McQueen's Agency (7 page)

‘Mum said I could buy myself something to wear and I’m going dancing tonight with my pal.’

Molly smiled. How great it was to be young and fancy-free.

It was five thirty and the man was getting tired hanging around the street. As far as he knew, the agency closed at five thirty but there was no sign of anyone leaving. He looked at his watch and lit another cigarette. This was definitely where she worked but there had been no sight of her. He had been standing here since three o’clock but now he decided to call it a day and walked away.

Mike was out on the town. He loved getting into Dundee and parading his good looks around the girls. He was a bit worried about this Molly McQueen and hoped she wasn’t going to poke her nose into anyone’s business. Lamont Antiques had just been the four of them until Christie arrived but he didn’t like this woman. Neither did Joe. In fact he had said in confidence to him that he was suspicious of her motive in being in the house. ‘I’d love to know a bit more about her,’ Joe had said to him. The only people pleased by her were Kenneth and Lena who seemed to find her good at her job.

Because he was curious about the newcomer he decided to wander up the Wellgate and see this agency for himself. It was a bit of a disappointment when he saw it. The tiny shop with a house above it looked quite neglected in spite of the fresh coat of paint.

He would have loved to get some information on the owner but he knew this wasn’t possible. He knew it was no business of his but he always liked to find out things about people and because Joe was suspicious of her, well he just wanted to know something about her. Then, if Joe ever mentioned again that he didn’t trust her working with them, he could maybe give him a few bits of information. Also, this skulking about gave him pleasure and he had always liked to spy on people. Especially women and girls.

Suddenly the door opened and the young receptionist came out onto the pavement. According to his information her name was Mary. She stood on the pavement, looking up and down, a look of uncertainty on her face. He saw another young girl hurry down the street to meet up with Mary.

They started to walk up the Wellgate towards the tram stop on Victoria Road. He was torn between following them and keeping the shop under observation. He glanced across the road and saw that Molly was still working, busy typing at the desk.

He decided to follow the two young girls. Unaware that they were under scrutiny, he overheard their chatter.

‘I don’t want to go to Kidd’s Rooms, Mary,’ said the friend.

Mary looked unhappy. ‘I don’t think my Mum will want me to go to the Palais. Is it not for older people, Rita?’

‘Well I think Kidd’s Rooms just caters for kids. It’s well named and if you don’t want to go, I can always go on my own.’

Mary gave this some thought. ‘All right. Come round to the house at seven o’clock and we’ll go to the Palais. But remember, if I don’t like it, I’m going back to Kidd’s Rooms next week.’

The tramcar hovered into sight and the two girls got on board.

So that was the destination for the evening he thought, making his way past the agency. It was locked up and the blind had been pulled down at the window.

He glanced down the street but there was no sign of Molly. She must have shut up shop the minute he set off after the girls.

The whole evening stretched out in front of him. He debated about going to the pictures or the dancing. He had liked the look of the two girls so he decided on the dancing. He looked at his watch again. It was almost six o’clock. He was starting to feel hungry so he set off along the High Street towards the Palais. There was a wonderful aroma coming from the Deep Sea fish and chip shop so he decided to go and have something to eat before going to the dancing.

At seven o’clock he made his way to Tay Street, making for the Ascot Bar on the corner of the street where he decided to go for a couple of drinks. The bar was busy but he was served almost immediately and he carried his glass of whisky over to a corner of the bar counter.

At half past seven, after another two drinks, he went down the street towards the Palais.

The queue, which had formed earlier, had dispersed quickly and he was able to buy his ticket right away.

He scrutinised his reflection in the mirror of the Gents cloakroom. He was pleased with what he saw. A tall, slim man with a well-cut suit, white shirt and somewhat gaudy tie. It was a pity about the tie, he thought, but there was nothing he could do now. He could hardly take it off because he knew the dancehall had a strict dress code policy. He had been here before but not for over a year.

Upstairs, he quickly scanned the crowd. The band was playing a quickstep and the floor was crowded with dancers.

He spotted Mary and Rita. They were sitting on a settee, looking wistfully at the floor. Mary was wearing a white frock with blue spots. Very demure. Rita, however, had on a low-necked sweater and black skirt.

He decided to concentrate on Rita. Sauntering over, he asked her to dance. She was so eager she almost fell over her feet and they both joined the throng on the floor.

‘Do you come here a lot?’ he asked.

Rita tried to appear more sophisticated.

‘Oh I come here every week,’ she said. ‘Andy Lothian’s band is great.’

‘Does your friend come with you every week or do you come on your own?’

‘No, I usually come on my own, but Mary wanted to come tonight so here we are.’

Little liar, he thought.

Just then the dance ended. He walked back with her to the settee. Mary was looking really miserable. ‘I wondered if you would like a soft drink at the Soda Fountain?’

Rita was immediately on her feet again but Mary didn’t get up.

‘You must come as well,’ he said. ‘You must join us.’

Rita was shaking her head at Mary behind his back and because of this, Mary decided to go along.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

At the Soda Fountain, he bought three soft drinks and offered them a cigarette. Rita took one and proceeded to blow smoke in Mary’s face.

‘Where do you both work?’ he asked.

Rita answered for them both. ‘I’ve got a job in an office and Mary is in an agency.’

He looked at Mary. ‘That must be very interesting. Do you get clients from different places?’

Mary nodded.

Rita snorted. ‘Don’t be all secretive Mary.’ She turned to the man. ‘It’s called McQueen’s Agency and the owner is Molly McQueen. Mary works with a woman called Edna and some of Molly’s friends.’

‘Molly McQueen,’ he stopped as if giving this some thought. ‘I used to know a Molly McQueen. I wonder if it’s the same woman.’

Mary shrugged and Rita didn’t know so she remained silent.

‘Oh well maybe it’s not.’ He looked towards the dance floor. ‘Perhaps we’d better get back to dancing.’ He turned to Mary. ‘Can I have the next dance?’

Rita didn’t look pleased and neither did Mary but she could hardly refuse. It was a slow foxtrot and Mary wasn’t sure of the steps.

‘Never mind,’ the man said. ‘Just hold on to me.’

Before she knew it, they were in the middle of the floor. Couples were crushed up beside them and she felt uncomfortable. She didn’t like this man one bit and there was the smell of alcohol on his breath.

He held her in a tight grip, trying to speak into her ear. ‘Tell me all about your job. Do you like working in an agency? What’s your boss like? Do you like working for her?’

Mary tried to pull away, but his grip tightened and she felt a sharp pain on her neck.

Fortunately, the music came to an end and she was able to make her escape. He grabbed at her belt but it broke and she was suddenly on the edge of the crowded floor.

She saw Rita chatting to a young man and hurried up to her. ‘I’m leaving, Rita. Are you coming?’

Rita looked at her with open-mouthed surprise just as the young man started to dance with her and she was swept away amongst the dancers.

Mary hurried down to the cloakroom and quickly made her way out into the street.

Thankfully it was still light but as she made her way down Tay Street she saw the man emerge from the entrance.

She started to run, frightened to look over her shoulder in case he was chasing her. At the tram stop she saw a tramcar waiting while a few people climbed on board. With an extra spurt she reached it and jumped on board.

As it lumbered away she saw he had gone.

She was breathless and almost in tears but at least she was on her way home. She was so immersed in her own misery that she didn’t notice the woman walking towards her.

‘Hello, Mary, I thought it was you,’ said Edna, sitting down beside her. ‘Have you been dancing?’

Mary turned her frightened eyes to her. ‘I’ve had a terrible time, Edna. This man was talking to me about the agency. He kept asking questions about Miss McQueen. And he frightened me while we were dancing.’

Edna was worried. Mary certainly looked frightened. ‘Have you seen him before?’

Mary shook her head. ‘He was a lot older than Rita or me. He wore a good suit and was quite handsome with lovely black wavy hair, but why would he want to know all about the agency, Edna?’

Edna didn’t have the answer to that but he was going to pass on this information to Molly as soon as possible.

‘I’ll make sure you get home safely, Mary, and you’re not to worry about this man. Perhaps he doesn’t have a chat up line and concentrates on his dancing partner’s work.’

Mary looked at her and although she was young, she realised Edna didn’t believe that. Nor did she.

After seeing Mary into the house, Edna retraced her steps to Paradise Road. This had been her first night out in ages. She had gone to the pictures with a friend and it was just chance that had placed her on the same tram as Mary.

Edna spent a sleepless night and early on Sunday morning she made up her mind.

She looked for the slip of paper with Molly’s home telephone number and after breakfast with Billy and her mother, went out to the telephone box on Constitution Road.

Edna slipped her three pennies in the slot and when Molly answered she pushed button A.

She decided to sound casual as she didn’t want to alarm Molly with a call on Sunday morning.

‘I don’t want to alarm you, Molly,’ she said, forgetting in her haste to speak, her promise to herself to sound casual. ‘It’s about Mary.’ She went on to tell the story of the meeting with the dark-haired man.

When she stopped speaking, Molly said, ‘I was coming over anyway, Edna. I’ll catch the ferry at eleven o’clock. Can you meet me at the agency about twelve?’

‘I’ll be there, Molly.’

Afterwards, when she was in the kitchen with Billy, she felt stupid. What had made her alarm Molly like that? Was it this over-zealous young man at the dancing? Surely the town was packed with eager young men who perhaps came on a bit strong with young impressionable girls.

She had also promised to take Billy to the park to play on the swings but she could do that later on the afternoon. At the moment he was lying on the rug in front of the fire, reading his comics.

‘Is it all right if we go out later to the park, Billy?’ she asked him.

He looked up and nodded and returned his gaze to the antics of the comic characters.

Over in Newport, Molly was puzzled by Edna’s call. What could have triggered this alarm by some young man in a dance hall? Still it was better to get it sorted out and hopefully there would be a logical explanation.

She had planned a quick visit to the office and then have a quiet day to herself with an afternoon visit to Marigold but now she would have to make her apologies.

Edna was waiting for her at the agency and followed her into the office. She was nervous and it showed.

‘What’s all this about Mary and some young man?’

Edna related the story again and Molly listened without saying a word. After she finished, Molly said, ‘Perhaps he was just making conversation.’

Edna shook her head. ‘No, he kept quizzing Mary about the agency. He mentioned it by name but how did he know she worked here? It doesn’t make sense. And he frightened her.’

Molly couldn’t see what the connection was but she was still puzzled.

Edna twisted her hands on her lap. ‘There’s something else, Molly. Yesterday, when I said I walked into a lamp post … well, I didn’t.’

Molly laughed out loud. ‘Oh, I never believed you for a minute but it’s your own business and I didn’t want to pry.’

Edna leaned forwards with a worried frown. ‘No, it wasn’t a private matter. As I was going to John Knox’s house someone jumped out from the entrance to Dudhope Park and pushed me against the stone pillars before hitting me hard on my face.’

Molly put her cup down where it landed with a clatter on the saucer.

‘Did you see who did it, Edna?’

Edna shook her head. ‘It was that very misty morning and it was just a dark shape, but it was definitely a man. I’m sure of that.’ She looked unhappy … ‘What’s going on, Molly?’

‘I don’t know, but we’ll go and see Mary at her house and see if she can add anything else to this.’

The two women made their way to Moncur Crescent on the tramcar. It was a very pleasant area with six houses to every close. The windows were especially pretty with large panes of glass in the bottom and six small panes at the top. The gardens were well kept and an area of land was landscaped with stubby bushes which swept downward towards the street. A few children were playing in the swing park across the road and their childish cries followed Molly and Edna as they made their way to Mary’s house.

‘What are you going to say to Mary’s mum?’

Molly didn’t know.

The door was opened by Mary and her dark eyes opened with shock at the sight of her employer standing on the doorstep. There was a small, nasty-looking bruise on her neck which she had tried to cover with the scarf she was wearing.

‘Miss McQueen. Is there something wrong?’

‘Who is it, Mary?’ said a voice from the interior. Mrs Watt appeared in the lobby behind her daughter and also looked surprised when she saw the visitors.

‘Come in, come in,’ she said, ushering them into a comfortable looking living room. ‘Mary put on the kettle and bring the tin of biscuits from the kitchen cabinet,’ she said.