He barged into the office with little more than a perfunctory knock on the door.  “Don’t you think it’s time you started to tell me what’s going on?”  He demanded.
“Not now Phil.”  Jack replied sharply.
“I’m sick and fed up with being the last person to find out about things.  When were you going to tell me about this so called resignation of Eugen’s?  Next week, next month?  Or were you going to leave it to one of the student nurses to tell me?”
“I said not now, Phil.” Jack snapped, his eyes signalling to a point somewhere behind Phil’s left shoulder.
A soft coughing sound alerted the younger doctor to the fact they were not alone, he turned around to find himself subject to the considered gaze of a large grey haired man in his late fifties.
“Herr Klinsmann is here to investigate the break in.”  Jack told him, “Herr Klinsmann, this is Dr. Graves, my second in command.”
“Indeed.  And who is this Eugen you talk about?  Another doctor?  And what do you mean by ‘so called resignation?’  Am I to understand that he may have reason to hold a grudge against you Dr Maynard, or against the San in general?  Perhaps I should speak to him.  It is already clear this was, in common parlance, an inside job, and bearing in mind which drugs were stolen, revenge seems a very feasible motive.  It will certainly make your work here more difficult.”
“Of all the ridiculous ideas I’ve ever heard, that has to take the biscuit,” Phil retorted, “I can assure you that no doctor worthy of the title would ever consider doing anything so vile, and Eugen Courvosier was, is a very worthy doctor.”
“And I can assure you, Doctor Graves, that no detective worthy of the title would neglect to follow up on any possible lead.  I insist on speaking to doctor Courvosier.”
“I’m afraid that isn’t possible, at the moment.”  Jack decided to intervene before Phil had the opportunity to disclose any more of the mornings events, “I’m afraid he isn’t on the premises at the moment.”
“But he will be back on duty later?  Or has this resignation taken place with immediate effect?”
“If I have anything to do with it there will be no resignation.” Phil turned back to Jack with an angry glare.
Jack ignored him and responded to the question posed by Herr Klinsmann, “I’m afraid that at the moment, I can’t tell you when, or if he will be back.”
The detective sighed, “There is evidently bad feeling among you, but I am not interested in your internal politics, except in as much as they may have some bearing on the crime, so if you could manage to put your petty quarrels to the side for a moment, and concentrate on the present business,  where can I contact Dr Courvosier?”
There was an uncomfortable silence, Jack had no mind to reveal any of the details of his involvement with Eugen to the policeman, while Phil realised that if he admitted that his friend was missing it would make him even more of a suspect.
“I think it would be a mistake to concentrate solely on Dr Courvosier at this point of your investigations,” Jack said finally, “Especially as it is highly unlikely that he was on the premises last night.  As much as I hate to say it, I had already come to the conclusion that it was one of the staff  who was responsible for the theft, but I think you will find that there were many people with far greater opportunity than Eugen Courvosier.  It need not necessarily have been one of the medical staff either, and judging by drugs which were taken, I think it was just as likely to have someone who didn’t know what they were doing.”
“And next time you are about to operate on a patient, Dr Maynard, I shall stand next to you and tell you how to proceed.” 
Herr Klinsmann was highly affronted at being told how to do his job, and he saw no reason to make any secret of that fact.  Moreover, Jack’s attempts to divert attention from the mysterious Dr Courvosier had backfired spectacularly, Klinsmann was even more convinced that there was something fishy going on, something that the director wished to cover up, and he was determined to discover what it was.
It was at this point that Jem Russell came striding into the office, “What’s all this I hear about Eugen going missing?”
 

This is the new bit;

He burst through the door, pulling up sharply as his nose reminded him of the odour which had seemed to follow him down the corridor earlier.  Trying to breathe through his mouth he strode across the room and threw open the window, pulling the curtains open at the same time.  If anything the room looked even worse in the hard daylight, all the details which had been blurred and softened by the single electric light were depicted plainly.  Jack made a small sound of disgust and examined his shoe as he noticed that he had left a footprint on the carpet, having trod in something which he didn’t care to examine too closely.  He also noticed a scattering of tablets on the floor, and realised they no longer had to speculate on the identity of the thief.
No longer expecting to see Reg again, at least in the immediate future, Jack began to clear the cupboards and drawers of his possessions, the contents of the drawers were tipped onto the floor and the remaining clothes were torn out of the wardrobe, none to carefully, to be added to the mess where Jack kicked through them in the vague hope of finding something which would incriminate the younger man, or at least give a clue to his whereabouts.  Mostly though, he was motivated by a lust for revenge and the small sense of satisfaction which he gained from fanatically throwing Reg’s possessions around went just a little way to appeasing his need for vengeance.
Finally, in the last drawer of the small bedside cabinet, he found a half empty bottle of whisky, about to throw it on top of the pile of rubbish on the floor, he paused, after the morning he had had he deserved a drink.  Too late, the smell masked by the general stench of the room, he discovered that Reg, at some point being to idle, to inert to bother getting out of bed, had re-filled the bottle with a rather different liquid.
Filled with revulsion, Jack flung the bottle hard against the wall, where it shattered instantly, spilling it’s contents onto one of Reg’s shirts, even as he spat the stuff onto the floor.  Not caring any longer where he put his feet, he sprinted over to the basin and washed his mouth out, repeatedly, feeling that he couldn’t stop until every trace of the appalling taste had gone.
The sound of running water masked the soft patter of footsteps and it wasn’t until he heard a strangled gasp that he realised he was no longer alone.  Turning round, he saw Matron Graves standing in the doorway. 
“I thought…..I heard someone in hear,”  her voice trailed off as she saw the violence in Jack’s face.
He looked at her, unspeaking, his thoughts both too primal and too intense to put into words.
“Um, I’ll just go then.”  She muttered, sidling away.
“Matron,” his voice cracked the air like a whip crack.
“Yes?” She stopped hesitantly.
“I don’t care what you heard, but you didn’t see anything.  Do you understand?”
“Yes, of course, there was no one here,” she babbled, walking backwards all the time, before she turned and practically fled back to her own domain.

Hope someone catches up with Reg soon!

And what kind of nastiness have the likes of Hilda, Con, Jem and Hilary partaken in (so far)?

I said I would have news of Eugen by Saturday, I don't think I stipulated which Saturday that would be.......

Jack’s manner certainly succeeded in it’s primary objective, which was to prevent Helen Graves from spreading the story further afield, for she never discussed the matter with another living soul, but it was at the cost of their formerly comfortable working relationship.  Despite the apologies which Jack made later in the day, when he was in a somewhat calmer frame of mind, Helen always thought twice in the future before daring to  voice even the mildest disagreement.  As it was, she still felt the remnants of sympathy towards Reg Entwhistle, even after Jack had told her, and her alone, what had happened to Con the previous night.
Before seeking out Helen Graves, though, Jack hastily cleared up most of the mess he had created by the simple process of shoving all of Reg’s possessions into one of the San’s large laundry bags and depositing it with the rubbish. He also carefully removed the larger remains of the bottle from the floor, and, rather awkwardly, swept the remainder into a dustpan.  It was hardly the sort of activity to which he was accustomed, but he felt that which ever unfortunate person who was assigned to cleaning the room properly had enough health risks to contend with without the added danger of cutting themselves on broken glass.
Jack grimly deposited the last fragments of glass into the litter bin and walked out of the room.  Throwing out Reg’s possessions had been, he acknowledged to himself, a rather petty act of revenge, but it had proved to have some therapeutic value, the worst edge of his temper had disappeared into the rubbish along with the laundry bag, although he knew that the cold rage inside him would never disappear completely until he had the opportunity to confront the man himself, but at least he felt he could now greet his colleagues with some semblance of civility.  This newly attained calm served him well when he returned to his office to find a reception committee comprising of Jem Russell, Phil Graves and the Swiss detective awaiting him.
“Gentlemen,” he acknowledged their presence with a nod.  “What can I do for you?”
It was the detective who replied, “I have some news about your missing Doctor, I thought it was best to wait until you were present before announcing it.” 
“Which one?” 
The unexpected reply caused both Jem and Phil to look at Jack with some concern and not a little bewilderment, but once again it was the detective who spoke, You’ve lost another colleague?  I am beginning to have serious misgivings about this establishment.” He gave Jack a meaningful glance, at the same time scrutinising his appearance.  Despite obvious signs of a rudimentary tidy up, the doctor definitely had a rather second hand appearance, in contrast to the neat and tidy attire he had worn earlier.  “Do you mind if I ask you where you have been Sir?  We have been looking for you.”
“In the staff quarters.  I have some news for you too, but I think we need to find out about Courvosier first.”
Herr Klinsmann nodded.  “Very well.  I am afraid it is my duty to inform you that Dr Courvosier’s body was recovered from a small ledge, someway below the pathway which leads to the Schomferten shelf about an hour ago.”  he paused while the men reacted to the news, each in their own way, before continuing his story.  “We have also spoken to an American couple who were winched to safety from the shelf last night.  They have reported seeing a man fitting Dr Courvoier’s description sheltering from the rain among the bushes at the beginning of the path.  Apparently they gave him some fruit, under the erroneous impression that he was, hmm, a tramp.” Giving his audience no time to interrupt, he continued, “At this time, we can only surmise that he set off to warn this couple of the impending danger, a noble gesture, but one which he never had a chance of fulfilling.  The pathway has crumbled away badly at some points, and has collapsed altogether in other places, leaving wide chasms, difficult enough to negotiate at the best of times, but in those conditions….as I said, he never had a chance.  Dr Maynard, everyone I have spoken to has confirmed that you never left the building until you were driven home by one of the nurses, and it is now obvious that Dr Courvosier did leave your premises as you described, however, in cases such as these we have to explore all the possibilities.”
Jack nodded, leaving the detective to wonder why, now that it was clear that he had had nothing to do with the other doctors disappearance, he was looking decidedly stricken by guilt.

Poor Eugen!  Poor Biddy!  Poor Jack!  :'( :'(
 

How on Earth will both Biddy and Jack react to that?

Poor Eugen I was so hoping he would survive, and poor Biddy and their children  :'( :'( :'(

Oh, are they actually in this story? It's been so long since we've seen them that I'd forgotten! 

And the death of a character is always interesting...

Biddy will cope, she's a Chalet School girl to the core, not a spineless jellyfish, so I expect she'll go back into teaching.

*hums 'always look on the bright side of life' absentmindedly*

How do we know he isn't? Or would that just be too convenient?

Dunno Vikki - so far the ones killed off have been innocents and good people - Nell Wilson and Eugen. Would she be nice enough to do to Reg what all of us have fantasized doing? ;D

More story please Esmeralda!

(Now 1900 posts!!!! YEEEEEAAAAAHHH!)

And Esmeralda, that's a good idea. We are looking forward to more, though!

I hope you had a nice Christmas break Esmeralda

BTW With all that time off - any possibilty of more Tensions??

Pretty please? :D (Smarmy smiley!)

It is rather isn't it?
*Makes note to check for typos.

I would like to give you more story.......but it isn't the end of the festive season yet.

*points Keren in the direction of the resurrected New Family thread!!*

*reminds Keren that I just finished one*

I did write more drabble - I just didn't post it.

If I post this now I won't have anything to post on Jan 02.  Oh well,
 

“Now, you said you had something to tell me,  another missing doctor I believe?”
“What?” Jack was recalled to the present by the question, “Oh, yes.  I think I can clear up the business of the drugs.  One of the other doctors here, he has been behaving a little, erm, oddly, over the last few days, and now he’s disappeared.  Deliberately I assume, given the circumstances.  He attempted to attack a patient last night, or in the early hours of this morning, I believe he took the drugs too, there are traces of them in his room, which incidentally, is an utter and total mess.  He appears to have taken a few things with him, his medical bag is missing, certainly, and I would expect he would have taken a few clothes, though I have to say that I’m not so familiar with his wardrobe as to be able to tell you what is missing.  No-one seems to have seen him since the incident I mentioned earlier.”
“And this doctor, he would have a grudge against the San would he?  Or against you personally?”
“More than likely.  He was engaged to my eldest daughter for a while, until she called it off.”
“Reg Entwhistle?”  Jem interjected,  “Surely not.  You must be mistaken Jack.  Reg would never descend to that sort of behaviour.”
“Do you in fact, have any evidence to support your theory, sir?”  Klinsmann asked, a strong element of scepticism in his voice.  Had any of his own colleagues been present they would have known this intonation for what it was, Klinsmann’s chosen method of eliciting information, but none of his colleagues were present, and it seemed to the three doctors, especially Jack, that Klinsmann was finding it difficult to believe anything Jack told him.
In other circumstances the detectives manner may have proved to be effective, but Jack was still shaken, and subdued, by the news which the Swiss had imparted earlier, and he was less irritated than he would have been.  Furthermore,  had he forgotten that the detective had got the better of him in their previous interview, and although he realised that he had received as much of an apology as he ever would for that particular accusation, he didn’t feel inclined to go through the whole gamut of insinuations again, also, he was mindful of the presence of his both his superior and his second in command, so, he did not find it difficult to answer calmly.
“As I said, there is the state of his room, the traces of drugs, you are more than welcome to see for yourself.  And the patient has made a complaint.”
“I see.  And may I talk to the patient?”
“Speaking as a doctor, I would rather you didn’t, at least not today.  I’m sure you understand that this was a very upsetting incident.”
“Well!”  Jem interjected, “Reg Entwhistle eh?  Who would have thought it.  But, what made you think that it might be someone with a grudge?”
“I would expect a doctor to know the value of the drugs he was taking, as it is, he seems to have focussed on taking those which would cause you maximum inconvenience.”
Jack shook, his head, “I don’t think he was focussed on anything.  The evidence seems to suggest that he had imbibed a large amount of alcohol.”
“He was drunk the last time I saw him.” Phil confirmed quietly.  Having been privy to some of Reg’s antics he had no great difficulty in believing Jack’s story.
“Very well.”  Klinsmann was also prepared to accept the story, for the moment, subject to examination of the room and an interview with the patient.  The latter, he felt, could safely be left until the following day when he was likely to get more sense from the victim anyway.  As it was, he had just about had enough of the San, and the people in it, and their ugly behaviour and pointless secrets.  His own secret was that, although he wasn’t exactly afraid of doctors, he did regard them with a deep seated distrust which was approaching fear, and he had a mild horror of all medical establishments, a horror which had not been placated by a glimpse at what occurred behind the scenes.  It was, he felt, time to go.  “If you could just give me description of Dr Entwhistle?”
“I can do better than that,”  Jack pulled open a drawer and removed a framed photograph, it was a family picture, taken in front of a building which the detective assumed was Jack Maynard’s house.  The main point of interest was the number of young people who surrounded the woman in the centre of the portrait.  The detective studied it for a moment, noting the family resemblance of the assembled group, “Surely these children are not all your’s?”
“I’m afraid so, all but Reg, that’s him, there.  That was taken shortly after he and Len were engaged, but he hasn’t changed a great deal, not in looks anyway.”
“May I?” Klinsmann, with a regard for grammer which would have gladdened Hilda Annersley’s heart, removed the photo from the frame and slipped it into his pocket.  “I will get this picture distributed, in the meantime, I have finished here for today.  I will return to examine the room tomorrow, please don’t allow anyone to disturb it.  Also, I will talk to your patient.”

Thanks Esmerelda.

More please, Esmeralda, lots, lots more.

It was Phil who broke the lengthy silence which followed the detective’s departure.  He had listened to Jack’s story but hih mind was still mostly occupied with Eugen’s sad fate.  Reg and his antics were little more than an unimportant sideshow. 
“What on earth was he thinking of?”  He suddenly exlaimed “Why ever was he trying to get to the shelf along the lower path?  I mean, what did he think he would achieve?  Even if he had managed to reach the Americans safely there was no chance of them all getting back along that route, whereas if he had taken the higher path he could at least have assured them that he would fetch help as soon as possible, or, even more sensibly, he could have returned to the San and called the rescue services straight away.”
No-one answered.  Eugen may have died nobly, yet it had been a futile act, and a pointless death. 
“Well,” Jem spoke eventually, “I suppose Biddy will have to be told.  I think that’s a job for you, Phil, I think, if you don’t mind.  Maybe you should get that wife of yours along too.  They are friends aren‘t they?”
Phil reluctantly conceded that Jem was right, but not before flashing an accusatory glance at Jack.  Jack was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice, but Jem did, and made a mental note to keep a watching brief on what could potentially grow into an explosive situation between his two most senior employees in Switzerland.
His fears proved justified a few moments later when Phil, who had temporarily lapsed back into silence while he struggled to come to terms with the loss of his friend and the whole injustice of the situation, was unable to contain his feelings any longer.  “This is your fault, Maynard, you wanted rid of Eugen didn’t you? Well, you’ve got what you wanted now, and I hope you’re happy about it.”
“I say, Phil, that’s……”
Jack brushed aside the attempt to smooth things over.  “No Jem, he’s right.  I t is my fault, and don’t think for a minute that I don’t know it.  I did want to ‘get rid of Eugen’, but not like this.  Never like this.”
The guilt and anguish which he felt were writ plainly on his face, but it did little to appease Phil, “It doesn’t matter what you meant, it’s what you did that counts.  That’s what you have to live with,  and I hope you live a very long time, but I trust you understand that I would rather not keep company with you at the moment.” 
With that parting shot, he walked out, letting the door slam behind him.

More please Esmeralda - I don't know how you do it but Tensions still has the 'tension' and is just as gripping!

Klinsmann felt his spirits rise with every kilometre that took him further away from the San.  It wasn’t until he had finally escaped from the institution that he realised what a dampening effect it had had upon him.  He wriggled his shoulders, feeling the muscles which he not known were knotted begin to relax, the slight nagging headache, which he had been aware of, had also miraculously vanished.  He lowered his car window slightly and breathed in the sweet smell of grass newly washed by rain, and pressed his foot a little harder on the accelerator.
By the time he arrived at a particularly demanding section of road, Herr Klinsmann was thoroughly enjoying himself, totally wrapped in the sensation of being at one with the car, yet being fully in control of it, and able to conquer any of the dangers the road posed for less able drivers.  He changed down through the gears in preparation for the approaching hairpin bend when, with a terrifying suddeness, a white coated figure appeared on the road in front of him.  As the world slowed down Klinsman had time to note every detail on the mans face even as he stamped on the brake pedal.  The look of absolute, petrifying fear,  the sunken eyes, the straggly two day growth of beard, did nothing to disguise the fact that this was the missing Dr Entwhistle.  Even as he battled valiantly with his steering wheel, trying to correct the skid into which his emergency braking had sent the car into, Klinsmann was working out his chances of apprehending the man.  He was still thinking the same when the car flew over the edge of the verge to go tumbling down the cliff, finally coming to rest on the lower portion of the road some distance below.
 

*Hope that satisfies everyone who wanted me to push the detective off the side of a mountain.

(Was going to say all your nasty characters but then realised that that would leave Hilda, Con and a host of minor characters who only have bit parts - and no one else!)

"Well, at least the detective did something useful"

*giggles*

I trust the documents in the car were sufficiently destroyed so that the investigation would have to be restarted under someone else...

So is Reg dead yet or not? If not, what about a slow, lingering death?

I will try to write some more later but I think the PBs have scarpered back to their burrows so they don't catch my cold.

Is able to make same declaration. ;)

Wonders though if KB has considered bad EBD and Matey? :o

Esmeralda - hope you're feeling better soon!

I've killed Robin, Madge, Reg and Bill, and had a great time doing so.

I wonder what you will all think of the death I'm planning for my next drabble? ;D

Hope you feel better soon Esmeralda!

I don't HAVE vision in both eyes!!

When are you going to start posting it?  Soon please!

More story, please, Esmeralda.

I'm One-Eyed Abi - the Terror of the Seas
 

*hops around with bandage on eye and a peg leg* 8oo

(well, I'm trying to entertain the school - see my avatar  ;D )

*parrot shrieks "pieces of eight"*

(you don't have to have eye problems  ;D )

*offers rum round*

*Make that eight pages!

They didn't die, they were destroyed. If they'd just died, they might have resurrected themselves. 

OK I promised more, but it's only a little snippet, I've spent too long trying to catch up with the board, and to think - I'd nearly managed it before KB and Viki became active.
 

Neither Reg’s training as a doctor, nor his finer instincts had completely deserted him, and as soon as was able to lift his feet and drag himself away from the spot of tarmac to which he had been glued with horror, he approached the edge of the road, with some trepidation.  The scars left in the muddy verge by the car’s tyres told him where to look, but didn’t prepare him for height of the road.  Looking down from this distance, the wrecked car looked little more than a handful of scrap metal.  He felt overcome by a wave of giddy nausea, and instinctively leaned forward to rid himself of the sickness, teetering on the edge of the cliff. 

*summons Matey for Kathy, as she MUST be sick* :o

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