Whistleblower

by Terry Morgan

CHAPTER 77

  Katrine's phone rang just as she sat down at her desk. It was Dirk Eischmann.

  "Katrine - come to my office."

  "But......." she began.

  "Now." It was a command. There was no please and no thank you and an invitation to come to Eischmann's office was rare. As she walked to the lift she recalled it had only happened once before. Three other senior staff members had been present then and the problem had been about the competency of another. Katrine took a deep breath, walked along the carpeted corridor and tapped on the door at the end. "Come."

  Dirk Eischmann had a long, dark coat on that was still wet from the rain outside. He was standing by the window looking down into the concourse below. He turned and beckoned to the chair opposite his big desk. "Sit"

  Katrine, in her usual grey trouser suit, sat down, crossed her legs and put her hands together in her lap. Eischman turned to the window again. "Do you know where Jan Kerkman is?"

  So, it was about Jan. She needed to play it very carefully. "Is he not at his desk?"

  "No. He left the building on Monday morning. He's not been seen since."

  "Is he sick?"

  Eischmann turned and, as he did so, pulled off his wet overcoat. He tried slinging it over the back of his chair, but it slid to the ground. Katrine watched but then looked at his face. Eischmann was such an ordinary looking middle aged man. He was someone who, as Jan had once said, you'd walk past in the street as if he was out on a shopping errand for his wife wearing a suit. She could see drops of rain on his wide brimmed glasses and watched him take them off, wipe them on a white handkerchief he took from his pocket and replace them on his nose. He sniffed.

  "He is not sick." He paused. "You know him well."

  It was a statement that demanded an answer. Katrine, thinking, trying not to panic, found she was the one who now sniffed involuntarily.

  "Yes, we sometimes meet socially with work colleagues."

  "You see him alone?"

  "We have met once or twice for a drink." She paused. "Is there anything wrong, Mr Eischmann?"

  "We need to be careful," he said, turning back towards the window. "We deal with sensitive matters. All staff are warned about mixing with people who think they can be influenced."

  What was he playing at, thought Katrine. Eischmann, probably the worst offender, looked worried. She decided to say nothing and Eischmann turned again.

  "If Kerkman contacts you, ask him where he is and let me know."

  "Do you think he's left his job, Mr Eischmann? Just walked out without giving notice?"

  Eischmann wasn't looking at her, just standing, stroking his chin. Then: "If that is so, then it is not good to just walk away, Miss Nielsen. It is unprofessional. Matters of a confidential nature may be put at risk. We need to find him. It is very urgent."

  Precisely what matters of a confidential nature he was referring to were uncertain, but an unnatural sign of panic sounded in Eischmann's voice. It quivered. "We need to resolve outstanding matters, uh, relating to his employment. You will tell me immediately if he contacts you. That is all." He turned his back.

  Katrine stood up. "Yes, thank you Mr Eischmann." Five minutes later she was back at her desk.