The Knowledge Stone (38 page)

Within that same magical microsecond, her actions were planned. In a fleeting whisper of movement, she would propel her slim, thinly-clad body across his lap, unmistakably offering him a sacrifice of utter submission. Then she would speak: ‘I accept my penance … Afterwards, forgive me … Please …’

These words of total capitulation would cut through his astonishment and fright and set the process of atonement in motion.

The woman in HR was very experienced and looked at Jana kindly: ‘Could you just sign this, Dear,’ she said, sliding paper and pen across the desk.

‘What is it?’ Jana asked calmly.

‘It’s the beginning of the dismissal procedure,’ the woman replied gently. Jana’s calm was replaced with alarm: ‘There must be some mistake,’ she said urgently, ‘I’m not being dismissed. He, HDC, said he’d changed his mind, that he’d forgiven me. He definitely said it.’

The woman looked at the papers in the folder: ‘There’s nothing in here about a change,’ she stated flatly.

‘Please, she said … Can you check? Can you ring him up?’

The woman was reluctant. ‘I don’t know if I have the authority to do that …’

Jana pleaded. She even fell to her knees in front of the woman and held up her clasped hands in a classical pose of supplication: ‘Please … he said he had forgiven me, he did, he really did …’

‘Get up, Dear, don’t be so distressed. I might get into trouble but I’ll do it, just for you.’

The woman picked up her phone and consulted an internal telephone directory: ‘Hello? Is this HDC? Good morning, Sir, this is Marta at HR. I am very sorry to disturb you but I have your girl Jana with me. That’s right, you referred her for dismissal. She insists that you’ve changed your mind. I thought I’d better check. I know it’s not normal procedure but I thought …’ Silence while the woman listened, then: ‘Yes, Sir, I understand completely. No, it’s absolutely no problem for HR. I am so sorry I had to disturb you. Thank you for speaking to me. Goodbye, Sir.’

For a moment, the woman looked down at the papers on her desk and then she lifted her head to look sadly at Jana: ‘Sorry, Dear. You must have misunderstood. Could you sign the paper …’

The day was unpleasant, dank and drizzly. The small disconsolate figure of Jana slipped almost guiltily through the large glass entrance doors of the Firm for the last time, agonisingly divested of her coveted ID card. Head down, document case in hand, she began to trudge slowly towards the bus station. On reaching it she did not board a bus but sat down on one of the many benches near the ticket offices. Buses came and went but Jana continued to sit motionless on her bench, unaware of the bustle and activity around her. After half an hour or so, she rose to her feet, left the bus station by its main entrance and began to walk purposefully along the busy road which led away from the town centre. After just a few hundred metres she stopped and leaned pensively against a stout, well-constructed wooden gate. Here, she raised her eyes and gazed into the distance, seeing nothing, totally preoccupied with two sentences that continued to spin endlessly, round and round in her brain: ‘Here is your Dismissal Pack, Dear. I’m sorry we cannot offer you a reference – we have a responsibility to the business community, you know.’

Still leaning on the gate, Jana felt her inner resolve strengthening. After all, she had always been a completely level-headed person, hadn’t she? Good at making decisions. Always able to cope with whatever life threw at her.

Now she put her thoughts into unspoken words: ‘I’m bound to feel like this right now. It’s really awful to feel such a failure. And I thought I was doing so well. I never thought I could make such a dreadful mistake.’ After a few seconds, a fleeting smile lit up her young face. Then, for the first time since she left the Firm, she spoke out loud, stirring words of encouragement and decision addressed solely to herself: ‘Come on, decision made, time to get going; time to start solving these problems!’

With these words, the girl opened the gate resolutely and walked steadily forward for about three metres before turning at right angles and standing quite still to look straight into the shocked eyes of the train driver, as his white-knuckled hand strained to pull the handle of the Emergency Train Brake Lever beyond its maximum.

Train brakes, even Emergency Train Brakes, are not known for their speed of action; this is because they are attempting to overcome the momentum of hundreds of tonnes of rapidly moving metal.

The Coroner had received six folders in the afternoon of the previous day and, in accordance with his usual practice, was working through them in order.

‘Case Number 3. Ah, yes, the girl on the railway line.’ He located the Police Report and read it carefully. Then he removed the stack of photographs from a large envelope and flipped through them. There were several photographs of the girl; large, starkly focussed images of a disturbingly life-sized, impossibly twisted rag-doll lying beside bleak rail tracks. Then two photographs of her only possessions, found later under the train; a crushed document case containing a small leather bag of feminine essentials, a splintered mobile phone and a large torn envelope, spilling papers; everything heavily stained by the remnants of dismembered tomato sandwiches.

The man turned next to the Autopsy Report. Death was instantaneous and caused by “multiple external and internal injuries to the head and body (listed).” There was an envelope of photographs but the Coroner set them aside; he had seen so many mangled bodies stretched pathetically naked on the pitiless stainless steel of autopsy tables. The Toxicology Report showed no alcohol or drugs in the body. Stomach contents were normal. There was no evidence of sexual activity. The Coroner was about to close the folder and pass on to the next case when a final item caught his eye. It read: ‘Unrelated injuries: There was extensive bruising to the buttocks. This injury had been sustained 12 to 24 hours previous to death – see photographs, Envelope D.’ The Coroner located Envelope D and held it in his hands. Then he laid it aside without opening it.

‘No one ever knows what goes on behind closed doors,’ he said quietly, shaking his head sadly.

In practiced official tones, the policeman and the pathologist confirmed the evidence in their reports and stood down. The train driver was called and took the Witness Stand, still white with shock: ‘She just appeared from nowhere, Sir, looked straight at me – I’ll never forget those eyes. Of course I applied the Emergency Train Brake as soon as I saw her but we were doing 100 kilometres per hour – that’s the designated speed on that stretch of line. The train took 437 metres to stop. I got out of the cab and ran back, meeting my Guard along the way. We found her beside the track, hopelessly smashed, broken, dead.’ Tears welled into the man’s eyes.

‘I heard the impact, you know. You wouldn’t think you would – hundreds of tonnes of steel against a little light girl like that – but I heard it and I felt it too. I still do …’

Now the man was weeping openly.

Julian, tight-lipped, shifty and uncomfortable – unequivocally instructed to attend by the Senior Partner – confirmed that the girl had been dismissed from the Firm on the morning of that day. Why? There had been a serious problem. He did not know all the details. Such things are handled by the Human Resources Department of the Firm. Could he add that the Senior Partner of the Firm had asked him to extend his deepest condolences to the girl’s family? He looked towards her parents sitting in the court, two shrunken traumatised figures, frozen in absolute disbelief.

The Coroner summed up and concluded:

‘This was a great tragedy. A terrible waste of a young life. Perhaps the law firm should review its dismissal procedures to ensure that vulnerable staff are suitably supported at such traumatic times.’ Julian looked at the floor and gritted his teeth.

Finally, the verdict: ‘That she took her own life while the balance of her mind was disturbed.’

‘Obviously, as Senior Staff, neither Margarite or I could take any of the direct blame. That would have been very bad for the whole Firm and could have led to a general loss in morale in the Department. As HDC, I am afraid I just could not allow that to happen.’

Now he felt better!

Julian’s next thoughts were about Margarite: ‘Poor Margarite! I know she was rather fond of that girl. I hope this doesn’t make her unhappy and angry with me for insisting on dismissing Jana. I don’t want our relationship to be damaged by what has happened. We’re thoroughly used to each other now and I don’t want to be forced into finding another partner. I’ll just have to be extra charming to her. I know – I’ll get her some flowers. That always works.’

A few minutes later, Julian had entered the flower shop near the law firm building and soon emerged with a large bunch of red roses which he carried into the Firm’s underground car park.

‘I had better leave these flowers in the car and give them to her when we get home. If I took them into the office, everyone would wonder why I have bought her flowers. They might suspect it has something to do with Jana and I want to dampen all that down as soon as possible.’

The flowers seemed to work. Margarite was very pleased to receive them; even more pleased that Julian should have thought about her so lovingly. Nevertheless, she remained in a quiet and introspective mood. In truth, she had been deeply shaken by what had happened. Of course she was very upset by Jana’s untimely death but somehow the terrible suicide seemed remote and unreal. By contrast, the sequence of events in the Office was terrifyingly vivid, a dreadful procession that led inexorably to the girl’s dismissal in disgrace.

Margarite knew the quality of Jana’s work and, although she had queried Julian’s selection of the girl as Base Co-ordinator for this very important task, she had been pleased that he had appeared to recognise the girl’s talents. She was even more pleased to see how Jana proceeded to organise the work. It had been a large and complex document pack to set up and it took considerable time and manpower. Several times, Jana had spotted that wrong documentation had been brought in by her colleagues and initiated the necessary rectification procedures. When all had been assembled and checked by Jana, Margarite had taken the heavy pack away for the DHDC check and found only very minor errors – the odd document slightly out of date order.

Margarite knew that the Formal Contract was certainly in place during her check. There was absolutely no doubt about this; this was a very important document in the pack and she could actually remember seeing it. After she had completed her comprehensive and meticulous check, she had signed it off as DHDC, closed the pack up and returned it to Jana’s desk. This was routine procedure. After the disaster, when the document was found behind the filing cabinet, Julian had proposed that Jana must have opened the pack again, for some reason removed the Formal Contract sheet and placed it temporarily on top of the filing cabinet nearest to her desk. From there, the sheet had somehow fallen down the back of the cabinet where it was completely concealed from view.

That Jana would have done such a thing was completely illogical; not only illogical but dangerous, because this would be interfering with the pack after the DHDC check – something the staff were forbidden to do. Margarite knew that Jana would never have disobeyed orders. In any event, she was sure that the girl would never have separated a single document from any pack and placed it temporarily on top of a general-use cabinet away from her desk. Finally, no one, not even Julian, could explain how this crisp, heavy sheet of paper fell down the back of the cabinet; the building was sealed and air-conditioned and the General Office of DC was never subject to sudden gusts of wind!

Margarite’s final thought concerned Julian himself and this made her feel very uncomfortable. The Record Sheet indicated that Julian had carried out the final HDC check. Why did this final check not reveal the absence of the document? Love and embarrassment prevented Margarite from following this particular thought process any further. Instead, she shook her head in sorrow and despair and concluded: ‘It really doesn’t add up.’ Then, with considerable effort, she forced her mind away from the catastrophe: ‘I really must snap out of this, for Julian’s sake. It was lovely of him to buy me flowers. I must cheer up.’

With Jana gone, DC was now short-staffed. After a week had passed, Julian and Margarite met to initiate a new recruitment exercise. Newspaper adverts were placed by HR, responses received and passed to HDC for consideration. Subsequently, Julian and Margarite met again to decide on a short-list of candidates.

‘This boy Alain will take some beating,’ Julian said decisively, ‘did you see his qualifications?’

Margarite had also been impressed by this particular candidate. ‘I agree. Maybe it would be a good idea to interview him first?’

‘Yes. I agree to that. Could you set it up for next week? We’ll interview the other four after we’ve seen him.’

The day of the first interview arrived. The candidate Alain arrived at the front desk in good time for his interview and, in due course was conducted to Julian’s office where Julian and Margarite were waiting. Alain impressed at first sight, being a tall, good-looking boy of eighteen, confident and well-spoken. The interview explored his education, motivation, other achievements and interests. His replies were intelligent and comprehensive, expressed in clear, respectful tones. Interview over, did he have any questions?