In the Teeth of Adversity (16 page)

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Authors: Marian Babson

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“Here!” From behind his back, General Sir Malcolm brought out a long white plume and presented it to Inspector Rennolds. “Think it over well,” he said sternly. “It's not too late.”

“Er, thank you.” Rennolds took the feather with a slightly dazed expression.

“Now ...” Business out of the way, General Sir Malcolm transferred his attention to Morgana. “Who is going to introduce me to this delightful little lady?” he said, beaming.

I was surprised to see Morgana turn pale. Perhaps she hadn't realized the slipperiness of the General's faulty grasp on reality. More likely, she wasn't accustomed to anyone's forgetting they'd met her before – no matter what condition they were in.

“Grandmother's fan!” Adele's anguished wail focused our attention on her as she descended the stairs. “General – you promised!”

“Well,” Gerry muttered, “at least we know one thing she had packed in that suitcase.”

“Father?” The surgery door opened. “Is that you?” Endicott Zayle peered out nervously. “Father, I want to speak to you.”

“Bah!” General Sir Malcolm whirled on his heel in an abrupt about-face, nearly colliding with Adele, who had come up behind him.

“General –” She turned and followed him.

“Father – wait –” Endicott Zayle came out of the surgery, not too obviously unsteady, I was relieved to note, and went after the others.

Penny flattened herself against the wall as they all swept up the staircase past her. Just one big happy family. Looking a bit shaken, Penny then continued down the stairs to join us in the hallway.

“It's all right,” I said. “Adele can take care of it now.”

There was a sigh of defeat from Morgana – she wasn't going to be able to squeeze any treatment into
this
spare half hour. Although –

“I must go.” She looked at her watch. “I have a photo session in Bond Street. Perhaps I can get a cab –”

“Let me drop you.” Rennolds came back to life. “It's on my way.”

I wouldn't have said that, but it wasn't all that much of a detour, either. And he had a police car at his disposal.

“How kind of you.” Morgana gave him an automatic smile.

“Not at all.” His eyes followed her trim trouser-suited figure down the stairs, then turned back to us. He seemed to notice the white feather still in his hand and was momentarily bemused again.

“That's right.” Gerry slapped him on the back. “‘We Don't Want to Lose You, but We Think You Ought to Go.' ”

“I'll give that back to Adele.” I took the feather from his hand. “She'll be getting the fan restored again. And” – I forestalled his nervous comment – “I'll make an appointment for you with Endicott.”

“After work, if possible,” he said. “If it wouldn't be too much trouble.”

“About seven,” I said. “And it won't be any trouble at all.” Frankly, I hoped it would ruin Zayle's evening. I felt he had it coming – look at the way he'd disrupted Perkins & Tate.

“Fine.” He looked as though he might be going to say more, but Morgana Fane was waiting impatiently at the foot of the stairs. “Fine,” he said again, and exited.

“Everything seems to be under control here,” Gerry said. “Do you think we might spare a few minutes for the office now?”

“We'd better, if we plan to keep the business running.” I handed the white plume to Penny. “Give this to one of the Zayles – not the General, for God's sake – when you see them and –”

“Shan't I come with you?” she asked. “Work must be piling up dreadfully back there.”

“Thanks.” I resisted the impulse to take advantage of her good nature; she'd been working hard here. “You hold down the fort here until Zayle's nurse recovers. We'll try to manage as best we can without you.”

“Come
on
,” Gerry said, “before something else happens.”

Chapter 13

We returned to pandemonium. The telephone was ringing insistently and the cat was howling with fury. I caught up one with each hand, but Pandora twisted free and I had to let her drop back on the desktop. I ought to have dropped the telephone.

It was one of our paying clients – he didn't pay much, but he paid – inquiring truculently why we hadn't mounted a major publicity campaign to inform the world that he could currently be seen in a new film. (In which he appeared for all of five minutes – two of them consecutive – and uttered six lines.) He had, he added, been trying to reach us for several days, but no one ever answered the phone – perhaps we were in the process of retiring?

The client was more easily placated than the cat. Perjury cut no ice with Pandora. She stamped up and down the desk, letting us have it in no uncertain terms.

“It sounds like an ultimatum,” Gerry said.

“Her meals
have
been fairly irregular for the past couple of days.” I could see her side of it; it was a pity we couldn't explain ours to her. Not that she was in any mood to listen. She leaped to the floor and vented a bit more spleen by sharpening her claws on one leg of the desk, muttering to herself.

“We ought to get her a scratching post when finances run to it,” Gerry said, looking at the splintered leg. “At this rate, it won't take long to saw through that leg completely.”

“There are three more,” I said callously, heading for the emergency rations. We kept a store of cat food, but there were also tins of kippers and sardines tucked away for peacemaking or rewards. Although Pandora ate cat food happily enough, she really preferred people food.

Pandora abandoned the desk and came after me, scolding. I needn't think I was going to get round her that way.

Her milk saucer was empty, too. I hurriedly splashed some milk into it to decoy her while I got the tin open. Otherwise, she had a nasty habit of trying to get between the tin opener and the tin, presumably on some theory that she was helping me to open it faster. It was a good way to lose a set of whiskers.

Kippers turfed into the again-empty milk saucer, I put on the kettle for coffee. We'd had the forethought to stop and pick up pork pies along the way, so dinner wouldn't take long. More important, we could eat it while we worked.

I had poured the coffee and was sitting down to the typewriter when I noticed Pandora looking at me reflectively. She had finished her kippers and had washed her face. Now what she wanted was a lap to settle down in for a nap.

“Friends?” I suggested.

It wasn't going to be quite that easy. She gave me an outraged glare and started toward Gerry. Then she wavered, obviously remembering that he was no better than I was. We had both gone away and left her. She stood there, hesitating.

“Friends?” I tried again.

She considered it carefully, her concentration broken by a wide yawn.

“Come on.” I patted my lap invitingly. “Be friends.”

“Prryeh!” Abruptly she abandoned the vendetta and dived for my lap.

“That's better.” She settled down, I went back to writing press releases, and Gerry manned the telephone.

After a couple of hours, we switched over. Gerry worked on press releases and I took the telephone, contacting neglected clients and trying to make them feel less neglected, while not actually tying us down to doing anything like seeing them.

Then Gerry put the kettle on again and we stopped for a breather and a cup of coffee. Pandora accepted a saucer of milk, chirruping under her breath that this was more like it. A nice quiet evening at home, with two laps available and refreshment at frequent intervals. We were all feeling pleasantly relaxed and virtuous about getting some work done at last. We should have known it couldn't last.

The telephone rang.

Being nearest, I answered it – an unfortunate habit I've never been able to break.

“Hello?” The voice was low, cautious, guarded – but I recognized it immediately.

“Penny! What's the matter?”

She did not question my assuming something was the matter – which was the most telling sign of all.

“I – I don't know. It's just – I don't know. Perhaps it's because I'm alone here and –”

“Alone? Where are the others?”

“Upstairs in the flat. And I – I just suddenly wanted to talk to someone. I'm all right, really. It's silly, I know.”

It wasn't silly. Not in that house.

“Penny, listen. If anything's upset you – anything at all – you walk straight out of that house and come here. Take a taxi – we'll pay at this end.”

“No, really, nothing's happened. I'm feeling better already and Mr. Zayle needs me here. He still has more appointments. We're working late tonight.”

And it was my fault. Hoping to inconvenience Zayle, I'd unwittingly put Penny on the spot. That made me feel great.

“Penny,” I tried again, “Penny, forget all that. Put down the phone and walk straight out and get into a cab. Don't even wait to collect your coat. Come back here –”

“I'm sorry, sir.” Penny's voice became cool and professional. “I must go now. A patient has just come in.”

“Penny –” But she had rung off.

I put down the phone. “I don't like it.”

“Neither do I.” Gerry was reaching for his coat. “Let's get over there.”

“Nrryoh!” The only dissenting vote was Pandora's. Sensing desertion again, she streaked across the room, leaped to the desktop and from there to my shoulder, where she crouched, digging in her claws.

“Pandora, get down!” I slanted my shoulders, trying to tilt her back onto the desk. She gripped harder with her claws and cursed me soundly.

“Let her come,” Gerry said. “We don't have time to fool around.” He, too, felt a sense of urgency.

“You won't like it,” I warned her. She hitched herself closer around my neck – I wasn't going to get rid of her that way.

“Come on!” Gerry said.

The street was deserted when our taxi rolled up in front of Zayle, Zayle & Meredith. Not even a reporter lurking anywhere nearby. Nor a policeman. Evidently the story had cooled down. It wasn't important enough anymore to keep anyone on overtime. The thought ought to have cheered me, but it didn't.

“I don't like it,” Gerry said as we paid off the cab and crossed the pavement. “I just don't like it.”

Neither did Pandora. She began a deep subvocal rumbling when the smell of antiseptic in the front hall reached her nostrils.

“You
would
come,” I reminded her. “It was your own idea.”

She shifted uneasily on my shoulder and snarled softly. She flexed her claws in the cloth of my coat, obviously preparing to fight to the end.

The reception desk was empty; our footsteps echoed back at us in the waiting room. Gerry and I exchanged an unhappy look.

“I don't know about you,” Gerry said, “but I feel like the first man aboard the
Mary Celeste
– afterwards.”

I nodded glumly, wishing he hadn't bothered to verbalize the situation. A thought like that was all I needed.

“There
must
be someone around.” Gerry turned and made for the hallway again with me behind him. “Penny was here just a few minutes ago.”

“A patient came in,” I recalled. “She's probably upstairs in the surgery, passing the probes and handing swabs to Zayle.”

“It's awfully quiet up there.” Gerry cast a worried glance up the stairs.

“There isn't usually much noise, anyway.” The implication that the surgery must be empty because no one was screaming up there was disquieting, but Gerry seemed to have settled in for a steady run of gloom. I wished fleetingly that I had tried to persuade him to remain at the office and telephone a few more clients. On the other hand, I was just as glad not to be alone in this house at the moment.

“Let's go up –” I began, when another voice cut across mine.

“Attention!”

Automatically, I snapped to attention, noting out of the corner of my eye that Gerry had done the same. Pandora rocked on my shoulder, complaining at being jounced about so.

General Sir Malcolm descended the stairs, obviously bent on inspecting the troops. This comparative normalcy cheered me. Things might not be so bad as we feared if General Sir Malcolm were carrying on in his usual way. Even he had noticed it when there had been a couple of corpses around the place. Perhaps we'd just been letting our nerves get the better of us.

“I'm looking for Geoffrey,” he announced. He glared at me. “You're his adjutant. Where is he? He was due here half an hour ago.”

“Emergency conference, sir,” I improvised quickly. “Called without warning. He sent me along to tell you he'd be here as soon as he could.” The General seemed to be in a martial mood, and after all, Sir Geoffrey had stepped in originally and saved me a lot of bother. The least I could do was repay in kind. At the same time, I wondered whether the appointment had been for tonight or for some distant night in a decade long past.

“I see.” The General frowned. “Right,” he ordered. “Come upstairs.”

We'd been heading in that direction, anyway.

General Sir Malcolm looked back over his shoulder several times. Pandora's presence seemed to bother him – a Siamese cat was not regulation issue. True, I was still in mufti until my uniform arrived, but even so –

On the other hand, I remembered that Pandora had seemed to upset Endicott Zayle in some mysterious way. Perhaps the whole Zayle family had a thing about Siamese cats.

“Come in.” The General swung open the door to the living quarters on the second floor. It was evident that he seldom entertained in his own small flat. We followed him inside.

“Sit down.” The invitation still had the ring of a command. We sat.

The smell of disinfectant was not evident in here. Pandora felt reassured enough to leave my shoulder and slither into my lap, although she kept a wary eye on the door. If it opened, she was prepared to fly for her life.

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