Blott on the Landscape

  ‘Once is enough by the look of things,’ Mr Ganglion said. ‘And no more phone calls? No letters?’

  ‘Not until last night,’ said Dundridge, ‘and then I got a message from the girl at the desk at the Regional Planning Board.’

  ‘The girl at the desk at the Regional Planning Board,’ said Mr Ganglion, eagerly reaching for a pencil. ‘And what’s her name?’

  ‘She’s got nothing to do with it,’ Dundridge said, ‘she was simply phoning to give me the message. It said Lady Maud Lynchwood had called and wanted me to know that she had some photographs of particular interest to me …’ He stopped. Mr Ganglion had half-risen from his seat and was glaring at him furiously.

  ‘Lady Maud?’ he yelled. ‘You come in here with this set of the most revolting photographs I’ve ever set eyes on and have the audacity to tell me that Lady Maud Lynchwood has something to do with them. My God, sir, I’ve half a mind to horsewhip you. Lady Maud Lynchwood is one of our most respected clients, a dear sweet lady, a woman of the highest virtues, a member of one of the best families …’ He fell back into his chair, speechless.

  ‘But—’ Dundridge began.

  ‘But me no buts,’ said Mr Ganglion, trembling with rage. ‘Get out of my office. If I have one more word out of you, sir, I shall institute proceedings for slander immediately. Do you hear me? One more word here or anywhere else. One breath of rumour from you and I won’t hesitate, do you hear me?’

  Dundridge could still hear him fulminating as he dashed downstairs and into the street clutching his briefcase. It was only when he got back to his apartment that he realized he had left his photographs on Mr Ganglion’s desk. They could stay there for all he cared. He wasn’t going back for the beastly things.

  Behind him Mr Ganglion simmered down. On the desk in front of him Dundridge and the masked woman lay frozen in two-dimensional contortions. Mr Ganglion adjusted his bifocals and studied them with interest. Then he put the photographs into the envelope and the envelope into his safe. The good name of the Handymans was safe with him. Mind you, come to think of it, he wouldn’t put anything past her. Remarkable woman, Maud, quite remarkable.

  *

  By the time they reached London Lady Maud had explained Blott’s new duties to him.

  ‘You will hire a taxi and wait outside his flat until he comes out and then you will follow him wherever he goes. Particularly in the evening. I want to know where he spends his nights. If he goes into a block of flats, go in after him and make a note of the floor the lift stops at. Do you understand?’

  Blott said he did.

  ‘And on no account let him catch sight of you.’ She studied him critically. In his dark grey suit Blott was practically unrecognizable anyway. Still, it was best to be careful. She would buy him a bowler at Harrods. ‘If you see him with a woman follow them wherever they go and if they separate follow the woman. We have got to find out who she is and where she lives.’

  ‘And then we break in and take the photographs of them?’ said Blott eagerly.

  ‘Certainly not,’ said Lady Maud. ‘When we find out who the woman is we’ll decide what we’re going to do.’

  They took a taxi to an hotel in Kensington, stopping on the way to buy Blott’s bowler, and at five o’clock Blott was sitting in a taxi outside Sir Giles’ flat in Victoria.

  ‘I suppose you know what you’re doing,’ said the driver when they had been sitting there for an hour with the meter running. ‘This is costing you a packet.’ Blott, with a hundred pounds in his pocket, said he knew what he was doing. He was enjoying himself watching the traffic go by and studying the pedestrians. He was in London, the capital of Great Britain, the heart of what had been the world’s greatest Empire, the seat of those great Kings and Queens he had read so much about and all the romance in Blott’s nature thrilled at the thought. What was even better, he was tracking down him – Blott had never deigned to call him anything else – him and his mistress. He was doing Lady Maud a service after all.

  At seven Sir Giles came out and drove to his Club for dinner. Behind him Blott’s taxi followed relentlessly. At eight he came out and drove across to St John’s Wood, Blott’s taxi still behind. He parked in Elm Road and went into a house while Blott stared out of the taxi and noticed that he pressed the second bell. As soon as Sir Giles had gone inside, Blott got out and walked across the road and took a note of the name on the doorbell. It read Mrs Forthby. Blott went back to the taxi.

  ‘Mrs Forthby, Mrs Forthby,’ said Lady Maud when Blott reported to her. ‘Elm Road.’ She looked Mrs Forthby up in the telephone directory. ‘That’s very clever of you, Blott. Very clever indeed. And you say he didn’t come out?’

  ‘No. But the taxi-driver wouldn’t wait any longer. He said it was time for his supper.’

  ‘Never mind. You’ve done very well. Now the only thing to do is to find out what sort of woman she is. I would like to get to know Mrs Forthby a little better. I wonder how I can do that.’

  ‘I can follow her,’ said Blott.

  ‘I don’t see what good that would do,’ said Lady Maud. ‘And in any case how would you know her to follow?’

  ‘She’s the only woman living in the house,’ Blott said. ‘There’s a Mr Sykes on the top floor and a Mr Billington on the ground floor.’

  ‘Excellent,’ said Lady Maud. ‘You are an observant man. Now then how can I get to know her? There must be some way of arranging a meeting.’

  ‘I could,’ said Blott, adopting the voice of Sir Giles, ‘ring her up and pretend I was him and ask her to meet me somewhere …’ he said.

  Lady Maud gazed at him. ‘Of course. Oh, Blott, what would I do without you?’ Blott blushed. ‘But no, that wouldn’t do,’ Lady Maud continued. ‘She would tell him. I’ll have to think of something else.’

  Blott went up to his room and went to bed. He was tired and very hungry but these little inconveniences counted for nothing beside the knowledge that Lady Maud was pleased with him. Blott fell asleep blissfully happy.

  So did Lady Maud, though her happiness was more practical and centred on the solution to a problem that had been worrying her. Money. The fence for the Wildlife Park was going to cost at least thirty thousand pounds and the animals she had ordered came to another twenty. Fifty thousand pounds was a lot of money to pay to save the Hall and besides there was no guarantee that it would work. If anybody should be paying it was Giles, who was responsible for the whole wretched business. And she had found a way of making him pay. She would ruin him yet.

  Next morning at eight o’clock she and Blott were sitting in a taxi at the end of Elm Road. At nine they saw Sir Giles leave.

  Lady Maud paid the taxi-driver and with Blott at her heels strode down to number six.

  ‘Now remember what to say,’ Lady Maud told Blott as she pressed the bell. There was a buzz.

  ‘Who is it?’ Mrs Forthby asked.

  ‘It’s me. I’ve left my car keys,’ said Blott in the accents of Sir Giles.

  ‘And I thought I was the forgetful one,’ said Mrs Forthby.

  The door opened. Blott and Lady Maud went upstairs. Mrs Forthby opened the door of her flat. She was dressed in a housecoat and was holding a yellow duster.

  ‘Good morning,’ said Lady Maud and walked past her into the flat.

  ‘But I thought …’ Mrs Forthby began.

  ‘Do let me introduce myself,’ said Lady Maud. ‘I am Lady Maud Lynchwood and you must be Mrs Forthby.’ She took Mrs Forthby’s hand. ‘I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. Giles has told me so much about you.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Mrs Forthby. ‘How frightfully embarrassing.’ Behind her Blott closed the door. Lady Maud took stock of the furniture, including Mrs Forthby in the process, and then sat down in an armchair.

  ‘Quite the little love nest,’ she said finally. Mrs Forthby stood plumply in front of her wringing the duster.

  ‘Oh this is awful,’ she said, ‘simply awful.’

  ‘Nonsense. It’s nothing of the
sort. And do stop twisting that duster. You make me nervous.’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ said Mrs Forthby. ‘It’s just that I feel … well … just that I owe you an apology.’

  ‘An apology? What on earth for?’ said Lady Maud.

  ‘Well … you know …’ Mrs Forthby shook her head helplessly.

  ‘If you imagine for one moment that I have anything against you, you’re mightily mistaken. As far as I am concerned you have been a positive godsend.’

  ‘A godsend?’ Mrs Forthby mumbled and sat down on the sofa.

  ‘Of course,’ said Lady Maud. ‘I have always found my husband a positively disgusting man with the very vilest of personal habits. The fact that you appear to be prepared, presumably out of the goodness of your heart, to satisfy his obscene requirements leaves me very much in your debt.’

  ‘It does?’ said Mrs Forthby, her world being stood on its head by this extraordinary woman who sat in her armchair and addressed her in her own flat as if she were a servant.

  ‘Very much so,’ Lady Maud continued. ‘And where do these absurdities take place? In the bedroom I suppose.’ Mrs Forthby nodded. ‘Blott, have a look in the bedroom.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ said Blott and went through first one door and then another. Mrs Forthby sat and stared at Lady Maud, hypnotized.

  ‘Now then, you and I are going to have a little chat,’ Lady Maud continued. ‘You seem to be a sensible sort of woman with a head on your shoulders. I’m sure we can come to some mutually advantageous arrangement.’

  ‘Arrangement?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Lady Maud, ‘arrangement. Tell me, have you ever been a co-respondent in a divorce case?’

  ‘No, never,’ said Mrs Forthby.

  ‘Well my dear,’ Lady Maud went on, ‘unless you are prepared to do exactly what I tell you down to the finest detail I’m afraid you are going to find yourself involved in quite the most sordid divorce case this country has seen for a very long time.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ Mrs Forthby whimpered, ‘how simply awful. What would Cedric think of me?’

  ‘Cedric?’

  ‘My first husband. My late husband I should say. The poor dear would be absolutely furious. He’d never speak to me again. He was very particular, you know. Doctors have to be.’

  ‘Well, we wouldn’t want to upset Cedric, would we?’ said Lady Maud. ‘And there will be absolutely no need to if you do what I say. First of all I want you to tell me what Giles likes you to do.’

  ‘Well …’ Mrs Forthby began only to be interrupted by Blott who emerged from the bedroom with the Miss Dracula, the Cruel Mistress, costume.

  ‘I found this,’ he announced.

  ‘Oh dear, how frightfully embarrassing,’ said Mrs Forthby.

  ‘Not half as embarrassing, my dear, as it will be when we produce that in court as an exhibit. Now then, the details.’

  Mrs Forthby got up. ‘It’s all written down,’ she said. ‘He writes it all down for me. You see I’m terribly forgetful and I do tend to get things wrong. I’ll get you the game plan.’ She went through to the bedroom and returned with a notebook. ‘It’s all there.’

  Lady Maud took the book and studied a page. ‘And what were you last night?’ she asked finally. ‘Miss Catheter, the Wicked Nurse, or Sister Florinda, the Nymphomaniac Nun?’

  Mrs Forthby blushed. ‘Doris, the Schoolgirl Sexpot,’ she tittered.

  Lady Maud looked at her doubtfully. ‘My husband must have a truly remarkable imagination,’ she said, ‘but I find his literary style rather limited. And what are you going to be tonight?’

  ‘Oh he doesn’t come tonight. He’s had to go to Plymouth for a business conference. He’s coming again the day after tomorrow. That’s Nanny Whip’s night.’

  Lady Maud put the book down. ‘Now then, this is the arrangement,’ she said, ‘in return for your co-operation I will settle for a divorce on the grounds of incompatibility. There will be no mention of you at all and Sir Giles need know nothing about the help you have given me. All I want you to do is to go out for a little while on Thursday night so that I can have a little chat with him.’

  Mrs Forthby hesitated. ‘He’ll be awfully cross,’ she said.

  ‘With me,’ Lady Maud assured her. ‘I don’t think he’ll worry about you by the time I’ve had my say. He’ll have other things on his mind.’

  ‘You won’t do anything nasty to him, will you?’ said Mrs Forthby. ‘I wouldn’t want him to be hurt or anything. I know he’s not very nice but I’m really quite fond of him.’

  ‘I won’t touch him,’ Lady Maud said. ‘I give you my word of honour I won’t so much as lift a little finger to him. And let me say I think your feelings do you great credit.’

  Mrs Forthby began to weep. ‘You’re very kind,’ she said.

  Lady Maud stood up. ‘Not at all,’ she said truthfully. ‘And now if you’ll be so good as to give me the key of the flat I’ll send Blott to get a duplicate cut.’

  By the time they left the flat Mrs Forthby was feeling better. ‘It’s been so nice meeting you and getting things straightened out,’ she said. ‘It’s taken a great weight off my mind. I do hate deception so.’

  ‘Quite,’ said Lady Maud. ‘Unfortunately men seem to live in a fantasy world and as the weaker sex we have to follow suit.’

  ‘That’s what I keep telling myself,’ Mrs Forthby said. ‘Felicia, I say, you may find it peculiar but if it makes him happy you can’t afford to be choosy.’

  ‘My sentiments exactly,’ said Lady Maud. She and Blott went downstairs. They took a taxi across London to Sir Giles’ flat in Victoria. On the way Lady Maud coached Blott in his new role.

  19

  In Worford Dundridge asserted himself. Now that he came to think about it, he could see that he had been wise to visit Mr Ganglion. The old man’s reaction might have been violent but at least it had been genuine and served to indicate that the solicitor was far too respectable to be a party to a blackmail attempt by one of his clients no matter how influential she might be. And Mr Ganglion could do one of two things: he could let Lady Maud know that Dundridge had visited him and had accused her of blackmail, or, more likely, since it was unprofessional to disclose one client’s business to another, he could keep silent. In either case Dundridge was in a fairly strong position. If Ganglion spoke to Lady Maud she would not dare to repeat her threat. If he kept silent … Dundridge considered the most likely consequence. There would be another message from her. Dundridge got up and went out and bought himself a tape recorder. The next time he visited Mr Ganglion he would tape evidence, solid evidence that Lady Maud was involved. That was the thing to do.

  Having arrived at that conclusion he felt better. He had spiked the bitch’s guns. Operation Overland could proceed. He went round to the Regional Planning Board and sent for Hoskins.

  ‘We are going ahead,’ he told him.

  ‘Of course we are,’ said Hoskins. ‘Work has already started at Bunnington.’

  ‘Never mind that,’ said Dundridge, ‘I want a task force to begin work in the Gorge.’

  Hoskins consulted his schedule. ‘We’re not due there until October.’

  ‘I know that but all the same I want work to begin there at once. Just a token force, you understand.’

  ‘At Handyman Hall? A token force?’

  ‘Not at the Hall. In the Gorge itself,’ said Dundridge.

  ‘But we haven’t even served a compulsory purchase order on the Lynchwoods yet,’ Hoskins protested.

  ‘In that case it is about time we did. I want orders out to Miss Percival, General Burnett and the Lynchwoods at once. We’ve got to bring pressure to bear on them as quickly as possible. Do you understand?’

  ‘Well, I understand that,’ said Hoskins who was beginning to resent Dundridge’s authoritarian manner, ‘but quite frankly I can’t see what all the hurry is about.’

  ‘You wouldn’t,’ said Dundridge, ‘but I’m telling you to do it so get it done. In any case we don’t need a
compulsory purchase order for the entrance to the Gorge. It’s common land. Move men in there tomorrow.’

  ‘And what the hell do you expect them to do? Storm the bloody Hall under cover of darkness?’

  ‘Hoskins,’ said Dundridge, ‘I’m getting a little tired of your sarcasm. You seem to forget that I am Controller Motorways Midlands and what I say goes.’

  ‘Oh all right,’ said Hoskins. ‘Just remember that if anything goes wrong you’ll have to take the can back. What do you want the task force to do?’

  Dundridge looked at the plans for construction. ‘It says here that the cliffs have to be cleared and the Gorge widened. They can start work on that.’

  ‘That means dynamiting,’ Hoskins pointed out.

  ‘Excellent,’ said Dundridge, ‘that ought to serve notice on the old bag that we mean business.’

  ‘It will do that all right,’ said Hoskins. ‘She’d probably be round here like a flash.’

  ‘And I shall be only too glad to see her,’ Dundridge said. Hoskins went back to his office puzzled. The more he saw of the Controller Motorways Midlands the odder he found him.

  ‘I never thought he would stand up to Lady Maud like this,’ he muttered. ‘Well, better him than me.’

  In his office Dundridge smiled to himself. Dynamite. That was just the thing to bring Lady Maud rushing into the trap he had set. He took the tape recorder out of his briefcase and tested it. The thing worked perfectly.

  In Sir Giles’ flat in Victoria, Lady Maud and Blott sat down by the desk. In front of her were the details of Sir Giles’ shareholdings. In front of Blott the telephone and the script of his part.

  ‘Ready?’ said Lady Maud.

  ‘Ready,’ said Blott and dialled.

  ‘Schaeffer, Blodger and Vaizey,’ said the girl at the stockbrokers.

  ‘Mr Blodger please,’ said Blott.

  ‘Sir Giles Lynchwood on the line for you, Mr Blodger,’ he heard the girl say.

  ‘Ah Lynchwood,’ said Blodger, ‘good morning.’

  ‘Good morning Blodger,’ said Blott. ‘Now then, I want to sell the following at best. Four thousand President Rand. One thousand five hundred ICM. Ten thousand Rio Pinto. All my Zinc and Copper …’