Answer in the Negative

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Answer in the Negative Page 9

by Henrietta Hamilton


  When they were in the lift Johnny laughed almost wholeheartedly for the first time in two days.

  ‘He had you there, my love.’

  ‘I should have known better than to take him on. You did rather well, darling.’

  ‘I will not let that man take a rise out of me. I know damn well he won’t tell me where he was when Morningside was killed, and it isn’t the slightest use asking him. We shall just have to find out some other way.’

  They found Miss Quimper waiting for the lift in the basement passage. She nodded briefly to them and stepped in, and they went on to Negs. They turned left inside the glass doors and went along to the last gangway. Someone — presumably Miss Quimper herself — had left a chair at this end of it, and Johnny pushed Sally gently down.

  The place was nearly dark. The nearest fluorescent bar was a little way off. The shadows were thicker at the far end of the gangway, and presently Sally realised that it was closed, or almost closed, by a case standing at right angles to it.

  Time passed slowly. Footsteps and voices sounded muffled; it was difficult to judge their distance. Johnny and Sally, sharing the chair, saw Miss Quimper’s girls moving now and then between the gangways. But none of them came into the last gangway, and no one else appeared.

  The Heldars had come in just before half past three. Towards four o’clock the girls began to drift out; one of them said clearly, ‘Well, I’m going to have tea before she comes back and gives me something more to do.’ Probably they were supposed to go to the canteen in equal shifts. But a little after the hour three out of the four of them had slipped away.

  Sally was stiff and a little cold, though she and Johnny were still wearing their coats. Watching had become a mechanical thing, and when Teddy sidled into the room and round to the right it took her a moment or two to grasp the possible significance of what was happening. She woke up to it when he turned into the second gangway and Johnny’s arm, which was round her shoulders, tightened suddenly.

  But he made no other movement. He waited, and after two or three minutes Teddy reappeared, with his right hand in the pocket of his long black jacket. Walking very fast, and looking very pale, he passed out through the glass doors and disappeared.

  Johnny got swiftly to his feet, lifting Sally to hers. ‘Go up to Toby,’ he said quietly, ‘and tell him I think Teddy is responsible for the missing negs and pix. No action is to be taken, please, and no one else is to know yet. I’m going to make sure — Teddy may be sent out any minute, and he may take advantage of it. When you’ve seen Toby, go home. I mean that. You are not to come back here, and you are not to linger too long upstairs. Understand?’

  Sally understood. Johnny seldom gave her orders, but when he did, she had no choice. If she disobeyed him, she would be left out of it next time.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Promise.’

  They left Negs. Raucous adolescent voices coming from beyond an open door at the far end of the passage indicated the messengers’ room. Johnny left Sally outside the lift and started off towards the front of the building.

  She had reached Peex and was approaching Toby’s door when one of his assistants, coming up from another direction, saw her and stopped short.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Heldar,’ she said. ‘After you.’

  ‘I’m in no particular hurry,’ said Sally. ‘If you want to see Mr Lorn—’

  ‘I just want some pictures from his office. There’s no hurry for me either. Please go on, Mrs Heldar.’

  Sally smiled and thanked her, knocked on the door, thought she heard Toby’s voice, and walked in. The office was empty. She hesitated, puzzled, and then she heard Toby’s voice again. It was coming from beyond the glass hatch, which was an inch or two open, and it was very quiet and steady.

  ‘You know if there’s anything I can do to help I shall be very glad to do it.’

  ‘You’re being extremely fatherly.’ It was Selina’s voice, and curiously taut. ‘You want me to confess to you again?’

  ‘No, I don’t. I’m not asking you to talk about it if you don’t want to. You know I have no feelings about what you did to Morningside that evening. He’d done a good deal to you. I should only like to help you as much as I can if you’re unhappy — if you want to sort yourself out at all. Would you like to have dinner somewhere tonight?’

  Sally had made a move to leave Toby’s office. Then she had seen the assistant hovering. Anything was better than that one of Toby’s own staff should overhear this. She shut the door loudly. But Toby and Selina either didn’t hear it or didn’t realise how audible they were themselves. Sally stood still, looking out of the big window and down over the low parapet outside to the bombed site below.

  ‘That’s big of you,’ said Selina. ‘You sound like Frank. I ought to lead a godly, righteous, and sober life, and if I do, you’ll consent to be seen about with me. Thank you. But if I dine with anyone I’ll dine with Mike. At least he doesn’t invest the evening with an odour of sanctity. Or I might even get Lionel Silcutt to take me out. He can’t dance, but he’s much more of a ladies’ man than you’d think.’

  The door of Morningside’s office opened. Sally heard quick, light footsteps pass Toby’s, and took a chance. She walked straight out and was in time to see Selina sweep past an assistant, who tried to speak to her, and make for the glass doors at the Cuts end. There was no sign of Toby. Sally moved idly away. The assistant who wanted pictures went into his office and presently reappeared. Then he came out of Morningside’s. He was very white and looked a little dazed. But he saw Sally and said, ‘Hullo. Were you looking for me?’ His voice and manner were peculiarly gentle.

  He might protect Selina, but he would scarcely protect Teddy, and the story of the negs might prove a counter-irritant. Sally nodded, and he took her into his office.

  ‘Teddy,’ he said when she had finished. ‘Yes, of course he may be sent out any time. I could keep him in, but I gather Johnny’s all set.’

  ‘I think so. I imagine he’s lurking outside somewhere. Will you come to supper, Toby, and hear his news?’

  ‘Sweet of you, Sally, but I’ve still got that article to do. I’ll ring up later, if I may.’

  Sally repressed the urge to say something warm and comforting and went away. She used the side door again, and might have gone through Garrick Square, but curiosity about Johnny took her back down Thrale Passage and into Fleet Street.

  Someone was concealed behind a newspaper in the doorway of a small restaurant, closed at this hour, on the corner of the passage. As she passed the newspaper was lowered for a moment and Johnny winked at her. She winked back.

  Chapter Seven

  She got home in time to have the children in the drawing room for a while. They had had a rather thin time of it after tea for the last few days, and Peter at any rate had felt it. He was particularly uproarious this evening. The twins were easier to handle; Charles was observant rather than active, and Celia was a placid child. Nanny came for them at a quarter to six, and Sally managed to calm Peter down by reading to him.

  He had already asked several times where Daddy was, and she was beginning to wonder herself. When Nanny had come back for him, she went down to the kitchen and did something towards supper. It was after half past six when she started upstairs to say goodnight. She had just reached the first-floor landing when the telephone rang. Johnny, she thought. Or possibly Toby. She ran into the drawing room and answered it there.

  But it was a woman’s voice which spoke — a familiar voice, harsh but a little unsteady.

  ‘Is that Mrs Heldar? This is Miss Quimper speaking. I’m sorry to disturb you, but I wondered if I might speak to Mr Heldar.’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ said Sally, ‘but he’s not in yet. Could I give him a message?’

  Miss Quimper was silent for so long that Sally went on, ‘Or would you rather he rang you up when he gets in?’

  ‘No — I’ll tell you, if I may.’ Miss Quimper was growing more agitated. ‘Your husband was so kind th
is afternoon — you both were. I think I can trust him.’ She hesitated again, and then went straight into it.

  ‘I told you this afternoon that I saw Mr Morningside in Pix about twenty-five to seven that evening. I told you what I said to him and he said to me.’ (Sally was absurdly reminded of Consequences.) ‘But some of it — a little of it — was said the second time. After I went down at a quarter to seven, I kept worrying about it, because I hadn’t properly understood whether he was responsible for handling the old negs or not. So I gave him till nearly half past seven and then went up again. He’d said he was coming back after he’d had supper. I went up in the back lift again, and the light was on in Cuts. I looked in, and he was looking for something in one of the filing cabinets — he said Brigadier Camberley had asked him for a cutting and was in a hurry for it. He must have come up by one of the main lifts and straight through Pix — he obviously didn’t — didn’t — go into his own office first.’

  ‘Obviously not,’ said Sally gently. ‘I’m so glad you’ve told us this, Miss Quimper.’

  ‘I don’t know if it’ll help Mr Heldar. But it was on my conscience, and I felt it would be easier to tell him than the police. Anyhow, Mr Morningside was in a hurry — or he said he was. I think he was really so upset and nervy he couldn’t stand being bothered. I stayed for a couple of minutes while he found his cutting, and then we both came out. He went back into Pix, and I went down in the lift again and then home.’

  ‘I see,’ said Sally. ‘Thank you very much, Miss Quimper. And don’t worry. I can’t promise that my husband won’t tell the police, but he’ll sort things out. Are you at home, just in case he wants to ring you up?’

  ‘I shall be home in about half an hour. I’m still in Fleet Street — I came up to Mr Lorn’s office to phone. The switchboard is in Cuts, and the girls there always go off at five-thirty — Mr Knox is rather lax — and they don’t leave a line plugged through to Negs.’

  Poor Miss Quimper, thought Sally, writing down the telephone number of the boarding house. She mightn’t have had to work late if they hadn’t turned her out of her own department this afternoon. On a sudden impulse, Sally asked her if she wouldn’t come to supper and see Johnny, but she refused. She had unloaded her conscience, and she was evidently tired. Sally was rather relieved; Johnny would probably be tired too. But she was very sorry for Miss Quimper. It came suddenly home to her that she might have spent her whole life as Miss Quimper was spending hers, living alone, working too long, exaggerating small irritations, taking any real trouble painfully hard, becoming a trial and an embarrassment to everyone who had to do with her. And instead of that she had Johnny, and the uproarious Peter and the fat twins upstairs in bed. She went on to say goodnight to them, feeling that she could never be sufficiently thankful.

  Johnny appeared while she was still with Peter, in time to tell his usual Albert story. Albert was Peter’s Teddy Bear, and the stories about him made a saga which would probably not end till the twins became too old for it. Johnny was infinitely ingenious and infinitely patient.

  But when they were in the drawing room and she had given him a drink he started on a different story.

  ‘As you know, I waited at the mouth of Thrale Passage. That doorway was a bit of luck, but I should have preferred to wait in Garrick Square, because the side door of Echo House is almost on the corner of it, and I knew I might lose Teddy if he went that way. But when I explored it, I found there was no cover at all, and it was quite empty of passersby, so I felt I couldn’t risk it.

  ‘I very nearly did lose Teddy when he came out — that was about half past four. He cut through the square and led me at a spanking pace through a succession of alleys and lanes between bombed sites. I was convinced he was going to look round any minute and I was going to look the most frightful fool. I haven’t been trained to follow people. This went on for about four minutes, at the end of which he stopped outside an office building, handed an official packet to a large commissionaire, uttered some piece of rudeness, and turned and walked briskly back again — mercifully without noticing me. And that was that trip.

  ‘I waited in my doorway again, feeling just like a private detective and quite sure I looked like one. I waited till nearly half past five, and then Knox came out by the front door and passed me. Unfortunately he recognised me. He started very slightly, but he pulled himself together at once and said, “Hullo! This is extremely interesting. The operative on the job. How are you getting on?” I was irritated, and I knew Teddy might appear any minute, so I told him to be a good chap and get to hell out of it; I wasn’t interested in him. He grinned and went off, but I think,’ said Johnny reflectively, ‘he thought I was deliberately misleading him. When he’d gone about twenty yards he looked very quickly over his shoulder. I’m not quite sure which of us had the best of that encounter.

  ‘I was just recovering from it when Teddy came out into Fleet Street. He didn’t notice me; he went straight off in the direction of Ludgate Circus. The pavement was crowded, and he was in a hurry, and the only thing I was afraid of this time was losing him. At the Circus he turned into Farringdon Street. Beyond Farringdon Underground he turned right, into a narrow street called Farringdon Row. A little way up it he disappeared into a shop doorway. I passed by, cautiously, on the other side, and saw that he’d gone in. A blind was down over the door, so he’d evidently been let in after shop hours. But there were no blinds over the window. And the window display, Sally, was photographic equipment.’

  ‘You mean he was taking his negatives to be printed?’

  ‘I think so. By private arrangement, I fancy, with a buddy of his who is probably the shop assistant. I went back to the corner of Farringdon Street and waited behind my newspaper and walked up and down for about an hour. Then Teddy reappeared with a very flash type of twenty or thereabouts. I’d followed them about fifty yards when Teddy suddenly decided to run for a bus which was going back towards Ludgate Circus. I don’t think he’d seen me, though. His friend picked up a girl, and I found a taxi and came home.’

  ‘But,’ said Sally, ‘is he selling the prints?’

  ‘I think he must be. I’ve been working it out. According to Toby, the Archives make no charge for letting people look at a picture, but they ask a minimum of thirty shillings apiece for any pictures which are reproduced. Teddy must obviously undercut their price, and I don’t see that he can ask more than a guinea, even if he’s only selling one or two pictures to his client. Out of that he most certainly gives a cut to his buddy — that young man has never done anything for nothing in his life. I should think he takes at least half a crown a print, depending on number and size. But fifteen shillings to eighteen and six, say, would be quite good going from Teddy’s point of view. Not from everyone’s, though. For instance, I didn’t really think Selina was pinching pix. For someone with a higher-grade salary it almost certainly wouldn’t be worth the risk. A typist was possible, but a messenger was more likely, and given Teddy’s record he was the most likely of all.’ Johnny paused to light another cigarette.

  ‘One can see the sequence,’ he said, ‘both with the Hungarian Rising stuff and here. The Hungarian pix were missing last Friday and back in their place on Monday. The Hungarian negs were missing on Monday and back in their place on Wednesday afternoon. But in this case, we can go into more detail. The Venezuelan pix were in their place on Wednesday afternoon at five-thirty. Teddy came back a little after six-thirty and collected them — presumably he hadn’t found an opportunity of so doing during working hours. Presumably, again, he showed them to his client either on Wednesday evening or sometime on Thursday — that is, yesterday — and his client made a selection and placed an order. He may have tried to return them yesterday, but the police were in the Archives for the better part of the day, and he’s out a good deal. He succeeded in replacing them, unobserved, some time this morning, and this afternoon he took the corresponding negs. All pix have a number, and generally speaking, I gather, all negs have a correspo
nding number, so he wouldn’t have to compare them; he would just have a scrap of paper with the numbers on it. This evening he had the prints made; his buddy could do a very good job in an hour, or indeed in less. What worries me is that he may have gone straight off after that to deliver them to his client. But we can only hope not. He’ll probably replace the negs tomorrow, and if so, we’ll let him. And if he delivers his prints after that we must try to see where he goes. Tomorrow’s Saturday. Do you know if they work Saturday mornings in the Archives?’

  ‘No,’ said Sally. ‘I mean I don’t. But Toby’s ringing up, so you can ask him.’

  ‘I will. I really don’t see that I need tell the police — yet, at any rate. It seems most unlikely that this affair has any connection with Morningside’s death, and if it hasn’t it’s up to the Archives to take any action.’

  Sally agreed. Then she told him, reluctantly, about the scene between Toby and Selina, and he looked very anxious.

  ‘Oh, hell,’ he said wearily. ‘I suppose I shall have to talk to her. Not nice for Toby. Not nice for you. Not nice for any of us.’

  Sally went on to Miss Quimper’s new information. Johnny listened to it very carefully, and then shook his head. ‘It doesn’t get us any further,’ he said. ‘Except that it suggests that Miss Quimper herself is innocent — though Miss Quimper is nobody’s fool and there is apparently no confirmation of her story. The fact that Morningside died a few minutes later than we thought makes no difference at all. But I’ll go over it with her tomorrow morning — if she’s working.’

  Toby, who rang up after supper and was obviously worried by the Teddy story, said that the Archives staff, generally speaking, worked alternate Saturday mornings. Tomorrow was Teddy’s Saturday off — it coincided with Toby’s own. Miss Quimper, who was a slow worker and had a tiresome conscience, put in an appearance every Saturday.

  Two minutes later the telephone rang again. Johnny, who was still sitting on the arm of Sally’s chair, picked up the receiver and gave their number, and Sally listened with him.

 

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