Good Works

Chapter 1 – Helping Hands

Robert Goren walked out of the Major Case squad room with his mind in a turmoil. He no longer had a job. He was not even suspended – he was fired. All he wanted to do was employ his intellect, his knowledge of human nature, to solve crimes. Now that door had slammed loudly behind him. What now?




He had so many debts. All those months with no income while he was suspended before, the expense of his mother’s care and her funeral. He needed a job fast, but he had no idea what to do or even where to look.

At home that night, he allowed himself to just flop in front of the TV, something he never did under normal circumstances. When the news came on, he was devastated to see that the Captain’s murder case was reported in detail, and his own name was mentioned, including the fact that his conduct in the case had led to his dismissal. The implication was that somehow it was his fault that the case was unsolved.

Bobby shuffled dejectedly over to his drinks cabinet and succumbed to the temptation he had been fighting all evening. He poured himself a generous measure of malt, and sat back down, holding the glass up to the light to admire the golden glow. Just as he was about to take a sip, the phone jangled into life.

Slamming the glass down on the side table, Bobby leapt up and crossed the room to lift it from the cradle and silence the shrill tone. He didn’t know whether to experience anticipation or dread. Was he in more trouble? Or did a friend want to offer him some kind of support?
Friends? Where had they all disappeared to? Misery prefers solitude, and since his troubles first began, he had let his friends drift from his life. Not one of them had tried to press support on to him.

“Robert Goren,” he said into the receiver.

“Good evening, Mr Goren. I’m sorry to bother you.” The voice was female, educated, the timbre resonant, a pleasant voice on the ear.

“I’m sorry, who is this?”

“You don’t know me, Mr Goren. My name is Louise Gardner. I run a group of charities – ”

“I don’t need charity, I’m perfectly capable of getting myself out of this difficulty by myself,” he said, protesting rather too much. Too late, he realised he was treating Ms Gardner as if she had read his own recent thoughts and was offering to help him solve his financial problems.

“That’s good news, Mr Goren. I hope it doesn’t mean you aren’t hoping to find a new job that might interest you?”

A job. So she had read his thoughts a little.

“I’m sorry Ms Gardner,” he apologised. “I am intending to find a new job. I just haven’t had any clear ideas about what I might do.”

Most people offered ex-cops security work, some officers went into private detection services. Neither of these appealed to Bobby. But Louise Gardner had mentioned charities. His interest had been roused. Before he could inquire further, she told him what he needed to know.

“I form new charities whenever I see a new need. There’s one for Haiti, another for New Orleans, a charity for endangered wildlife, for inner city kids, for providing musical instruments for schools in deprived areas. I also have a foundation for archaeological research and one to provide finance for advances in psychiatric medicine. And that is nowhere near an exhaustive list.”

He was dumbstruck. How did one person endow so many causes, and still find time to take an individual interest in each one and its work, as it would appear Ms Gardner did.

After a long pause, Bobby replied, “What role did you have in mind for me?”

“I take an active role in all my charities, Mr Goren. I may spend time on a dig in Egypt, or helping to set up shelter and food aid in a disaster area. But what I need now is someone to keep me focused, up-to-date and safe no matter where I am or what needs doing. I think you may have the skills I’m looking for.”

Bobby paused before answering. This was not investigation. It was not solving puzzles. But it was logistics. It was good causes, and the psychiatric foundation in particular interested him greatly.

“I’d certainly be happy to discuss a few possibilities, Ms Gardner. Just say where and when.”

Louise Gardner suggested 10am the next day at her offices, and gave Bobby the address.

As soon as the connection was broken, Bobby booted up his computer and entered Ms Gardner’s name in a search engine. What he found made his eyes pop and his jaw drop.