Smallbone Deceased

“It was commonly believed in the office,” said John, “that once, just before the turn of the present century, one of Abel Horniman’s leases had the signature eaten off by a mouse, a mishap which gave rise to expensive litigation in the Chancery Division. Accordingly he sat down and devised the Horniman dust-proof, moisture-proof, air-proof and, indeed, mouse-proof deed box—”

“I see.”

“With all due respect for the departed”—John placed both his feet tenderly on the desk—“it’s typical of a lot that the old boy did. All his ideas were sound enough in themselves, you know, the indexes and the cross-checking and what not—it was just the lengths to which he carried everything—Hello, yes—”

“Mr. Craine wants you.”

“Curse him. All right, Anne—”

“Miss Mildmay to you.”

“I say, you haven’t got a hangover too, have you?”

“Certainly not, Mr. Cove.”

“Well, stop trying to put me in my place, Anne, and convey my respects to Tubby and tell him I’ll be along in a minute.”

“You convey your own respects,” said Miss Mildmay. “And take the Batchelor file with you. I gather Mr. Craine wants to discuss the arithmetic in your completion statement.”

“Does he though,” said John uneasily.

He took his legs off the desk and departed.

“Have you got all you want, Mr. Bohun?”

“Thank you,” said Henry. “John Cove has been initiating me gently into some of the mysteries of the Horniman office system.”

“No doubt you were scared. I know I was at first. However, cheer up. It works quite well when you get used to it.”

“I expect it does. Can you tell me who’s going to do my work?”

“That’ll be Mrs. Porter. By the way, she’s new, too. She arrived at the end of last week. She doubles for you and Mr. Prince—he’s our Common Law clerk. You’ll find her in Miss Bellbas’s room. Just inside the door on the right as you come in.”

“Thank you,” said Henry. “I’ll go and have a word with her—as soon as I’ve got some ideas about what I want her to do.”

However, when he did get there, the room just inside the door was empty. Judging from the sounds coming out of it the entire staff of Horniman, Birley and Craine was collected in the partners’ secretaries’ room, on the other side of the entrance hall. He guessed that this was the hour of morning coffee. After some hesitation he hardened his heart, opened the door and went in.

He might have spared himself any embarrassment. Nobody took the slightest notice of him.

“But, Florrie,” Miss Chittering was saying, “when you’d made all your arrangements. It’s too bad.”

“You haven’t changed your mind again, have you?” said Miss Cornel.

“You can’t go altering your holiday”—Miss Mildmay sounded angry. “You’ll put everyone else’s out.”

“You’ve bought your ticket and everything.”

“Pull yourself together, Florrie.”

“It’s no good,” said Miss Bellbas. “The stars are against it.”

“Then defy the stars.”

“It’s no good, Miss Cornel.”

“Or take a different newspaper.”

“It isn’t the paper, Anne, it’s the stars.”

“Nonsense,” said Miss Mildmay. “How can you suppose that the stars can take any interest in your holiday. They must have more important things to think about.”

This reasoning fell on deaf ears. Miss Bellbas was fumbling in her capacious handbag and eventually produced a folded newspaper. The others crowded round her.

“Last month it was all right,” she said. “Look, there you are. ‘Virgo, August 24th to September 23rd’—that’s me—‘You will find fortune and a good companion on the great waters. Proceed boldly and overcome your natural qualms’—that’s right, too. Why, sometimes I’m sick before I even get on the boat. ‘Lucky colour red.’ Well, that was plain as plain. I went straight out and got a ticket for this cruise—”

“Why a Baltic cruise?”

“Well—lucky colour red—”

“Some might think it so, I suppose,” said Miss Cornel. “What happened next?”

“What happened?” said Miss Bellbas, almost in tears. “Why, look at it now!” She pointed to another paper, and Miss Cornel read out “‘Virgo, etc., etc. Avoid the sea at all costs. Your happiness lies in the hills. Turn your eyes to them. Things will open up surprisingly about the middle of the week. From a sum of money expended now you will reap a modest benefit in fourteen days’ time. Lucky colour grey’.”

“It’s so definite,” said Miss Bellbas. “I couldn’t go on, not in the face of that. Luckily the company took back the cruise tickets. I shall just have to wait till the stars come round again.”

“But, Florrie—”

“Now wait.” Miss Cornel spoke in an authoritative voice. She picked up both newspapers and a deep silence fell on the secretaries’ room, broken only by the plaintive ringing of the inter-office telephone, of which no one took the least notice. After close study of both papers she announced: “I have it. No—wait. Yes, of course.”

“What, Miss Cornel?”