Dutch Courage (4 page)

Margot's first pregnancy settled the issue. They drove to Cornwall and were married by special licence in an old village church with a backdrop of wild, craggy moorland. On learning a grandchild was on the way, Preston Phipps acted swiftly. Sergeant Collier's name was put forward for a commission. Then came Sierra Leone and Margot's miscarriage. Sir Preston laid the blame for this at Sam's door, not only because he had been careless enough to be captured by teenage mercenaries, but because he clearly came from weak stock. No credit was given to Sam's subsequent daring escape from captivity.

The second miscarriage had strengthened Phipps's claim. Quite when it had dawned on Sam that Margot was desperate for him to prove his worth to her father he could not pinpoint, but the obligation to excel began to dog his days. It became essential to father a child – preferably a lusty son – and as pilot, soldier and fighting man he must stand head and shoulders above his peers. At six feet four it was physically true in many instances, but it was his personal resilience and procreative ability being questioned. Margot loved him madly, but she was obsessed by the compulsion to make her widowed father love him, too.

In addition, Sam had to deal with resentment from a few of his colleagues. Who could blame them? There was no denying his father-in-law's influence had secured the sudden elevation to officer status. That he would most probably have been commissioned within a year or two was discounted. Sam, himself, would have been prouder of his new rank if it had been earned in the usual way.

Unscrewing the flask, he took another long drink to combat his reviving anger. Had Margot no idea what she was doing with her conflicting desires for him to excel and yet protect him from the stress of doing so? Her overwhelming delight with the publicity and squadron pride over the action in Afghanistan which had earned him an MC, took no account of what it had cost him then, and what it was costing them both now. She had her way. Major General Sir Preston Phipps was impressed. Keep up this level of excellence and, providing this third pregnancy ran its full term, the fish-and-chip boy might meet the full criteria.

More vodka to boost the resolution to drive home now and tell his wife they could not go on as they were; warn her that what she had built up could easily come crashing down. Yes, and make her aware of his anger over her lack of confidence in his ability to champion and protect her. Running to the bloody Redcaps instead!

Max moodily flipped through stuff that had accumulated in his in tray over the four days he had been with Livya. Most of it was routine paperwork issued to every officer on the base, which they were expected to peruse and memorize. They could not, of course, because they were too busy to plough through pages detailing such things as alterations to the siting of fire hydrants, new regulations governing the size of replacement office desks as from January 2008 and memoranda on maintenance and repairs of washing machines in Other Ranks' accommodation blocks. Unfortunately, when they were away in a war zone, or even on a military exercise, this ‘bumf' mounted up to await their return.

Max had a cupboard where he stacked these papers under appropriate headings, so that he could hook out the relevant pages if he needed to bone up on the subject. Sod's Law decreed that the most mundane information would be needed the moment it became buried at the bottom of a huge pile.

A glance at the clock told him it was lunchtime. After his large breakfast he was not hungry. He supposed Livya was by now swiftly donning her uniform prior to taking a taxi to her office, there breathlessly to offer his father a lying explanation. Just as well he had no contact with Andrew Rydal. He might be tempted to tell him of the game Captain Cordwell was playing.

Heavy-hearted over the airport parting this morning, and the clash of temperament with Tom Black just now, Max was deciding to go in search of alcoholic stimulus at a small hotel just outside the main gate when Sergeant Maddox, senior NCO of the uniformed branch, appeared in the office doorway.

‘Are you busy, sir?'

Max smiled and indicated his in tray. ‘Only with this lot. Happy to be interrupted.'

The burly Redcap entered and carefully closed the door, which surprised Max somewhat.

‘Problem, George?'

‘One for SIB, I think. No, I'm sure it is.'

‘Sit down and outline what you've got so far,' Max said, his spirits rising at the prospect of some real work.

A large man passionate about golf, rugby and hot-air ballooning, Maddox had appeared unshakable until a family massacre at Christmas had affected him deeply. Childless himself he nevertheless deplored crimes against minors more than any he handled. He spoke in harsh tones now.

‘Corporal Melcher was called to her quarter by Mrs Laine this morning. Stacey, her daughter, was in a state of near hysteria. She claims Major Clarkson indecently assaulted her.'

‘
What?
'

‘I know,' he agreed with raised eyebrows. ‘He was called by the mother yesterday because the girl had a very high temperature and severe pains in her stomach. He examined her, said she had a viral infection that could be treated at home, and gave medication to ease the discomfort. This morning Stacey threw a wobbly and told her mother the MO had put his fingers between her legs and stroked her intimately, while whispering suggestively in her ear.'

‘He surely wasn't alone with her.'

‘Not during the examination, but Mrs Laine admits she left him in the bedroom writing a prescription while she went downstairs for a glass of water to dissolve the powder he had given for the patient. Stacey claims he pulled back the duvet and did it then.'

‘So why wait until the morning to report it?'

‘She told Melcher she was shocked and too frightened of the consequences if she said anything. She worried about it all night, wondering what best to do. Seems she's a bosom pal of Ginny Clarkson. Said she couldn't believe her friend's father would do such a disgusting thing, but she decided to keep quiet for the sake of her friendship with Ginny. In the morning she realized she couldn't bear to face him again and confided in her mother.'

Max knew the Medical Officer well. Charles Clarkson had a brusque manner but he was a first-rate doctor. The word was that he had distinguished himself as a young medic in Bosnia, dealing with the horrendous inhumanity of that campaign with compassion and iron nerves. Had the stress of what he had seen and done there tardily overtaken him, as it had many men who had served in that campaign, and led him to act out of character? Clarkson was married to an attractive Portuguese, a devoted father of four. Surely not the type of man to molest a young patient, yet Max's profession had taught him anyone was capable of anything when driven to it.

‘Is she lying, George?'

He shrugged. ‘Melcher said she was putting on a good act, if she was, but teenage girls can make high drama of anything.'

‘If he did it, it
is
high drama,' Max pointed out. ‘He'll have seriously damaged his career. I can see why you want us to take over.'

‘It's a serious charge, sir.'

‘One that'll be the devil to deal with. Her word against his. No physical evidence if he simply stroked her with his fingers, as there could be if he had actually penetrated her, and there's no way of proving he spoke dirty words to her.' He sighed. ‘We'll investigate, George. The Laines have made an official charge that has to be dealt with.'

‘Mrs Laine was ready to lynch the Doc. Said she'd warn every mother there's a sex maniac in our midst.'

‘Bring him in. I'll interview him right away. The last thing we want is a swarm of maternal vigilantes marching to his house. The girl's father is away, I guess?'

‘Small Arms course. Back at the weekend.'

‘What rank is he?'

‘Sergeant, sir. Steady, reliable, collects suits of armour. He'll be hot on this.'

‘Like any father. Pity he's away. He might have put a clamp on some of the hysteria while we look into the charge.'

After detailing Connie Bush and Heather Johnson to interview Stacey and calm the mother, Max felt more himself than he had since Livya walked away from him this morning. Shifting forms and pamphlets from place to place had left him too much time to think and to question his actions. Now he must question another man's.

Major Charles Edwin Clarkson was a tall, swarthy, decisive man. When George Maddox brought him in fifteen minutes later, he was pale with shock, his dark eyes staring stonily as if at something beyond reality.

‘Sit down, Major,' said Max briskly.

The MO remained standing. ‘Was it really necessary to bring me here under escort, like a criminal? I thought you'd have the decency to afford me the privilege of rank and deal with this fiction in my surgery or home.'

‘Sit down, Major. The charge made against you is a serious one. The more you cooperate the sooner we can get to the bottom of what happened yesterday at the Laine house.'

‘
Nothing
happened!' he said forcefully.

When Max remained silent, Clarkson sat in the chair facing him. ‘I don't believe this. Why would she tell such lies? Christ, she's one of Ginny's little coterie of schoolfriends. Stacey's been to us for tea and for my kids' birthday parties. Jean Laine and my wife often chatted when she came to collect Stacey. We're all on easy terms.
Why
would she tell such lies?'

‘You were called by Mrs Laine to attend her sick daughter. Did she greet you in a friendly manner – on the easy terms you claim there are between you?'

‘Of course.'

‘First names?'

‘No, that's never been the case.'

‘But she was as friendly as she had always been?'

‘She was overly anxious. Since we had that meningitis scare on the base, all parents fear the worst when their child ails. Jean Laine betrayed all the symptoms of panic when I arrived.'

‘You just now said she was friendly.'

‘In as much as she gripped my arm and said she knew she could trust me to help her through this with Jeff away.'

‘Isn't that what most anxious mothers would do in the absence of their husbands?'

Clarkson glared. ‘I can't see the relevance of this. It's my treatment of the patient that's being questioned, isn't it?'

‘The patient was upstairs in her bedroom?'

‘Yes.'

‘In her nightclothes?'

‘Yes.'

‘Describe them.'

Anger flashed in the dark eyes still reflecting shock. ‘Not being a connoisseur of children's sleeping attire, all I can say is they were pyjamas similar to those my daughters wear.'

‘How did Stacey greet you?'

‘As always,' he replied pugnaciously.

‘And that is?'

‘She said “Hello, Major Doc.” It's what all my kids' friends call me. Then she put on something of an act I imagined was to impress her mother, and said she was feeling “utterly grotty”. There was a bit of head-rolling on the pillow and a few faint moans.'

‘You believed it was to impress her mother, not you?'

‘She knows me well enough to be sure it wouldn't.'

‘Go on.'

‘I knew immediately that she was suffering from the viral infection affecting ten other children at the school. It induces aggravated colic which drastically raises the temperature; symptoms that alarm the kids and their parents into believing it's something far more dangerous.'

‘And?'

‘
And
, I examined Stacey's abdomen, checked her pulse and temperature, asked if she had any pain in her limbs or her jaw, although I was certain of my initial diagnosis.'

‘Was her mother present during the examination?'

‘Of course, damn you,' Clarkson retaliated heatedly.

‘Did you lower the girl's pyjama trousers during the examination?'

Clarkson glared again. ‘How else could I feel her abdomen?'

‘It was necessary to do that?'

‘She had severe stomach cramps. Of course it was bloody necessary.'

‘How far down did you pull her pyjama trousers?'

‘I didn't expose the pubic area, if that's what you're getting at,' he snapped.

‘After the examination did you adjust the trousers, or did she?'

‘I nodded and said something like, “That's fine, thank you, Stacey.” Then I turned to Jean and told her there was nothing to worry about, it was simply a virus going the rounds. When I looked back at Stacey she . . .' He stopped and frowned. ‘She was still lying there with her body exposed.'

‘What happened then?' asked Max.

‘Nothing
happened
! What d'you take me for? I told her she could get under the duvet again because I'd finished my examination.'

‘Did she cover her stomach before pulling up the duvet?'

‘I've no idea. I explained to Jean that the sachets I took from my bag and gave to her contained a powder to be mixed with tepid water, and assured her they would alleviate the stomach cramps quite swiftly.'

‘Did you then send her downstairs to fetch a glass of water?'

‘No, I did not! I began to write a prescription for further sachets, but Jean rushed away to fetch water so that Stacey could take a dose immediately. As I said, parents panic unnecessarily.'

‘So you were alone with Stacey in her bedroom for around five minutes?'

Clarkson gazed at Max during a lengthening silence as the shock of what was happening hit him anew. ‘You don't believe these lies, do you?'

‘What I believe or not has no bearing on the case. A serious charge has been laid against you and I have to uncover the truth. You were alone with the girl long enough to act as she claims. Yes or no?'

‘
Yes
. I had time enough to ravish her, steal her junk jewellery, strangle her teddy bear, STAND ON MY HEAD,' he said, voice rough with anger. ‘But I continued writing the prescription for further medication while reassuring my daughter's friend she'd be bouncing back in a couple of days.
Nothing happened!
'