PADS #24

‘PADS.’ continued Elms oblivious to the anger and fragile state of Wyse.

‘PADS?’ started Wyse, before his pause recognised it might know the answer, ‘Oh no, you don’t mean, The Society do you?’

Elms nodded vigorously and cast searching glances up and down the street, seizing the opportunity Wyse slumped against the door. It quickly slammed shut and allowed his mind to slowly open as the mornings events flooded back. It had been their last night shift after a run of four and up to that moment it had been filled with normal ambulance fare. This involved an equal measure of drunken revellers determined to impart their night of fun upon them, whether it be vomit or blood. Along with the ancients in the community who were equally determined to recount their life histories upon you and why there was no reason for them to be on the floor pressing their care line buttons repeatedly.

They had only just left the boundaries of the newly built Bedlam Hospital, whose architectural influence had been the Victorian mental asylums, unfortunately this inspiration had also carried on with the staff. It was always with a sense of foreboding for his patients that Wyse discharged his patients to those apparently in charge of the Accident and Emergency department, sincerely wishing them the very best. Receiving their next call via the MDT, Wyse had relayed the information to Elms who had turned on blue lights and sirens driven like a madman despite Wyse’s protestations that it would be yet another normal call Elms had driven like a madman. This normal sequence of events had changed of course with the discovery of the victim, the police, Rogers, the humiliation and the excitable Elms contacting the Society.

‘The Society, the Purple Plus Amateur Detective Society. A group dedicated to justice and truth, who will stop at nothing until the perpetrators of unsolved heinous crimes are exposed and held accountable.’

 It was, a press release speech Wyse had practiced many times, allowing his voice to drop and accentuate key words for full impact. Unfortunately the additional groans and sighs included in this rendition were not intentional. He glanced at his pocket watch it was already five thirty, the meeting would have been arranged for six o’clock. It would normally take him at least half an hour to prepare himself properly to venture into public, a regime he prided himself upon although obviously it stopped short of a compulsion. Elms had resumed his polite knocking on the door and it became painfully clear he would wait patiently until Wyse was suitably presentable.

There was to be no escape from the dogged Elms he realised studying himself in the mirror. He had accepted the burden of high expectation from people at an early age and he knew in all humility he was an example to others, but if he had been told he would be leaving his house in such a dishevelled state to buy a newspaper, let alone to meet work colleagues he would have ascribed this to tales of a madman. He stooped to remove the discarded sherry bottle from the previous nights attempted absolution which had ended for reasons unbeknown to him in the hallway.