Ghost Writer (2 page)

I shrugged and began to swing
slowly. She was still looking down at me.

“That severe look doesn’t suit
you,” I chided gently.

“You look too young to know
anything,” she snapped.

“Try me,” I invited.

She slumped on to the other
swing, sitting stiffly and disinclined to talk.

“What’s so precious about the
book?” I asked, noting that she clung to it more tightly.

I swung gently, waiting for her
to answer.

“It’s my problem,” she said
eventually. She was staring again.

“Maybe I can help?”

She shook her head. “I don’t
think you can, Edwina. You see, I’m suddenly responsible for a
whole company. The jobs of over forty men and I don’t know a thing
about business.”

The book, when it was lowered to
her lap had the lettering, “B and S Marriot Manufacturing Ledger
2005.”

“Which are you – B or S?”

“S – I’m Susannah Marriot.”

“So where is B?”

“Bryan?” she shrugged.
“Gone.”

“Dead?” I asked delicately.

“No – just gone.”

“Ah! So when did this
happen?”

“Three months ago. He just
disappeared.”

“So, who has been running the
company since then?”

“The manager.”

“And he’s…?”

“Walked out. Quit. He’s dumped
everything on me.”

“And that’s the problem?”

“Only the start.” Susannah shook
her head. “I’m going to lose everything. The business, the house –
everything. I might even end up in jail. Even though I have never
had anything to do with the business – I’m still listed as a
director. So they will crucify me.”

“How come?” I didn’t know if
what she said was right, but she believed it and I didn’t think it
was fair. I wished that I could ask advice of my father’s
lawyers.

“The company is going to be
sued. They claim one of our instruments was faulty and caused the
death of four people. Our whole production and testing procedure is
to be investigated. I have to stop production and an outside tester
has to check all our stock of instruments. The company is just
barely keeping ahead. If we can’t sell anything, in a month I won’t
be able to keep paying the men, and if I have to pay lawyers or
costs or compensation – I don’t have a hope.”

“Do you think Bryan or your
manager knew about this?”

“Bryan – no. If he had wind of
this, he would have taken it as a personal insult. He does all the
testing and calibration. He has no imagination, but to him – the
reputation of the company is sacred. As for Mc Murtee – he must
have known. He gave me the books this morning and the warrant was
served this afternoon.”

“So the workers don’t know
yet?”

“No. I will have to tell them
tomorrow, I suppose,” Susannah sighed.

“If it wasn’t for that warrant –
what would you do?”

Susannah clutched the book to
her chest again.

“I don’t know how to run a
business and I don’t know that I can sell it without Bryan’s
agreement.” Susannah was a realist. “Maybe I could hire a new
manager – if I knew how to choose a good one.”

I had a thought. “You might not
know how to run the business – yet – but the men know their jobs.
You could learn – with their help.”

“Them? Why would they obey me? I
am just Bryan’s “decoration” – only useful for impressing important
clients.” Her knuckles went white again.

“What skills do you have?” I
asked.

“I did all Bryan’s
correspondence. He was hopeless at that.”

I chuckled. “That proves that he
didn’t think you were totally useless.”

“No? He laughed when I told him
I wanted to do a management course.”

“He’s an idiot. Do you love
him?”

“That’s an odd question. He’s my
brother. I like him well enough – even if he does think me
brainless. I still can’t believe that he just walked out on the
business. We inherited it from our father and well – it’s Bryan’s
whole life.”

“When you go to the factory
tomorrow – could I come?”

“What could you do, Edwina?”

“Moral support,” I said
immediately. “I could be your secretary. Nobody would pay any
attention to me then.”

“Well, I’d appreciate both. I
didn’t know who to turn to for help.”

“Done,” I agreed.

After a while I continued. “Have
you thought about what you need to do?”

“I don’t know where to start,”
Susannah admitted.

“Have you looked at the
ledger?”

“Yes. All I can tell is that the
company has been steadily losing money over the last year.”

“I think you should get an
auditor to look at it.”

“Why?”

“You don’t know the business.
You might be missing something obvious.”

“Do you think Bryan or Mc Murtee
was embezzling?” Susannah asked with her eyebrows raised in
disbelief.

I shrugged, but it was a
possibility. “How did the workers get on with Bryan?”

“I’ve only met a few of them.
Clarrie is the only one who ever speaks to me.”

“Do you think he would know
where Bryan went?”

“No. He called and asked me. I
wish I knew where he was. At least if he was dead I could sell the
business and be done with it.”

“Selling or closing the business
won’t get you out of the mess,” I reminded her.” You need to find
out why one of your instruments passed the quality control process
and still be faulty.”

“Bryan did the quality control
work. He religiously follows the testing procedure that Dad
started…”

“When was the accident?” I asked
suddenly.

“Three months ago,” Susannah
told me and I shivered. “And Bryan went off soon after.”

“I don’t know if he went because
he felt responsible – but if he was, you shouldn’t have to wear the
blame.”

Susannah sighed.

“You know what, Susannah?” I
asked to get her attention back. “I’m a contrary sort of girl. I
tend to do things because people say I shouldn’t. Father taught me
about his business, but he never let me try his lessons on my own.
So I went out and learnt to fly – got my licence and all. I reckon
this is your chance to fly. I could help you a bit.”

“What does your father do?”

“He doesn’t make instruments!
However, that doesn’t matter. I know the principles of business.
You can help me with the specifics.”

“You’re full of surprises,
Edwina,” Susannah said with a soft laugh. She had begun to swing
gently too. “What do you suggest? I won’t be offended by your
advice.”

“Well,” I began, then paused to
organise my thoughts. “I’d start by looking around the factory. I’d
talk to the people about their jobs – what they do. Then I’d read
the procedure manuals, productivity reports, annual reports – that
sort of thing. I’d find out the status of all orders and service
appointments. The most important thing would be to find all records
relating to that warrant matter.”

“Then what?”

“Something might occur to you.”
I began to swing higher and Susannah copied me.

“Would you come to tea with me
tonight?” Susannah invited.

“Ah – I had plans,” I said.

“Another time then,” Susannah
promised. “I’ll be at the factory at 7.30am tomorrow. Is that too
early for you?”

I shook my head. Susannah slowed
her swing to a halt. “You know where it is?”

“I’ll be there,” was all I said.
I continued to swing as I watched my new friend walk back home –
full of hope.

Susannah was dressed for the
part - a fawn coloured business suit of skirt and jacket, with a
white turtleneck jumper under the jacket. Her shoes matched the
suit and a tidy brown briefcase completed the look.

I had upgraded my appearance
too, but I only intended Susannah to notice me.

We had an hour before the
workers would arrive and a lot to do. First, we went to Mc Murtee’s
office. His desk had been cleared of all personal stuff – but the
business matters were there – neatly piled. We gathered them
up.

Then we went to the Director’s
office – Bryan’s domain. The room was a mess. Untidy piles of
correspondence, bills, invoices and catalogues lay on his desk. The
filing cabinets were partly open and files had been shoved back in
roughly.

“Bryan’s work?” I asked with an
arched brow.

“No. Bryan is a sticker for
keeping things as they were. Dad kept the place tidy, so Bryan did
too.”

“Someone searching for
something,” was my next suggestion.

“Who knows?” Susannah shrugged.
“How would I know if something was missing?”

“True. Let’s tidy up. I’ll take
the file cupboard – you do the desk.”

Susannah began picking up odd
items from the desk and said thoughtfully, “Bryan always said
cleaning was woman’s work.”

I said nothing. I always thought
it was the servants’ work. I looked at the files. The files were
not just out of order; the contents were just thrown in anyhow. I
found specification sheets in with invoices and bank statements in
with other correspondence.

“The company makes meters?” I
asked as I scanned spec sheets.

“Instruments,” Susannah
corrected. She passed a catalogue across to me. “Our speciality is
aero-instruments but some can be used in cars and boats too. We
also service instruments, maintain them, calibrate them and issue
certifications of accuracy.”

“Do all instruments look the
same?”

“Most of the ones made by other
companies are square or round. Ours are hexagonal.”

“I’ve seen these before,” I
said, trying to recall where. “Aero-instruments. I must have seen
them in my plane.”

An hour later, it was time to
let the employees in. We were not much wiser – but the office was
tidy.

The men were standing around
outside, talking in small groups. Many were smoking, but all kept
glancing at the door. Susannah took a deep breath and opened it.
Her presence caused all conversations to cease. She didn’t need to
raise her voice to be heard.

“Gentlemen, I need to talk to
all of you, so if you would wait in the staff room, I will join to
you there.”

Susannah stepped back out of the
way and returned to Bryan’s office.

“They know something is up,” she
told me.

“Naturally,” I said calmly. “How
often are they greeted by such a beautiful decoration?”

Susannah knew I was teasing
her.

“What will I tell them?”

“For now – just that Mc Murtee
is gone. Don’t mention the other matter until we’ve looked at it a
bit more.”

“Business as usual, huh?”

I shrugged one shoulder. You’ll
have to talk to the senior staff after that. No need to mention me,
I’ll just be taking notes.”

I studied the men’s faces as
Susannah spoke. They seemed relieved when she explained that Mc
Murtee had left for personal reasons. It made me wonder what
rumours were going around.

Within moments of returning to
Bryan’s office we had our first visitor. I saw an old man, still
stocky and solid, with grey hair thinning on top of his head.

“Clarrie,” Susannah greeted. “I
wanted to talk to you. You’ve been around since before Bryan took
over – there are things I need to know.”

“Any help I can give, Suze,”
Clarrie offered immediately. “Any news of Bryan?”

“Nothing new. How did he seem
the day he disappeared?”

“Pretty normal. He was a little
worried because the number of orders had dropped off. The Kittering
order helped. That’s the biggest order that we’ve had for years.
John organised that.”

I lost the plot then. Kittering
– that was my surname. I realised then, that this company had been
responsible for installing the new instruments in my plane. Small
world.

I started paying attention again
as Susannah was explaining about the charge of negligence against
the company.

“No way, Girl!” Clarrie argued.
“Young Bryan would never let a faulty unit leave here.”

“Clarrie – it happened. The
Kittering plane crashed. I remember reading about it. I can’t
remember when though,” Susannah replied.

“March 31
^st
,” I
supplied. I couldn’t forget that day.

Susannah looked at me, her chin
resting on her hand, her elbow on the desk.

“What happens to faulty
instruments,” I asked.

When Clarrie didn’t answer me,
Susannah repeated the question.

“Bryan fills out a form
detailing the faults, and then disassembles them. We reuse the
casings, not the rest. The ones that pass are number stamped and
certified.”

Susannah and Clarrie continued
to speak. I leant back against the wall, making notes about
anything that seemed important. Finally, Susannah let Clarrie go,
after agreeing to his offer to take her around the factory.

“I’ll start looking for any
paperwork on that sale,” I offered. Susannah nodded.

The second of the section heads
arrived when I had barely begun to search. He knocked and had
entered before Susannah finished inviting him in. When she looked
up, he was sitting straddled on the chair, looking at her over its
back.

It didn’t take much to figure
this was Prosser – the chief storeman. We had found a list of
employees during our tidy up.

“We’re well rid of that twerp Mc
Murtee. He wouldn’t authorise anything without the boss’s say so.
Nothing has been ordered for months – we will be out of parts for
instruments in days. You have to send the orders off now!”

The man’s whole manner was
annoying. It was as if he thought he had the right to order
Susannah around and she should be glad to be told what to do.

“Speak to him from behind,” I
suggested quietly.

Susannah took my advice. She
moved casually as if pacing and thinking. When she spoke, Prosser
had to swivel around. He no longer looked comfortable.

“Tell me how many completed
instruments are in stock,” Susannah asked.