“David Trevellyan,” I said, after a moment, and went on to explain the problem with the missing Grensons. He listened carefully, without interrupting, and looked increasingly confident as I went along.
“OK,” he said, when I’d finished. “No worries. I have people who can take care of this for you, quite easily. Mags, could you get Stan on the phone for me, please?”
“Um, Mr Leckie is out of the office today,” she said. “A very urgent family situation unexpectedly cropped up, again, I understand.”
“This is the Head of Security we’re talking about?” I said.
The man gave nothing away.
“Because I heard all about his urgent situation,” I said. “It was him I originally went to see.”
“Well, it’s nothing to worry about,” the man said. “Mags, can you get Lydia for me, instead?”
The woman nodded and made her way back out to her own desk, once again keeping a wide berth as she skirted around me.
“Lydia’s our Deputy Security Chief,” he said. “She’s very thorough. This kind of thing is more in her remit, anyway. Probably better that she handles it, in reality.”
“I’m putting her through,” the woman said from the outer office, and after another split second the man’s phone began to ring.
“Ready?” he said, pressing a button. “I’m putting her on loudspeaker.”
“Lydia McCormick,” a younger woman’s voice said, sounding tinny and disembodied through the low-quality equipment.
“Lydia, this is Mark Jackson,” the man said. “I’m here with one of our patients, a Mr David Trevellyan.”
I didn’t correct him.
“David’s staying in one of the observation rooms on B wing, and he has some concerns over the security of personal possessions in that area,” he said.
“What kind of concerns?” she said. “Can he be more specific?”
“Theft,” I said.
“Then there’s no need to worry,” she said. “There have been no thefts reported from any of our primary patient accommodation units in over eighteen months. None at all since I’ve been here, in fact.”
“Well, there’s been one now,” I said.
“When?” she said, above the distant rattling of a computer keyboard. “I can’t see any record of anything.”
“There won’t be a record yet,” the man said. “That’s why David’s here. His boots were stolen from his room this morning, apparently. While he was in the MRI suite. So we do at least have a clear window of time to focus on. He’s understandably upset about this - and I’m disturbed about it too - so I’d like you to look into it, Lydia. As a matter of urgency.”
“Of course,” she said. “I’ll jump on it straight away. Can you just tell me what happened to the S103, though? I’ll need someone to track it down, and get it on the system as quickly as possible.”
“What’s an S103?” I said.
“It’s our basic Security Incident reporting form,” she said. “You have completed one?”
“No, I haven’t,” I said.
“Do you have a copy over there, at least?” she said.
“No.” I said. “I’ve never set eyes on one.”
“Well, that’s not a problem,” she said. “Just ask Mags to print one out for you - she can pull one off the intranet - then ask her to whizz it over to me once you’ve filled it out, and I’ll get the wheels in motion.”
“What information do you need for this form?” I said.
“Oh, not much,” she said. “It’s not hard. Just the basics. What happened. Where. When. Brief descriptions will be fine.”
“I’ve already told you more than that,” I said. “I’ve detailed exactly what happened. And given you a precise description of the boots.”
“I know,” she said. “But that was an oral report. We need it on paper.”
“What other questions are on the form?” I said.
“Oh, none really,” she said. “There’s not much to it.”
“So if you already have the information, and the form doesn’t give you anything new, why do you need it?” I said.
“Because we need the form itself,” she said. “That’s what kicks the process into gear. We can’t move without one.”
“Why not?” I said. “Why can’t you start now?”
“Because we don’t have the form,” she said.
“But the form doesn’t tell you anything you don’t already know,” I said. “It’s pointless.”
“It isn’t pointless,” she said. “It’s the start of the process. There’s no case without one. Nothing for us to work with.”
“OK,” I said. “How about this. You make a start now, before the trail goes completely cold, and I’ll get the paperwork across to you as soon as I can.”
“No,” she said. “I need the form first. That’s how the system works. We can’t do anything without one. We can’t be fully accountable, otherwise.”
“Mark?” I said, looking directly at the man on the other side of the desk. “This is crazy. Help me out, here.”
The man put both hands over his face and then pulled them sideways for a moment, spreading his skin and stretching his eyes into narrow slits.
“Sorry,” he said, letting go of his cheeks again. “If my Deputy Head of Security says we need a Form S103 before we begin, then we need a Form S103 before we begin.”
“Thank you, Mark,” she said. “It isn’t hard to fill in, Mr Trevellyan. And believe me, nothing can be done without one.”
“Is that right?” I said, standing up to leave.
“Where are you going?” the man said.
“Back to my room,” I said. “I feel like I might need a second assessment for my head wound, after all. I’m going to get that taken care of, then see about what you’ve been telling me.”
“Sounds like a plan,” the man said. “Let me know if there’s anything more I can do. Lydia - anything to add before Mr Trevellyan leaves us?”
“No, nothing else from me,” she said, then there was a click, and her voice was replaced by a harsh, grating dial tone.
“Well David, I’d like to thank you for coming in,” the man said, pressing a button on his phone and shutting off the irritating noise. “I appreciate the chance to clear this matter up. I’m sure you’ll be satisfied with the outcome - Lydia really is good at what she does - and I’m glad she was able to clarify the process for you. Good luck with the rest of your treatment. And please, check back with me at any time.”
I turned my back and walked away, thinking that Mark Jackson had actually been right. The conversation with Lydia really had clarified things for me. But probably not in the way he’d expected. Because from the moment she’d mentioned the S103, I’d been absolutely certain about one fact.
No one in that place was going to give me any meaningful help. So, if I ever wanted to see those boots again, I was going to have to get them back by myself.
Chapter Four
It took a full quarter of an hour for me to retrace my steps through the hospital’s maze of colour-coded corridors, but when I reached my room I found that someone had at least come by and cleared up the mess while I’d been gone. I hit the button to call for a nurse, and with nothing else to do while I waited, lay on the bed and flicked through a dozen channels of daytime television. I rejected the soap operas straight away. And the quizzes. There were no news or current affairs programmes to be found. A cooking competition seemed vaguely promising for a while, but I finally settled on a talk show where a seventy-year-old man was being taken to task for sleeping with his thirty something sister-in-law. The host was adamant this was wrong, but the guy himself was standing his ground. He insisted he was entirely justified. He’d already got his third wife’s teenage daughter pregnant, after all. And with the girl temporarily off-limits, how else were his prodigious needs to be met? The audience was still grappling with that one when his wife made her entrance. Things were shaping up nicely, but before I could see whether she would make good on her threat to kill him with her bare hands, there was a knock on my door. It was time to be a patient again.