‘Thank you. Had I better start by showing you my birth certificate?’

  ‘Yes, do. People are always asking me if I have read any good birth certificates lately.’

  ‘It proves that I am the Sarah Fitch—’

  ‘Fitch! Of course. Fitch.’

  ‘—formerly of Much Middlefold in the county of Worcestershire whom you’ve been advertising for.’

  ‘And what’s your address?’

  ‘Where I’m living now, do you mean?’

  ‘Exactly. Obviously you aren’t in the county of Worcestershire, so you must be somewhere else—as it might be in the metropolis somewhere.’

  ‘Oh, I see. I’m at one of those hostel places, 18 Laburnam Road, up Notting Hill way. Is it important?‘

  ‘Very,’ said Joe. ‘Very.’

  He was relieved to know that there would now be no need for the detectives and bloodhounds whose services he had been planning to engage. Detectives and bloodhounds come high.

  ‘Cigarette?’ he said hospitably.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Sally, and laughed.

  ‘What’s the joke?’ Joe asked.

  ‘I was just thinking what Miss Carberry would say if she saw me now.’

  ‘You look all right to me.’

  ‘Yes, but I’m smoking.’

  ‘Ah, yes, I remember you told me about her.’

  ‘She caught me with a cigarette once and lectured me till I felt as if I had confessed to murder, arson, mutiny on the high seas and keeping a dog without a licence. So this is where you work,’ said Sally, looking about her. ‘Pretty snug.’

  Joe coughed.

  ‘I’m afraid I must advance a small correction. I don’t work here. My overlords are Shoesmith, Shoesmith, Shoesmith and Shoesmith, who operate a bit farther east. I am just a waif washed up at the doorstep of Nichols, Erridge, Trubshaw and Nichols. They let me come in sometimes to get out of the cold when there’s a snowstorm outside. As a matter of fact I looked in to see my friend Jerry Nichols. He was summoned to the presence of the big chief a moment ago, but ought to be back soon, and he, I fancy, is the man you want to see if you have important legal business. Have you important legal business? Not that I wish to pry into your affairs.’

  ‘No, I noticed that. It’s important to me all right. If I’m the Sarah Fitch they have been advertising for.’

  ‘Bound to be. Birth certificate and everything.’

  ‘And unquestionably formerly of Much Middlefold in the county of Worcestershire.’

  ‘Ask me, the thing’s a walkover. No contest. They will be dust beneath your chariot wheels. You must tell me all about it at lunch.’

  ‘Lunch?’

  ‘I forgot to mention that. You are lunching with me at Barribault’s grill room at one o’clock. Unless you elect to put in what Shoesmith, Shoesmith, Shoesmith, Shoesmith, Erridge, Trubshaw and both the Nicholses would call a rebuttal.’

  ‘No rebuttal,’ said Sally. ‘That’ll be fine.’ And squashed out her cigarette. She had been planning a roll and butter and a cup of coffee at some wayside tea shoppe, and, though she had never been to Barribault’s world-famous restaurant, she knew its reputation.

  ‘If I’m late,’ she said, ‘wait awhile.’

  ‘Till the sands of the desert grow cold,’ said Joe.

  Jerry came back into the room. He had a relieved look, as if his interview with his father had turned out unexpectedly well. Mr Nichols senior was a perfectionist who, when his son’s conduct called for rebuke, never hesitated to speak his mind.

  ‘Oh, there you are, Jerry,’ said Joe. ‘How was Pop?’

  ‘Very amiable. He only wanted to give me some instructions about a Miss Fitch in case she blew in.

  ‘This is Miss Fitch, if you mean the one who was formerly of Much Middlefold in the county of Worcestershire.’

  ‘No, really?’

  ‘Absolutely. Birth certificate and everything.’

  ‘Good morning, Miss Fitch. I’m Mr Nichols.’

  ‘Junior.’

  ‘I’m one of the partners.’

  ‘Junior,’ added Joe, ‘and if you had come in a day or two earlier, he wouldn’t have even been that. A splendid fellow, nevertheless, in whom you can place every confidence. I know of no one I would rather show my birth certificate to. Well, as you will have lots to talk about, I’ll leave you. Barribault’s grill room at one o’clock, to refresh your memory, Miss Fitch. I’ll book a table. Goodbye, Jerry,’ said Joe, and was gone.

  3

  ‘That was Joe Pickering,’ said Jerry.

  ‘I know. I interviewed him for my paper. ‘

  ‘A shame about his play, wasn’t it.’

  ‘Ruined by that Dalrymple woman. ‘

  ‘Oh, really?’

  ‘She pinched lines and upset balances.’

  ‘Too bad.’

  ‘That’s not the way to win to success.’

  ‘No,’ said Jerry. ‘And now—er—,’ he added, feeling that, delightful though this exchange of views on the drama was, his father would have something to say if he caught him exchanging them, ‘Shall we— er—?’

  ‘Get down to what I suppose you would call the res? Yes, we ought to, oughtn’t we? Why did you want me to come here?’

  ‘It was with reference to the will of the late Miss Letitia Carberry.’

  Sally gasped.

  ‘Late?’

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  ‘Oh, I am sorry. I was so fond of her, and she was always so kind to me. What was it?’

  ‘Heart, I believe.’

  ‘Oh, dear.’

  ‘Would you like a glass of water?’

  ‘No, thanks. I’m all right.’

  There was a silence. Jerry was wishing that the task of breaking the distressing news had been placed in the hands of Alexander Erridge or B. J. Trubshaw. A tear was stealing down Sally’s cheek, and crying women always made him feel as if he were wearing winter woollies during a heat wave. But he reminded himself that business was business and that he was a hard-headed partner in a prominent legal firm, and continued.

  ‘Miss Carberry was a very wealthy woman.’

  ‘I know. I used to have to write all the letters about her investments.’

  ‘You were employed by her?’

  ‘For two years, as a secretary.’

  ‘And your relations were always friendly?’

  ‘I was telling Mr Pickering that she was more like a sort of aunt than an employer.’

  ‘Then that accounts for it.’

  ‘It?’

  ‘You are the daughter of the Reverend Herbert Fitch, vicar of Much Middlefold?’

  ‘In the county of Worcestershire? I certainly am.’

  ‘May I see, that birth certificate for a moment?’

  ‘Here it is.’

  ‘Seems all in order, and as there must be dozens of people in .Much Middlefold who will vouch for you, there doesn’t appear to be any need for a lengthy … what’s the word?’

  ‘Quiz?’

  ‘Yes, quiz. Though my father would have a fit if he knew I was conducting my investigations so—’

  ‘Informally?’

  ‘Yes, he’s rather a man for taking several hours over things of this sort. So is Erridge for that matter, also Trubshaw. I prefer the simpler method—Who are you? What’s your name? Can you prove it? You can? Then right ho, we know where we are.’

  ‘It does you credit.’

  ‘Saves time.’

  ‘You aren’t going to ask any questions?’

  ‘None.’

  ‘Well, I am. What did you mean by “it”?’

  ‘I don’t quite follow you.’

  ‘I said Miss Carberry was like an aunt to me, and you said “Ah, that accounts for it.”’

  ‘I was alluding to the terms of Miss Carberry’s will. The bulk of her fortune goes to the Anti-Tobacco League.’

  ‘I can understand that.’

  ‘But you are one of the minor beneficiaries.’

&nbs
p; ‘So I do learn something to my advantage?’

  ‘You do indeed, but there are strings attached to it. Tell me, Miss Fitch, are you a smoker?’

  ‘I don’t smoke much.’

  ‘It was Miss Carberry’s aim to stop you smoking at all, and she has left you this legacy on condition that you don’t do it for two years. By which time, she says in her will, “she will have cured herself completely of the vile habit.” I wouldn’t knock off smoking myself for all the rice in China,’ said Jerry, finally abandoning the conversational methods of Erridge, Trubshaw and his father, ‘but you may think differently. Twenty-five thousand pounds is a lot of money.’

  The room flickered about Sally. A shelf of legal volumes which Jerry had bought to impress visitors rocked as if in an earthquake, and Jerry himself had apparently been wafted back to the 1920s, for he seemed to have broken into the dance, popular in those days, known as the shimmy.

  ‘Twenty-five thousand pounds!’

  ‘A trifle to Miss Carberry. She probably couldn’t think lower than that.’

  Sally was still shaken. In a less pretty girl what she was doing would have been described as puffing.

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t say these things so suddenly. Couldn’t you have led up to it by degrees or blown your horn or something?’

  ‘I’m sorry. I thought you would prefer to get the gist without any of the whereases and hereinbefores you’d have got from Alexander Erridge or B. J. Trubshaw. They would have kept you in agonies of suspense for half an hour. My way, you get the drift immediately.’

  ‘I’m not sure I really do. I can’t believe it. Twenty-five thousand pounds!’

  ‘And a very posh apartment at Fountain Court, Park Lane. Which, by the way, you will share with a Miss Daphne Dolby, a young lady from the Eagle Eye detective agency.’

  Sally stiffened. The light died out of her eyes.

  ‘Oh, no!’ she cried.

  ‘I told you there were strings attached to the legacy.’

  ‘I don’t want to share any apartments with any Dolbys.’

  ‘Things being as they are, I’m afraid you’ve got to. I told you the bulk of Miss Carberry’s fortune goes to the Anti-Tobacco League. So, if you break the clause about smoking, does your twenty-five thousand, and the Anti-Tobacco League have got their eyes fixed on it. They want to protect their interests, and how can this be done except by having somebody constantly at your side, spying out all your ways as the fellow said, watching to see that you don’t sneak a quiet cigarette when you think nobody’s looking? It’s in the will. I imagine Erridge or Trubshaw, whichever of them it was who drew it up, pointed out to Miss Carberry that such an arrangement was only fair.’

  ‘I don’t call it fair.’

  ‘The Anti-Tobacco League do.’

  ‘A detective!’

  ‘But not the sort of detective you’re thinking of. You’re picturing a hawk-faced female with piercing eyes and a sniffy disposition, who will make you feel it’s only a matter of seconds before she slips the handcuffs on you and hauls you off to the jug. She’s not like that at all. She’s charming, and you’ll like her. In a couple of days you’ll be calling her Daffy.’

  ‘All the same … You say it’s in the will?’

  ‘Plumb spang in the will.’

  ‘Then I suppose I’ve no option.’

  Chapter Six

  Outside the offices of Nichols, Erridge and Trubshaw, now Nichols, Erridge, Trubshaw and Nichols, Sally paused for a moment in thought. In preparation for the interview she had put on her best dress, but though becoming it hardly seemed eye-knocking-out enough for the splendours of Barribault’s Hotel, where standards were high. She looked at her watch. The morning was still young, and there would be plenty of time to go to the best place in London and buy something really glamorous. Her host had made a considerable impression on her, and she wanted to be a credit to him. Her identity established, Nichols, Erridge, Trubshaw and Nichols had advanced her a generous sum, so no obstacle stood in the way of her scattering purses of gold. She hailed a taxi.

  When she came out of the best place in London with her purchase in her arms, the morning had aged a good deal, but not so much as to preclude a quick visit to Fountain Court. She was naturally curious to see her new home, and she had been given the key. She hailed another taxi.

  Number 3A Fountain Court took her breath away. Jerry Nichols had described it as posh, and posh it most certainly was. In addition to her money Miss Carberry had had excellent taste. Everything was just right—the furniture, the curtains, the cushions, the rugs, the books, the pictures. To one accustomed to 18 Laburnam Road the effect was overwhelming, and she dropped into one of the luxurious chairs and tried to realise that all this magnificence was hers.

  It was only after some time that a less agreeable thought intruded on her reverie, the recollection that with the magnificence went the constant company of an unknown Miss Daphne Dolby. She wondered with some trepidation what sort of a woman this Daphne Dolby would turn out to be, and was enabled almost immediately to discover at least what she looked like, for Miss Dolby entered through the door presumably leading to the sleeping quarters.

  In spite of what Jerry had said, Sally had not been able to rid her mind of the picture of a female detective as something formidable and sinister, and seeing this one she was relieved. The newcomer might reveal herself later as the snake in this Garden of Eden, but she looked all right, very attractive, in fact. She was quite young, with a round pleasant face and brown eyes that had none of the piercing quality which one associates with members of her profession. Hers was quite an ordinary appearance, though a physiognomist would have seen in her mouth and chin evidence of determination and a strong will. They were not the mouth and chin of a weakling.

  ‘Miss Fitch, I take it,’ she said, ‘and if you are going to say “Miss Dolby, I presume”, you will be quite correct. Revisiting the old home?’

  ‘Doing what?’

  ‘Isn’t this where you worked for Miss Carberry?’

  ‘Oh, no, she bought it after I left her.’

  ‘And kept it on although she’d gone to South America. What a thing it is to have money. How do you like it?’

  ‘It’s wonderful.’

  ‘That’s how it strikes me. I think we shall be pretty comfortable here. I hope my company won’t spoil it for you. I know I’m a pest and a nuisance, but then those in my line of work so often are. I’ll be as unobtrusive as I can.’

  Sally, who liked nearly everybody, was now quite fond of her visitor. She replied with warmth.

  ‘You aren’t a pest and a nuisance at all. I shall enjoy having you here.’

  ‘I believe you mean that.’

  ‘Of course I do. Are you going to crawl about on the floor picking up small objects and putting them carefully away in an envelope?’

  ‘I will if you want me to. Anything to oblige.’

  ‘And you can tell me all about your cases.’

  ‘They aren’t very exciting.’

  ‘No Maharajah’s rubies and secret treaties?’

  ‘It’s quite a dull job really. Mostly leg-work. If your legs hold out, you’re all right. And I don’t do any of that now. I own the business.’

  ‘How did you rise to such heights?’

  ‘I had influence. My father was a Superintendent at Scotland Yard. When he had to retire, he founded this agency and worked it up into something big. I got him to take me on as an operative, which is how I come to know all about leg-work. I was promoted to a partnership. Father went off to the Channel Islands to grow tomatoes, and I became the boss. Just a story of local girl with lots of pull making good.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have thought the boss would have stooped to such a lowly job as watching over me. Sounds more like an assignment for one of the leg-workers.’

  ‘That was Jerry Nichols’s suggestion. He told me you would dislike having a female operative on the back of your neck. He was quite right. My female operatives are nice girls, b
ut they have no conversation, while I, as you may have noticed, have plenty, which will make it fine for you in the long evenings.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to it. Is this sort of arrangement usual?’

  ‘I couldn’t tell you. I’ve never come across it before. But you can see the idea. The Anti-Tobacco League want that twenty-five thousand if they can get it, and they haven’t a chance of contesting the will, so they pin their hope on that smoking clause. Greedy pigs, not to be contented with what they’ve got, but there it is. Anyway, I wish you good luck.’

  ‘Thank you. I’m glad you’re on my side.’

  Daphne Dolby became suddenly austere. The words seemed to have given offence.

  ‘I’m not on anybody’s side.’

  ‘Oh, sorry.’

  ‘My sympathies are all with you,’ Miss Dolby proceeded, softening. ‘I wish you life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, and I shall give three hearty cheers if you come through, but I’m like the referee in a football game. He can’t take sides. He may want the boys in the pink shirts to clobber the lads in the green with purple stripes, but he doesn’t allow that to affect his decisions. Same with me. I take my job religiously.’

  ‘I see what you mean. Integrity.’

  ‘Exactly. I may be rooting for you, but if I catch you smoking, don’t think I won’t denounce you. Duty first.’

  ‘I understand. Thanks for the warning.’

  ‘Not at all. What’s that you’ve got there?’

  ‘My new dress. I’m lunching at Barribault’s.’

  ‘Stepping high already? Quite right. Enjoy yourself while you’ve got it. I shall have a sandwich and coffee at the office. Unless the fellow I’m engaged to takes me out to lunch. I don’t think he will. He never has the price. Too fond of backing losers, like his late father. Can I drop you at Barribault’s? It’s on my way.’

  ‘No, thanks. I’m going back to my hostel.’

  ‘Then I’ll leave you. By the way, don’t yield to temptation and have a cigarette while my eye isn’t on you. I shall be asking you to breathe on me at unexpected intervals.’

  ‘Breathe on you?’

  ‘Routine precaution, just to make sure.’

  ‘You’re certainly thorough.’