‘What is that smell?’
Maitland’s head appeared round the side of his computer, nostrils twitching as he made a show of sniffing the air. Bernard braced himself for an onslaught of abuse. Maitland got to his feet, pulling his lanky 6´3˝ to its full height, and stood towering over him. ‘Bernard, are you responsible for stinking out the office?’
‘My stab-proof vest had a nasty accident.’ He held the offending article aloft.
Maitland moved hurriedly backwards. ‘Oh, that’s what they’re for! Catching Bernard’s vomit when he gets so scared he pukes!’
‘Maitland!’ said Carole, the fourth member of their team. ‘Be nice.’
Mona appeared with a handful of plastic bags which she spread out on the floor next to Bernard’s desk.
‘Thank God.’ He dropped the vest, delighted to offload it. ‘I was puked upon, actually.’
‘By your Defaulter?’ asked Carole.
‘No. Some guy that was at the house when we went looking for her.’
‘Did you bring him in?’
‘No.’ Maitland looked sceptical, and Bernard felt immediately defensive. ‘We had no grounds to. He denied all knowledge of knowing any Alessandra Barr. His Green Card checked out OK, and Police Scotland weren’t looking for him for anything.’
‘Where’s the Guv?’ asked Mona.
‘In his office.’ In one corner of the main room an MDF structure created an internal office for their team leader, John Paterson. This gave their boss a private, although not very soundproofed space, particularly as Paterson was seldom given to communicating in anything less than a bark.
‘In his office with the door shut?’
‘I know!’ said Carole. ‘It’s not like him at all.’ Their team leader valued the two-way communication afforded to him by an open door. He could yell at his staff without having to get up, and could eavesdrop on their conversations with minimal effort.
Maitland took up the story. ‘He was fine first thing, then about nine thirty he shut the door and we’ve not seen him since. We didn’t hear him taking any phone calls, so we reckon it must have been an e-mail that’s upset him.’
‘Trouble, do you think?’ Mona looked thoughtful. ‘I wonder if we should tell him that we’re back?’
‘Tell him about Bernard puking on himself.’ Maitland chuckled. ‘That’ll cheer him up.’
‘I did not puke. It was . . .’ he tailed off as Paterson flung open the door to his office.
‘Maitland, I need you in here.’
‘Just me?’ asked Maitland, surprised.
‘Yup.’ Paterson wasn’t catching anyone’s eye. There was a slight shiftiness about his manner. In anyone else Bernard would have said he detected an air of embarrassment, but he couldn’t conceive of an issue that would provoke that kind of emotion in his rhino-hided boss.
Maitland’s usual smugness had been replaced by an expression of mild alarm. ‘Just me? Am I in trouble?’
‘It’s, well, it’s a . . . sensitive issue.’
‘So, he is in trouble?’ asked Bernard, hopefully.
Paterson sighed. ‘I might as well tell you all as I’ll need to speak to you as part of the investigation.’
‘Investigation?’ Maitland imbued the word with all the horror he could muster. Bernard suspected that the tone was justified. Investigations ended careers, halting promotion prospects in their tracks. Even if they got the all-clear, chances were some mud stuck. Investigations were bad news, and Bernard couldn’t be happier that Maitland was in the middle of one, although he was racking his brains to work out what his colleague could have done.
‘There’s been a complaint about Maitland’s behaviour on the Weber and Greenwood cases a couple of months back.’
Maitland’s jaw dropped. ‘But it was Bernard and Mona that arsed that up.’
‘I don’t disagree.’
Bernard glanced at Mona. There was a tiny flicker of hurt on her face which quickly disappeared. She turned back to her computer, he suspected to avoid catching his eye.
He was inclined to agree with Maitland, himself. Colette Greenwood, a divinity student, and Heidi Weber, the daughter of a German MP, had both been Defaulters. They’d been young, pretty and totally in thrall to a religious cult with a dangerous interest in prophylactic drugs. Mona and Bernard had messed the case up, and Heidi had been found dead. It was only the desire of the German government not to have any further light shone on the case that had let them keep their jobs. Bernard was pretty sure that Paterson had been engaged on some wheeling-dealing on their behalf, but whatever had gone on behind the scenes, the end result seemed to have caused irreparable damage to the Guv and Mona’s relationship. He couldn’t honestly remember a civil word passing between the two of them in the past couple of months.
‘Anyway, Maitland, as I said it’s sensitive so in my office, now.’
He still didn’t move. ‘If this is an investigation, am I not entitled to have someone with me?’
Paterson considered this. From the look of indecision on his face Bernard deduced his boss was not as familiar as he should be with the staffing information that all the HET team members had been given as part of their Induction Guide. He, on the other hand, had taken the precaution of memorising several essential nuggets, in case he was ever subject to a grievance, disciplinary or any other deeply unpleasant HR procedure. He swithered for a second, then opened his mouth.
‘Under Section 73 of the staff handbook you’re entitled to be accompanied by a union rep . . .’
Maitland’s expression remained in panic mode. ‘I’m not in the union.’
‘Or another member of staff.’
Carole laughed. ‘Oh, Maitland. If only you knew a staff member with an encyclopaedic knowledge of rules and regulations who could help you out.’
He turned to him. ‘Bernard . . .?’
‘Right,’ said Paterson, turning on his heel. ‘Can you and Perry Mason there finally get in here?’
‘I didn’t say I’d do it,’ said Bernard to his boss’s retreating back.
‘Come on, don’t be a dick.’ Maitland bounded over to Bernard’s desk, nearly tripping over the desecrated vest in his haste.
‘No, sorry.’ He pressed his computer’s on button. ‘Not doing anything for that kind of attitude.’
‘OK, I apologise.’ He crouched down and lowered his voice. ‘Please help me out here, mate.’
‘Going to have to be considerably more begging than that.’
‘OK.’ He stood back up, and sighed. ‘If you do this, I’ll owe you one.’
‘A favour to be redeemed from Maitland?’ He considered the offer for a moment. ‘That’s worth having. OK, I’m in.’
They trooped into Paterson’s office. He didn’t look up, seemingly entranced by the documents spread in front of him.
‘So, a complaint has been made that you, Maitland, were, ehm . . .’ there was some rearranging of the papers on Paterson’s desk, ‘ . . .em, having sexual relations with one of the witnesses on the Greenwood case.’
Maitland’s face contorted. ‘This is bloody Emma, isn’t it? My ex?’
‘All complainants are given anonymity during the investigation.’
‘It is her though, isn’t it?’
Paterson shrugged, which Maitland took as a yes. ‘Not bad enough that she dumps me, she also has to make trouble.’
‘Speaking as a divorcé, making trouble for the errant male does seem to feature pretty highly on a scorned woman’s to-do list. I could have been sacked three times over if people had believed everything my first wife said about me when I left her, so I’m not unsympathetic.’
‘Ehm, anonymity, Mr Paterson?’ said Bernard.
‘Not that I’m confirming it was your ex. Anyway, so, you weren’t sleeping with,’ he checked the name, ‘Kate Wilson during the investigation?’
Bernard laughed, incurring glares from both Maitland and Paterson. Usually his team leader’s wrath would be enough to swiftly rid him of any feelings of happiness, but this was just too good. He doubled over and chortled.
‘Something funny?’
‘Well, firstly, Mr Paterson,’ he fought to get his breathing under control, ‘Kate is a Christian of the variety that doesn’t believe in sex before marriage, and secondly, she’s a good-looking woman with more sense than to look at Maitland.’
His colleague glowered at him, before his features morphed into an expression closer to coyness. ‘Actually . . .’
Silence filled the office.
‘Actually, what?’ asked Paterson.
‘We’re dating.’
Paterson slumped back in his chair. ‘There are boundaries, Maitland . . .’
‘But it started after the investigation ended!’
‘OK.’ He thought for a second. ‘That’s a very relevant point. And you’re not . . .’ Paterson made a vague gesture with his hand. Bernard could contain himself no longer and started to giggle again.
Maitland elbowed him in the ribs. ‘No.’
‘So, just to clarify, Bernard, did you notice any inappropriate behaviour of a sexual nature by Maitland toward anyone involved in the Greenwood case?’
‘Just his usual level of inappropriate sexual innuendo. And some misplaced homophobia in my direction.’
‘I’ll put that as a no, then. Mona! Carole!’ They appeared suspiciously quickly at the door. ‘Did you notice any inappropriate behaviour of a sexual nature by Maitland toward anyone involved in the Greenwood case?’
‘Like what, Mr Paterson?’ asked Carole.
‘If you have to ask, Carole, I’m going to take that as a “no”.’
‘Mona?’
She grinned. ‘No, Guv.’
Paterson continued scribbling on his notes. ‘OK, as far as I’m concerned that’s the investigation concluded, bar submitting the paperwork.’ He pointed at the door. ‘Now, out of my office.’
‘I expect you want to know what all that was about?’ asked Bernard, pulling the door shut behind him.
‘No. We could hear pretty much every word,’ said Mona, grinning. ‘I particularly liked the bit about Maitland having a new girlfriend but not getting laid.’
‘Same as Bernard, then, except for the girlfriend bit.’ The colour was returning to Maitland’s cheeks. ‘Anyway, doesn’t anyone have work to do, people to find, etc., etc.?’
‘Not sure we’re quite finished taking the piss, but it’ll keep.’