Free Spanish Inquisition by Elizabeth Darrell Page A

their clothes for personal items and found in his wallet a photograph of himself and a girl with their arms round each other. She’s Maria Norton.’
    â€˜Ah,’ breathed Max, his interest rising. ‘Is he the one with a wife on the way?’
    â€˜No. The Andrews are officially separated. They’re Catholics; don’t agree with divorce.’
    â€˜Mmm, got a football team of kids, I suppose.’
    â€˜Four, sir. They and their mother are back in Ireland.’
    â€˜Handy! Nothing to stop him fathering more children with other women. I’d say he’s a strong candidate for this assault charge. Are Babs and Jerry still at the clinic?’
    George nodded. ‘It’s a small place used by the wealthy. They’re not too happy about British soldiers using their luxury rooms.’ He added dryly, ‘They’d probably tolerate officers more easily. Their main concern seems to be who’s going to foot the bill.’
    â€˜They’re copying the American practice of refusing to treat a casualty unless they have iron-clad proof of payment?’
    â€˜Oh no, sir, our guys are getting the best attention. I guess the clerical staff are faced with a situation they’re unfamiliar with and are panicking somewhat over the finances.’
    Max scowled. ‘Anyone arriving at a hospital in the UK is treated for free, regardless of nationality, creed or condition. Are we a supremely humane nation, or dozy pushovers?’
    â€˜I think I’ll pass on that one,’ replied George, then addressed the subject most concerning him. ‘You’ll want to question Staff Andrews about his link with Norton, so can I hand the three casualties over to SIB? Tom and I were discussing that when you arrived. We’ve done the ground work, and if you’re going to chase the relevance of that photograph . . .’
    â€˜It won’t mean we’re relieving you of the RTA,’ Max intervened firmly.
    â€˜That’s what I told him,’ said Tom.
    George was tenacious. ‘Look, sir, the West Wilts are returning from Afghanistan tomorrow. You know what it’s like when guys have been on active service and haven’t had a beer for six months. Or a woman. The married ones are OK. It’s the single guys who descend on the town and cause trouble. I’ve Styles on sick leave, and Morecombe in the UK on his bloody
honeymoon
. What does he want with that nonsense when he’s been shagging Moira for the past three years? So I’m short-staffed just when some top brass are arriving for a high-powered conference.’
    â€˜Oh? When?’
    â€˜Day after tomorrow. Far as we know they’re coming to parley with the West Wilts commanders on the up-to-date situation out there.’ He pulled a wry face. ‘Safer to do it here than wearing a flak jacket in a war zone. They still need guarding, of course, which’ll leave me short of men for patrols down town.’
    Max understood the problem. The six-monthly changeover of deployed troops was always a hectic time, and this would be the first since the arrival of the Scottish Drumdorran Fusiliers, whose addition had the base practically splitting at the seams. The uniformed squad had consequently been augmented by just two corporals, in accordance with the latest defence cuts. SIB’s strength had stayed the same, which was another reason for clearing Piercey of the assault charge as soon as possible. And for himself to resume command, thought Max.
    He turned to Tom. ‘As we need to question Staff Andrews in connection with the Norton case, I suggest we keep tabs on all three at that clinic. Until they bring Andrews from the induced coma, we should send Connie to see what she can get from the one who’s lucid enough to be questioned. She’s an expert at coaxing men to confess all.’
    A long moment passed before Tom asked, ‘Are we talking official or just doing a