The Fowler and His Net – Chapter 11

Gary’s world of dreaming continued to be made up of odd nightmares and it was during one, where he was being pushed and pulled by trees in a forest, from which he woke with a start, sweating and in a panic. His first waking moments were spent adjusting to this new reality and at first he imagined that the forest torment existed here too, but it was not long before a new concern started to grow, there was more light than usual and he winced his eyes. There was also a new antiseptic smell, like a hospital. He had been covered in a blanket. Had he been drugged again? Where was he now? There was a noise, like a gaggle of geese that echoed around. He moved his arms, and heard the tinkle of the chains that held him. He moved his head and felt slight tugs on each side of his forehead where some kind of weight was on the skin. Lots of things were different, and his limited brain power gradually processed what they were.

The cackling echo quietened, and a single thread of noise warbled. The cacophony returned and Gary became aware that it was laughter.

‘Six days, you say?’ a recognisable, yet unfamiliar voice spoke, ‘It would have been easier, were the subject not so lean I think. Have you been feeding him well?’

‘I assure you that the calorie intake had been within requirements.’ The second voice he knew. It was the Colonel.

‘And the correction?’ a third voice asked, ‘has that also been… within requirements?’ This voice was female and mildly sarcastic. It struck a chord with him and was an old memory, one that felt forbidden.

‘We have Dr. Matthews to thank for the specification with regard to that, is that not correct, Dr. Matthews.’

‘Colonel Mortimer? Oh, yes, oh, yes. I have reviewed the activity catalogue,’ a new, fast paced voice began, ‘and I must say, it has exceeded anything that I thought sufficient.’

‘It is a treatment in which we all have a great deal of faith, Dr. Matthews, in which, I must say, you have played a significant part.’

The fourth voice flustered with embarrassment. ‘Oh, well, I must say…Colonel… it has er…been a group effort, really, and so much was done by my predecessor.’ It replied falteringly.

‘I can’t help but think that a significant factor is missing Dr. Matthews.’ The first voice stated with authority.

Dr. Matthews was uncomfortable with such a confrontation and responded nervously. ‘We… well, it… was part of our initial…’. Her speech tailed away.

‘I think what Dr. Matthew’s is trying to say, is that your useful suggestion of nutritional surplus was part of our initial studies, but to our very great surprise, did not contribute significantly to our data.’

‘Thank you Colonel, yes, we tried it, but it resulted in, shall we say, poor results.’

‘Well, that is disappointing obviously,’ the first voice, replied. ‘Naturally, the result set is available to all of the project sponsors? Social services has a large stake in this enterprise.’

‘Oh, naturally…’ replied Dr. Matthews.

‘Naturally.’ Replied the Colonel, almost simultaneously.

‘As have the constabulary,‘ replied the familiar second voice. ‘The Chief Superintendent…’ she paused, seemingly indicating another person in the room, ‘Has the view that this process Is fundamental to the force’s future plans.’

‘We thank both of you for your support.’ The Colonel answered.

‘Yes, well,’ the familiar female voice answered, ‘there is opposition to the more liberal processes that we all believe in Colonel, and we can only fight against those forces and hope.’

‘Amen, to that.’ The Colonel replied.

‘Now then! What’s all this ‘ere yackin’?’ a new fifth voice interrupted.

‘Super, we were just discussing the efficacy of the more enlightened treatments on the criminal mind.’ replied the familiar voice.

‘Aye, it’s a chuffin’ far cry from when I were a young’n I can tell yer…’

‘We must all move with the times, Chief Superintendent.’ The voice replied irritably.

‘Aye, well, Chief Inspector Watts!’ the newcomer answered, ‘It makes a bloody mess ‘o my day ‘avin te listen to all them voices shartin… treatment this…punishment that.. it’s enough te send a man on’t juice I can tell ye.’

‘Watts!’ Yes, Gary remembered. That was the policewomen who had first charged him all of those years ago when he was no more than a boy. He remembered her very well. The repressed looks of lust, the quickly withdrawn hand on his strong youthful shoulders. Yes, even as a sixteen year old, he understood he held a strange power over these types of women. Now his eyes had become used to the bright light, he lifted his head to look at the new company; and there she was, hair in a tight bun, a pair of wing glasses, a good figure, made less alluring by the uniform. He looked down as far as he could, the woman’s skirt had ridden up slightly and revealed the lace of her stocking tops. She immediately pulled the hem of her skirt down to straighten out the creases. Even all of these years later, he could remember her in those far off days, having this problem.

The now Chief Inspector Watts was obviously irritated by the lower class nature of her superior and failed in her suppression of her prejudice. ‘It must be very difficult to hold such a powerful position considering that…’

‘Aye, aye…’ interrupted the man. ‘considering that?’

‘You deal with so many conflicting opinions in your everyday line of work.’ Her rescued reply was eyed with suspicion by the Chief Superintendent.

‘I didn’t get where I am today by ‘angin’ on’t word ‘o every poncey do-gooder that slunk into me’ office, lass!’ The robust reply was greeted with an uncomfortable silence. ‘But, that don’t mean I ‘aint never listened to it. Results, Watts. Results! That’s what matters!’

‘That is exactly what we wish to demonstrate Chief Superintendent.’ Replied the Colonel.

‘Aye, with this specimen.’ The older man pointed at Gary. ‘Bloody Fowlers. Bane o’ me life they were when I were a young copper!’

‘Yes sir, ‘ replied Watts, ‘but their last treatment was highly successful.’

‘I donno, ‘ replied the Chief, ‘they’re up to summat, that bloody eld’n is any how. And this ‘uns been back to ‘is old theivin’’

‘Not every treatment we have issued has been a success Chief Superintendent’ replied the Colonel, ‘and nor is that likely. The best we can hope for is that we are diligent with our approach and that we keep the success of results as they are currently, very high!’

The senior policeman replied grumpily ‘It won’t be no use if it all wears off Mortimer, like it ‘as fer young Charlie testicles here,‘ he pointed to Gary, ‘the last thing my boys need…,’ a glower from Chief Inspector Watts caused him to adopt more modern phraseology, ‘…last thing my boys and girls need, is a bloody crime epidemic from yer bloody experiments, there’s prisons empty and waitin’ fert likes ‘o Fowler.’

Now, Gary Fowler was not a student of criminal theory, however, if he was, he would have now seen why he was of such interest to Charles Mortimer. That man’s fear was that Gary might just be the start of problems that had arisen from whatever rectifying procedure Gary had undergone in the past. The young man had not been alone in this treatment. Many had undergone the Colonel’s therapy and many had been released into society. Any number of them might revert to their roguish ways. ‘The cost benefit analysis has been thoroughly scrutinized sir.’ The lawyer replied.

The Chief Superintendent was clever enough to know when he was being patronised, and clever enough to stay calm and use the situation. ‘That bloody Don Soper too, goin’ off on that lad like that. He’s been part of yer “Program” too, ain’t that right?’

‘There were mitigating circumstances in that case sir,’ whinnied the chief superintendent’s subordinate, ‘he did find his daughters…’ the woman straightened her skirt before delivering the phrase distasteful to herself ‘…en flagrante delicto’.

‘Aye, so I ‘ear.‘ Her senior colleague replied with a snigger. Surprisingly, considering the events of the previous week, the Chief Superintendent’s humour was not shared and the ensemble descended into an awkward middle class silence. It was broken by the entry of a very staid, respectable looking Samantha with her very childish looking daughter, innocently dressed in school uniform and with her hair divided into pigtails.

‘Ah, my dear, my dear, ‘ oozed the first voice, ‘You do look very pretty, very pretty, if just a little…’ he turned to Samantha . ‘You are providing enough nutrition for a growing girl?’

‘Oh, Mr. Bradshaw, I assure you she eats like an absolute horse.’

‘That is very reassuring, ‘ that man replied, ‘it is so important to a young child’s temperament.’

‘I always finish my dinner, Uncle Norman.’ Rachel replied, twisting on her front toe.

Gary lifted his head to observe the new company again. As he had laid back he had formulated an internal picture of the previously out of sight Mr. Bradshaw. On sight, he discovered that this picture was utterly incorrect. Mr. Bradshaw was almost painfully thin and very tall, almost stooping in the low cellar.

‘I never doubted it my dear, delightful girl.’ He moved inappropriately close to the teenager, ‘I have some sweets with me, would you like one?’ before she could answer, he thrust his hand into his pocket and withdrew a lollipop. Rachel took it hastily, unwrapped it and began sucking it with innocent suggestiveness.

‘Such a good little angel!’ the man exuded, stroking the girl’s hair.

The Colonel was anxious they move the topic and Samantha obliged, ‘How are things in social services Mr. Bradshaw?’

‘Oh, much the same as ever Mrs. Barton, much the same. Problems too great, budget too small. There are so many drains on our resources, housing, staffing…catering. Especially catering. Hungry kids are unhappy kids, are they not?’

Dr. Matthews had held a subservient position in this conversation of the great and good, but plucked up the courage to contribute.