SPARROWS

“What do you mean the system’s down?” yelled Roger Stamp, “the Market is about to go live and we’re for it if our client’s can’t trade!  I don’t care how you do it, Williams, I want it up and running in five minutes!” He slammed the phone down.

His PA put his head round the door; “Tea?”
“Not now, Stefan!”
Stefan retreated.
Roger scowled at the window, looking in as it pecked the lattice was a sparrow.  He smacked the glass and the bird flew away.
“Stefan,” he called.
“Yes, Mr Stamp.”
“Wretched sparrow looking in.  Call pest control, see to it they’re not nesting in the roof.”
“We’re in the country, Mr Stamp.”
“Yes, so I don’t have to pay you London allowance.  Do it now, will you?”
“Yes, Mr Stamp.”

Stefan returned to his desk to hear Mr Stamp yelling at Williams, toadying to City clients and harassing the sales team.  It seemed like a perpetual phone call because Mr Stamp didn’t do pleasantries like hellos and goodbyes.  Every now and then there was the sound of the window being thumped.  After the sixth time, Stefan was summoned through.

“Stefan, there were seven sparrows at the window.  Why haven’t pest control dealt with them?”
“Sparrows are protected, Mr Stamp.  Their numbers are falling.”  Stefan looked curiously at the diamond patterned window lattice, but he couldn’t see any birds.
“Don’t you doubt me, Stefan.  Those birds have been pecking the window, staring in and I don’t like the way they look at me.  What are you going to do about it?”
“Me, Mr Stamp?”
“Pest control won’t act and you’re my PA.  Are you too stupid to act on your own initiative?  Get through there and start researching poisons!”

At lunchtime, Roger Stamp left for the pub.  Stefan tried to work, but was distracted by a tapping noise coming from Mr Stamp’s office.  He put his headphones on.  Later, Mr Stamp returned, face flushed from drink.

“The system’s down again,” reported Stefan quietly.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” Mr Stamp replied and entered his office.
Stefan heard the phone call, Mr Stamp told Williams he’d been a fool to hire her, women and computers didn’t mix.  He’d see to it she never worked in the industry again.  In the middle of the call was another thump on glass; “Stop staring!”  Then the icing on the cake for Williams - she would be sued for incompetence.
The phone call ended abruptly, then another thumping sound and Mr Stamp shouting; “Right!  If my incompetent PA can’t deal with it, I will!”
Stefan would have assisted, but his phone rang, it was a client.  “I’m sorry, but Mr Stamp is busy ... technical support are working on the system ... I understand your frustration ... OK, I’ll try and put you through.”
Mr Stamp didn’t answer.  Alarmed, Stefan placated the client and went into his office.  It was empty, he rushed to the open window.  The body of Roger Stamp lay surrounded by staff, on the patio two floors below, blood seeping from his head.
“Did you see what happened?” the security officer asked, looking up at Stefan.
“I think Mr Stamp has been under a lot of pressure,” Stefan replied.
“I’ll call the emergency services, but he’s a goner I’m afraid.  ‘Ere, he’s got something in his hand; a bird feather.”

Stefan closed the window and turned to call the client with the news.  The soft sound of fluttering caused him to turn; a sparrow clung to the window lattice and peered in at him with hard, bright eyes.