Influence (8 page)

Permanently Restricted

Chapter Nine

Foster sat in the waiting room of the Force's Occupational Health Department feeling a sense of apprehension and betrayal. Within days of the team's return from the court hearing, Inspector Balham had called Foster into his office and stated that he wanted him to see the force doctor prior to being given the all clear to return to full operational duties. The conversation had taken Foster by complete surprise and he had a meltdown in Balham's office, throwing a glass across the room and smashing it. Balham being the calm man he was, didn't react  to it and gently told Foster that he had not been himself since the shooting and that it would be beneficial for him to see a professional who specialised in stress related issues. Foster shouted at Balham, accusing him of trying to send him to a shrink. Pissed off and upset, Foster left his office knowing that he would have to play ball or lose his hard earned place on the unit. At the behest of the Inspector he went on a short period of sick leave to await his appointment with a psychiatrist.

The following week Foster attended a private mental health assessment at The Abbey Clinic in the expensive end of town that was funded by the Police Federation. There was no way Foster would suffer the long waiting list to see an NHS Psychiatrist, especially when all he wanted to do was to return to operational duties so he approached the Federation for help. Despite knowing that he had no choice in the matter, he still found it unbelievable that Balham requested it. Foster knew deep down that he had not been himself at times but it did not stop him from feeling as though everyone had it in for him, a belief that had slowly been building in his mind over the previous months.

Foster was called in from the waiting area of the large former Victorian house that had been converted into the Abbey clinic, by a young and friendly Psychiatrist by the name of Dr Tom Banks. As Foster stood up he smiled at the pleasant red haired receptionist who he had considered asking out but changed his mind when he suddenly began to worry that she would think he was there because he was mad.

“Hello Anthony, I'm Dr Banks. What we're going to be doing here today is discussing how you have been feeling recently. I'm not here to make a diagnosis of any kind today, I just want to establish how you've been coping,” he said in an empathetic tone.

“Look, I'm here because I have no choice. There's nothing wrong with me, so let’s get this bollocks over with”. Foster snapped. The appointment had barely started but he was already growing tired of it.

After that appointment, Foster had been required to attend a number of follow up appointments, something he put down to the clinic trying to pinch more of the federation's money. However as the appointments progressed, Dr Banks began to slowly establish a detailed family history of mental illness, childhood trauma and a degree of delusional and paranoid thinking that was exacerbated by alcohol consumption.

Now he was sat in the Occupational Health Department waiting to be seen by the Force Medical Examiner (the force's dedicated doctor) who would examine and assess his suitability to remain as an operational police officer. Foster was in a depressed state and felt as though he was awaiting his execution. In the two months since he had been assessed, Foster had lost his firearms permit and been placed on sick leave with nothing to do except climb the walls of his flat.

Foster was finally called into the doctor's office and asked to sit down. He reflected on how the doctor appeared a little distant and preoccupied that day. He had seen him a few times over the course of his mental health assessments and had taken a dislike to him as a result of his negative attitude towards him returning back to duty. Foster was convinced that he had it in for him, especially when he repeatedly heard the doctor make underhand comments underneath his breath. 

“What did you just say? If you have something to say, just come out and say it rather than whispering it!” Foster enquired angrily after he believed that the doctor had said something under his breath again.

“Anthony I didn't say anything, we've spoken about this before, I wouldn't say anything derogatory to you, it's just the auditory hallucinations. It will get better with the right treatment and care, I promise. OK, we've received Dr Bank's diagnosis and prognosis letter and I'm here today to discuss your options” the doctor commented in an empathetic tone. Foster shook his head at him with contempt.

The doctor asked him if he had read it, Foster rolled his eyes and nodded back at him, he knew full well the bullshit that was in it. The moment he laid eyes on it, he knew that everyone was conspiring against him, including the federation, to have him removed from the Force and blamed for the Mahood shooting. Ever since the shooting he had heard them whispering in dark corners and plotting against him. There was no one left he could trust.

The doctor discussed Foster's treatment with him and asked whether the medication had been helping, to which Foster replied that they had; even though he had only taken them for a couple of days after deciding that he didn't need them. He then asked Foster if he'd had any visual hallucinations which caused Foster to ask with annoyance why the doctor kept mentioning hallucinations. After numerous questions about his family and friends that he did not see any more, the doctor finished up by explaining to Foster that he would be placed on permanent restricted duties and that he would only be allowed to carry out office work in the future. In addition he would be advising the Force that Foster was eligible for medical retirement and that the option should be explored due to Fosters aversion to being stuck in an office environment.

Foster sat there stunned and asked the doctor why he was going to write that when it wasn't the truth. The doctor softened his expression and explained that Dr Bank's report and Fosters refusal to accept his condition and unwillingness to fully participate in his treatment meant that he would struggle to hold down a busy job within the Police Service. He also reminded Foster that he himself had remarked that he would rather die than work in an office for the rest of his career. Foster did not comment and just sat there staring into space which prompted the doctor to explain it in more compassionate terms.

“Anthony I know it's very difficult for you and I know that you believe everyone's against you, but it's not the case. You are suffering from a nasty illness that without medication will make things very difficult for you. You need to fully involve yourself in your treatment to help improve your quality of life. Look I know you wanted to stay operational, but it just can't happen, this is the best option. It's now up to the organisation as to whether they retain you as a permanently restricted duties disabled officer, and they might if you want them to.” The doctor explained.

“I knew you all wanted me out. The second I pulled the trigger I knew what was going to happen. They told me you'd do this, try to tarnish me and have me booted out. Well bollocks to the lot of you, I'll have the last laugh!” snarled Foster.

“Who told you Anthony? If you're hearing voices you need to speak to Dr Banks, and please keep taking your medication, it really is the best thing for you. Things will get better, I promise, just try to reflect on your thoughts and emotions, don't them get out of control. Look after yourself.”

“Whatever, I think you need to look after yourself first.” he responded before quickly standing up to leave. As he reached the door, he paused and then asked the doctor whether he could have the copy of Dr Banks' letter as he had lost his, the doctor nodded and handed him it before repeating for Foster to look after himself.

Foster pulled an insincere smile and picked up the report before he walked out of the room without saying goodbye. He walked out into the car park and towards his car, a Lotus Elise, something that had added to his financial woes when he had bought it. Foster stared at his pride and joy before he suddenly kicked the driver’s door as hard as he could in a rage, denting it in the process. Foster looked down at Dr. Banks report, feeling disgusted at how everyone was trying to ruin him. He finished reading the report and tore it up into tiny pieces in anger. The scattered pieces of paper fell at his feet and were then blown around the carp park by the brisk breeze. Foster hadn't really needed to read it again, what was on the paper would be burnt into his memory forever..........

The Abbey Clinic

Specialists in Mental Health Services

Occupational Health Department                                                                                 

City Police HQ                                                                                                                                                  

Patient number: AF:1000230

Dear Insp Balham and the Force Medical Examiner.

I am PC Anthony Foster's primary care psychiatrist who was appointed by the Police Federation. Over the past seven weeks I have been carrying out a range of psychological assessments to establish Anthony's mental condition and wellbeing. He was not always forthcoming with answering questions during these sessions, however I believe I was able to make certain important observations.

During the appointments I established the following facts, Anthony has a history of mental illness on his maternal side, and although he could not be sure of the diagnosis he did allude to the possibility that it may have been Schizophrenia. He was subjected to trauma and drug abuse as a teenager, and of course most recently the incident on duty as a firearms officer.

From the outcome of the tests, it is my observation that there is strong evidence to support the assumption that Anthony is suffering from a mental health disorder namely Schizophrenia (paranoid sub type with a degree of disorganised sub type). He also displays the clinical presentation of Dissociative Identity Disorder, formerly Multiple Personality Disorder. Both of these disorders can be highly debilitating in nature if left untreated. Anthony's main symptom presentation ranges from delusional and disorganised thinking, audio hallucinations, anxiety and severe mood swings, through to dissociative amnesia.

As part of his treatment plan Anthony is being prescribed a 400mg daily dose of Chlorpromazine to help control his symptoms. However this will need to be reviewed at regular intervals in order to ascertain its effectiveness. Although patients with these two disorders can live productive lives with the correct balance of medication, therapy and effective lifestyle parameters, thus far Anthony is struggling with the diagnosis and is therefore somewhat removed and unwilling to accept it. This is not uncommon and can improve with the right help and time.

Overall, his prognosis is to be closely guarded until we have pursued all of the available treatment methods. However I think it is safe to say that it would be highly unlikely that he would be able to function as a police officer in the future. The main obstacle to an improvement in Anthony's condition is his developing alcohol abuse. At this stage there is no evidence to suggest drug abuse, but I feel that this is something that will have to be monitored in the future.

If there is any further clarification required on this matter, please do not hesitate to contact me.

Yours sincerely,

Signed electronically to avoid delay.

Dr Tom Banks

Consultant Psychiatrist

The Abbey Group.

Operation Spear

Chapter Ten

Anaura made his way through the corridors that led to the station's Command Officers Suite. It was mid-July and four months since DCI Steiner had attended his office and informed him of the Gang operation, and yet there was no movement or word on when everything would start. It was time for him to ask what was going on.

“Bloody hell, come in.” Steiner said from within his office in the command suite after Anaura had knocked on it hard and repeatedly.

“How's it going Jason?” Anaura enquired.

“Ah Peter, I know what you're here for! Take a seat.” He said with a smile.

He sat down and waited to be advised on whether the delay meant the operation had been cancelled. Steiner began reassuring him that everything was still on and that the long delay had been down to a few political and financial issues. Anaura probed Steiner to learn more about the nature of the issues. Steiner shook his head before he told Anaura how certain members in command, namely Drayson, had raised some questions about whether the expensive operation was appropriate given the previous failures and when the force was currently going through harsh financial cuts. Steiner smiled and said that in the end the Chief had signed it off and Drayson had to go along with it, something he allegedly was not happy about.

Anaura wasn't surprised as to the identity of the saboteur. He knew that the moment Drayson discovered that he would be heading the investigation up, he would want it postponed or cancelled. There was no way that Drayson would want Anaura claiming all the glory, especially when it was busting the county's biggest organised crime syndicate; something he had failed to do or get close to during his tenure as head of the Serious and Organised Crime Unit.

“Monday 22
nd
July, that's when we'll begin! Are you ready for it Peter?”

Anaura replied that he had been ready for months since the day the Job had been mentioned to him.

“Christ that's not long away! So what's the op name Jason?” he enquired.

“Operation Spear, do you like it?”

“Ha ha, who wouldn't, it's a good name. Let’s hope that spear ends up in a few places where the sun doesn't shine” Anaura said with a pleased look on his face before leaving the command suite.

As he walked back to the Vice Office, he felt a sense of smugness that Drayson's attempts to prevent the operation had failed. If they had to be one person who would have tried to throw a spanner in the works it would have been Drayson.

On his arrival back in the Vice Office, he was greeted by Valera and Usher who were asking him for his authorisation to carry out a search in the home of a local pimp who had been arrested on suspicion of possessing marijuana with the intent to supply. Anaura signed the search form and asked the two women whether they fancied something a little more interesting to do than chasing pimps.

“Errrrrrr I think you want to be telling us what it is, yeah!!” Usher said win a mock American gangster accent that reflected her fun loving personality.

“Mmmmmm, what did you have in mind sir?” Valera asked with an air of sexual innuendo.

Anaura smiled and then told the two detectives that it was a better job than the one they were currently dealing with and how Valera would really, really enjoy doing it! The comment caused her to blush deeply as she hadn't anticipated Anaura reciprocating with another innuendo. The detectives looked at each other and then replied that they were up for it.

“Settled then! The two of you and Ian will be on an operation with me from next week, pass the pimp job onto Carl Langford and clear your desks of any rubbish jobs you have left, you won't have a chance to deal with them!” Anaura said.

“Nice one.......! Who are we after sir?” Usher asked with her usual exuding enthusiasm.

He replied by telling her to be patient as all would be explained on the 22
nd
but insisted that they wouldn't be disappointed when they found out what it was. The funny thing was that Anaura was telling them to be patient despite being like an excited child himself inside.

“Go on then, get your work sorted. Scram!” Anaura ordered in a playful tone as he walked back into his office.

Inside his office Richards was sat waiting to hear whether the operation was still on or not. Anaura walked in without saying a word, knowing that the suspense would drive Richards mad.

“Well?” Richards asked with a desperately inquisitive tone.

“Well what Ian?” Anaura replied with a smile.

Richards crossed his legs like a pregnant woman trying to stop herself from peeing through laughter, calling Anaura a bastard and begging him to spill the beans. Anaura sat in his chair, enjoying the power that came with the knowledge afforded to him.

“22
nd
of July mate, that's when 'Op Spear' will officially begin!” Anaura said, leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his head.

Richards clenched his fist and shook it with excitement. After the very long wait they finally had a start date. In less a week they would finally get a chance to build a decent case against the county's biggest crime syndicate and hopefully put them away. Anaura updated Richards that he was going to have Valera and Usher seconded onto the case too, due to their investigative talent and understanding of Surveillance Ops, the result of the two detectives having spent six months attached to the unit and being his two best officers. Richards whole heartedly agreed and put forward that he thought Langford should assume the role of acting Sergeant on Vice while they were gone. Anaura nodded and cited that it was better to have an experienced detective constable in Vice running the show than an inexperienced Inspector!

Anaura rubbed his hands together, daydreaming with the thought of finally locking up the Gang. It was time for these four arseholes to go down, and Anaura believed he was going to be the man to do it. With the solid 'copper's copper' DCI Steiner running the show at Command level, and Anaura as the grass roots boss, things were shaping up so that the 'spear' would most definitely and painfully end up where the sun didn't shine!

That night with a spring in his step, Anaura returned home on time for once. The second he walked in through the front door, the amazing smell of Laura's cooking hit him. She had cooked lamb (New Zealand Lamb to be exact) tagine; it was just the type of dish that he felt would round off such a brilliant day.

“You've spoilt dinner Peter, it's going to be hot now, how will you eat it like that, it's not cold?!” Laura said in a sarcastic but playful tone aimed at his early return from work.

Anaura gave her a flirtatious wink and walked over to sample the dinner that was waiting for him. With just a sip of the sauce he knew it was going to be perfect, and yet he couldn't help winding Laura up with a cheeky remark about it needing more salt. She reacted by picking up the closest cooking utensil to hand and smacking him across the backside with it. At first Anaura laughed until he realised that she had swiped a little too hard and that he could now feel a burning like sting radiating from his right buttock. Laura smiled smugly and told him to be a good boy or there would be more of that. Anaura replied, with a smile, that he bloody hoped not as one smack had been sufficient!

Anaura left the kitchen and went upstairs to say goodnight to his two young children, Anya and William. The moment he entered each of their rooms he knew that it had been a bad idea as they leapt out of bed with excitement. He loved the two of them more than words could describe and wished that his hectic job would allow him spend more time with them. He sat on the edge of their beds and asked them about school which was met with the usual reply of “Boring!!” from the pair of them. He could have stayed there with them for hours, talking or having fun, but he knew that it would not be long before Laura told him off for keeping them awake. If there was one thing that Anuara was set on, it was making sure that he didn't interfere with the kid's routine, at the end of the day it would not be him dealing with tired, grumpy kids the next day. There were times though when he considered the possibility of Laura returning to work and him leaving the police. Financially it would make sense due to the money she could earn, not to mention that he would get to spend a lot more time with the kids, but it would mean that Laura would be sucked into her previous hectic, London work life and the kids would then see less of her; either way they would lose one parent to a demanding job. And besides, Anuara's cooking skills were hardly Jamie Oliver standard; in fact they were diabolical. The overall end result of him becoming a stay at home dad would have meant one thing, the kids would be have been suffering from malnutrition within weeks. It was probably best that they kept things how they were, for the time being it worked and Laura felt empowered by shunning the business woman life by becoming a mum. Something which angered some of her clients and colleagues who declared that she was becoming a slave of a patriarch society by becoming a house wife. If there was one thing that would made Laura furious, it was when other women inferred that being a mother or a housewife was something to be viewed as negative and anti-feminist.

Anuara said 'night' to the kids and returned to Laura in the kitchen who had laid the aromatic dinner out onto the table. Over a glass of red wine and the Moroccan tagine they discussed the usual nonsensical and random conversational topics that as a couple they were known for. Anaura and Laura could literally talk for Britain; even if it was a load of rubbish they were spouting.

“So Peter, come on, out with it! You've been smiling like the Cheshire cat all evening. What's going on?” She enquired with a slightly raised right eyebrow. Anaura instantly felt turned on, the raised eyebrow expression she had made her look like a naughty secretary flirting with the boss.

“The operation; It's on!” Anuara said with a huge beaming smile. Generally speaking officers were not meant to discuss work related issues with anyone outside of the job, however Anaura, like most other officers, still told his partner everything unless it was something top secret.

Laura was really pleased for him and leant over to give him a kiss on the lips. She knew how long he had been waiting for the Operation, or any job like it, for quite a while. As they continued talking she told Anaura that he had her full support and if he was required to work over and above his normal hours, she and the kids would be OK with it. As always, Laura's devotion made him remember why he loved her so much and was one of the reasons that he was starting to consider a quieter role in another unit in order to be able to be at home more. However for the moment, Op Spear was calling him.

Laura gave him a huge proud smile and stood up to take the dishes over to the sink. Just as she was about to start rinsing them, she felt Anaura come up behind her and start kissing her neck softly with his large muscled chest pressing into her back. Whatever it was in his pocket that was thrusting into her toned and pert backside, it was obvious that he was very, very happy to see her. Anaura partially lifted up her top and tenderly kissed the tattoo on her lower back, sending goose bumps rapidly popping up around her whole body. He pulled the top of her jeans down slightly further and firmly kissed the crease and top of her bum before spinning her around and kissing her on the lips. Laura felt electrified as he grabbed her hips and pulled her in close to him, she could have melted right there. He then maintained eye contact with her as he pressed her up against the work top. His arousal clear to see; and feel.

“I'll do the dishes later, Laura-Anaura!” He said in a deep playful tone, making fun of her rhyming names.

Shaking hard with excitement, Laura found it hard to catch her breath as he suddenly lifted her up off the floor as though she only weighed the same as a couple of bags of sugar. His strong arms wrapped tightly around her and his right hand firmly caressed her left bum cheek through her tight jeans. It was now clear to see through Laura's top that she was happy to see him too.

“Mmmmm! I've been thinking about this all day!” She said in a jittery voice.

Anaura carried her up the stairs and over the threshold of their bedroom, like a groom would with his bride..............................and closed the door!