Three weeks had passed since Gerry had first asked Sandra Pullman what her middle name was, and he still hadn't found out what it was. Granted, he hadn't exactly been trying very hard, but he had attempted to catch both Jack and Brian off-guard numerous times, much to the hilarity of the woman in question. He knew that it wasn't likely to be anything particularly unusual, but the more he thought about it, the more varied possibilities entered his head. Either way, he had to know, if only to stop the relentless jibes. So now it was time to up his game.
It had been a long day, and Sandra had decided to give Brian a lift home, as Esther was at book club. That meant there was only him and Jack left in the pub, and that meant that Plan A was now in full swing- get Jack drunk and get him to spill Sandra's middle name.
"Fancy another one, Jack?" he asked cheerily, nodding at the pint in front of him.
The older man sighed. "Go on then, but I'd better be getting home after that."
"Why?"
"Gerry, I'm seventy four years old. A man this age shouldn't be out past nine'o'clock."
"Come on Jack, when have you ever let age hold you back? Remember that time when you rode that motorbike in the car park, it was bloody brilliant," he grinned, already heading towards the bar. He returned two minutes later, setting down two pints of beer and two whiskeys on the table with a flourish.
"Here, get those down you," he said, resuming his seat before holding one of the pints aloft in a toast. "To old age,"
Jack looked reluctant, but eventually he shrugged and touched Gerry's glass with his own. "To old age, and trying to get people drunk to find out people's middle names."
The younger man's face fell dramatically. The game was up. "How did you know?"
"It was obvious, you've been acting bloody strange all night. You practically forced Sandra into taking Brian home, then you started trying to persuade me to stay and trying to get booze down me, why else would you do that?"
He sighed. "Alright, alright, I know. You probably wouldn't have told me anyway."
"Probably not. Look, Gerry, I know this is a bit of fun, but seriously, if Sandra doesn't want to tell you then I'm not going to. Just ask her yourself."
"Don't worry about it, mate. I will do."
"Hello, this is Gerry Standing from UCOS, I'm just enquiring about the records of serving officers…well, where do you keep them? On the computer, right. And do I need some sort of clearance to access these? Right, well I'm not a serving officer, never mind a DAC. Do you not keep hard copies anymore? They're with the DAC in charge of that unit, right. Well, thanks anyway. Bye now."
He placed the receiver back on to the main part of the phone slightly louder than he had intended to, creating a clunk which echoed around the office. Luckily Jack and Brian were out interviewing a suspect, so they hadn't heard the conversation between him and the woman from human resources, but the noise had alerted Sandra's attention, and she was eyeing him suspiciously through her office window. He was buggered if he was going to ask her, like Jack had said at the pub. Besides, what kind of detective was he if he couldn't even find out the middle name of his boss? It was becoming clear that he was only left with one real option- he had to sneak into Strickland's office and look at the file.
The window of the third floor men's toilets gave him an optimum view over the car park, and more specifically, over Strickland's car. It was approaching six in the evening, and he'd stayed behind on the pretence of completing some unfinished paperwork. Sandra had looked suspicious when he announced this, but she didn't question him about it. She was probably too surprised that he had willingly stayed behind after the usual work day had ended. Ah, finally. Strickland was making his way to his car, his briefcase in one hand and keys in the other. Gerry watched as he put the briefcase in the boot and climbed into the driving seat, the car's head lights reflecting on to the tarmacked surface, which was still wet from the heavy rain earlier that day.
Now was his chance.
Thankfully, the DAC's office was also located on the third floor, so he didn't have far to walk to reach his target. The corridors were almost deserted owing to the relatively late hour, but he still took a quick glance around him before he slipped into the room. He closed the door behind him quietly, seeking out the filing cabinet in the far corner which would contain Sandra's record. Crossing the room in a few hurried steps, he knelt down and pulled open the heavy drawer, which was full of brown manila folders. The drawer was labelled 'L-S', so he deduced that the file would either be near the front or near the back. He started at the front, which turned out to be a lucky guess- four files in was one marked 'Pullman'.
He lifted it out quickly, opening it with care and skim-reading the first sheet, which contained all her personal details. At the top, in bold font, was her full name.
Sandra Jane Pullman.
For Christ's sake. The lengths he'd gone to and it was sodding Jane, of all the bloody boring names…
"Gerry?"
Shit. He froze in his tracks, the file still wide open on the floor in front of him.
"Gerry, what are you doing?" asked the familiar voice of Robert Strickland.
"Err…nothing, sir, I was just looking for a file."
"May I ask why you had to sneak into my office to find it?"
He sighed, standing up and turning to face his superior. "Look, I'm sorry. It's Sandra's file. It sounds stupid now, but I just wanted to find out her middle name, alright?"
The DAC's expression turned from one of anger to confusion, and finally to one of amusement. "Are you still trying to find out?" he chuckled. "It's been weeks since you first asked me."
"Well I know now, don't I? Bloody Jane," he muttered, which escalated the other man's chuckles to full-blown laughter.
"I must admit Gerry, I'm impressed at the lengths you've gone to in order to find out. Good detective work,"
"Thank you sir," he said through gritted teeth. "What are you doing here, anyway?"
"I forgot some paperwork that needs completing before tomorrow, I came back to pick it up. How did you know I wouldn't be here?"
He sighed. So now he looked like a bloody stalker as well as an absolute idiot in front of his boss, fabulous.
"I waited until I saw you leave," he admitted, his face turning a deeper shade of red. "Look, can you not tell Sandra about this?"
"Of course not. As much as I hate to admit it, your antics do amuse me sometimes, Gerry. And if you need access to a file again in the future, ask first."
"Yes sir, I'll don't think I'll need any more files for a while though," he smirked.
"You're probably right. Go on, get yourself home."
He closed the file, returning it to its original place and firmly closing the drawer before exiting the office as quickly as he could without breaking into a sprint. The next time he wanted to find out someone's middle name, he was definitely just going to ask.
