anyo
ne 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.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  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.