Fallen Gods

Thirty

"That's fine, Mr. Skinner, you can ease down and stop now."

Bob ignored the consultant's call; wearing only shorts and trainers, he continued to pound along on the treadmill, running on the spot, but at five-minute-mile pace.

"I said you can stop now," Peter Patience repeated, louder this time, over the noise of the treadmill.

"I'm enjoying this," Skinner replied, sounding barely out of breath. "I do at least four miles every day'

"Good for you, but can you please do the rest later. My colleague and I need to look at the print-outs from the various monitors you have attached to you, and to do that we'd like to switch the bloody things off."

"Okay." Dripping with sweat, the patient nodded, and reached out to touch a button on the control panel of the apparatus, to ease down its speed. He slowed it gradually, until, after around a minute, he came to walking pace, then stopped. He stepped off the track and allowed Hugh Hurley, the second consultant, to strip the monitor pads from his bare torso.

"Is that us, then?" he asked.

"Just about," said Patience. He pointed to Skinner's back. "That scar; is that where you were stabbed?"

"Yes."

"What about the two on your thigh, front and back?"

"They're where I was shot; entry and exit wounds."

"That's not on your medical history," Hurley exclaimed, with a hint of suspicion.

"No. It's not."

"Want to tell us about it?"

"No I do not. If there were any after-effects I wouldn't be able to run freely, would I?"

"I suppose not. Okay, we'll keep it off our report."

"You do that. Now; what sort of shape am I in?"

The two consultants exchanged glances, then smiles. "Mr. Skinner,"

Patience began, 'as you know very well, you are in remarkable condition for a man in his thirties, let alone one who's nearer fifty than forty.

You could and should have been returned to duty on the basis of the medical report which you brought back from America, and we are prepared to confirm without reservation that you are fit to resume active duty immediately. We'd be saying that if you were a soldier, never mind a senior police officer whose duties are assumed to be, in the main, sedentary."

"They're bloody not," Skinner grinned. "What else will your report say?"

"It will note that you were diagnosed, after your incident in the US, as suffering from what is commonly known as sick sinus syndrome, in which the sinus node, the heart's natural pacemaker, malfunctions, leading in your case to bradycardia… slow heartbeat… and loss of consciousness. This condition may recur, but it is quite possible that, even without intervention, you would never have had another episode. We find no sign of it today. In any event, that eventuality has been rendered irrelevant by the fitting of a dual chamber pacemaker, which is set to maintain your heart rate at a minimum level of fifty-five beats per minute, operating on demand; that is only if and when your rate drops to that level. You'll get around ten years' use out of it; when the battery runs down, a new one will be fitted.

Maybe by then the batteries will last longer, and that one will see you through to your eighties.

"As for the rest of you, your vision is virtually perfect, with maybe a slight touch of astigmatism in your right eye, your ears are prone to deposits of wax, but otherwise your hearing is normal, your urine is free of any diabetic indications, your liver function is healthy and your prostate is not enlarged."

The consultant smiled. "The bottom line on this is that although we're very happy to collect our fee, this examination has been entirely unnecessary, and demonstrates a significant degree of stupidity on the part of the police authority."

Skinner shook his head. "Not stupidity. Malice."

"I don't think we'll go that far in our report."

"It's okay, I wouldn't want you to; or even to include the stupidity line. On the face of it, I just want to appear grateful for being returned to duty, but at the same time pleased that the manpower committee were so concerned about my welfare. Once I'm back on the prowl, they'll find out how I really feel about it." He looked at the two cardiologists. "You'll put all that in writing?"

"This evening," said Hurley.

"And deliver it to Mr. Laidlaw at Curie, Anthony and Jarvis?"

"First thing in the morning."

"That's fine. There's a timetable in place. The chief constable has called in the authority chair and the chair of human resources to a meeting in his office at twelve noon. When they get there, they'll find that I'm the agenda."

"In that case," Patience declared, 'you'll be back in your office by one p.m."

Skinner grinned, as he picked up a towel and headed for the changing room. "Only I won't be. I've got other plans."