by Neil Boyd
‘I tell you what, Father. I take your word for it he’s okay. I’ll give him a week’s trial. He can start tomorrow morning at eight o’clock.’
‘Thanks a lot, Tony.’
‘My pleasure. But do stress that to begin with it’s only for the week.’
I promised to do that. When I spoke to Archie later that afternoon, he was overjoyed at the opportunity of proving himself.
‘And yer didn’t let on about my record, Father?’ Before I could chastise him for doubting me, he said. ‘’Course you didn’t. I won’t let yer down. What’s past is over an’ done, ain’t that right? You can rely on Archie.’
Next morning, I took it into my head to visit the Marlowe family and at the same time check on whether Archie was behaving himself.
It was about 11.30 when I set foot in the shop. Archie was busy filling two tall shelves with cans of Heinz Baked Beans. When he saw me, far from looking apprehensive, he greeted me with a big trusting smile.
‘Nice to see yer, Father.’
‘You, too, Archie. I’ve come on a parish visitation to see the Marlowes.’
‘Mr Marlowe!’ called out Archie.
Tony had a small private office at the back where he kept his accounts and dealt with travelling salesmen.
‘Hello, Father,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a traveller with me at the moment. I’ll tell Rena you’re here.’
Rena came to collect me. ‘Come upstairs, Father, and I’ll get you a cup of coffee.’
In the sitting-room, Rena told me that Tony’s impressions of Archie were so far very favourable.
‘He works hard, he’s friendly with the customers and what’s more, he seems to be an honest bloke.’
‘That’s fine,’ I said.
‘Yes, there’s this old lady—always in here and a real pest she is—well, she was picking and prodding our tomatoes when she dropped her purse without noticing it. Archie saw what happened and gave it back to her. She had £15 in it, she said.’
We chatted on for about twenty minutes sipping coffee, when suddenly there was the sound of someone charging up the stairs and Tony burst into the room.
‘Fr Boyd,’ he blurted out, ‘there’s someone on the telephone. I think you ought to hear what he’s got to say. I’ve switched over the extension so you can listen in.’
With that, Tony rushed down the stairs again.
Wondering what this was all about, I picked up the phone as I’d seen Private Eyes pick it up in films. Through the earpiece I heard a door slam and Tony’s breathless voice, ‘I’ve just seen a salesman off the premises, sir. Now we can talk in peace and quiet. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind repeating what you said before.’
‘Nobody can overhear us, I take it?’
‘Nobody,’ said Tony, obviously not thinking it worthwhile to mention me.
‘First my name,’ came from a very cultured voice at the end of the line. ‘I’m Peregrine Worsley and I’m a retired accountant.’
‘Yes, Mr Worsley.’
‘I hope you don’t think I’m prying into your personal affairs but I couldn’t help noticing as I chanced to be strolling past your place an hour ago that there was a fellow, seemingly in your employ, whom I have come across before.’
‘That was probably my new assistant.’
‘Would he answer, by any chance, to the name of Archie Lee?’
‘He would.’
The caller sighed aristocratically. ‘I didn’t think I’d made a mistake. You see, Mr Marlowe, it is my unpleasant civic duty to appraise you of the fact that Archie Lee has a criminal record.’
I was glad I’d taken the precaution of putting my handkerchief over the mouthpiece, otherwise two gasps of horror would have assailed Mr Worsley’s ear.
‘A long criminal record,’ the caller emphasized.
‘Anything really serious?’ Tony managed to get out.
‘Theft.’
Tony said almost to himself: ‘I’ll have to make sure he keeps away from the cash desk.’
‘I’m afraid that’s not all, by any manner of means. Archie Lee has been incarcerated thirteen times and four of them for robbery with violence.’
‘Oh my God!’ exclaimed Tony as if he was about to make an act of contrition on my behalf. ‘G.B.H.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ questioned the imperturbable Mr Worsley.
‘Nothing, sir. Grievous bodily harm. That’s quite another matter, isn’t it?’
‘’Fraid so,’ drawled Mr Worsley. ‘I’d rather not say any more about this frightful business over the telephone. But, Mr Marlowe, if it’ll put your mind at rest and dispel any suspicion in your mind that I’m just a nasty anonymous caller intent on blackening a man’s character, I’ll willingly come and see you face to face.’
‘Perhaps that would be better, sir.’
‘More honourable, I feel. What time might your assistant be going to lunch?’
‘Mondays we close from one till two.’
‘May I come along, then, say about 1.15?’
‘Certainly, Mr Worsley, sir. I’ll make sure the coast is clear.’
After the call, I prepared myself for Tony’s justifiable annoyance.
‘How could you do this to me, Father? If news of this got out, don’t you know what this would do to trade? Imagine, having a violent criminal working in my store!’
I expressed heartfelt sorrow for my fault but in general terms.
‘I suppose,’ he said softening, ‘you didn’t realize Archie had a long record.’
‘I did,’ I admitted.
‘Then how could you, Father?’ said Tony, stamping his foot and puffing furiously at his cigarette.
‘I knew and I didn’t know, Tony.’
Rena came to my rescue. ‘The seal of confession, Father?’
‘Something like that.’
‘I’m sorry, Father,’ said Tony, gentle again. ‘The problem is what to do.’
Rena reminded Tony of the time he’d got drunk after a Cup Final at Wembley and thrown an empty quart-sized beer bottle at a pal. It missed and went through the big plate-glass window of Woolworths.
‘Yes,’ admitted Tony, ‘I was “interned” for a while for that.’
‘You were lucky you didn’t hit him, Tony,’ Rena added, ‘otherwise you’d have been doing porridge for six months or more.’
Turning to me, Tony said, ‘What Rena’s trying to say is that I turned violent once and was given a second chance.’
‘This isn’t quite the same thing, is it?’ I said, siding with Tony. I felt I owed him something. ‘That was an isolated incident when Tony’d had too much to drink.’
‘I agree, Father,’ Tony said, glad of support. ‘Archie Lee’s been bent all his life, so it seems.’
‘Once a crook …’ Rena said.
‘I’m not his fairy godmother, love, am I? Suppose Archie snatches an old lady’s handbag and clouts her on the head, the magistrate’ll say to me: ‘Did you know the accused had a prison record?’ I couldn’t take refuge in the seal of confession, could I?’
I turned my head away at the unintended rebuke.
‘Think,’ continued Tony, ‘how my reputation and the business would suffer. There’d be a headline in the local rag. I can just see it: “Grocer Employs Violent Ex-Con”. And, hell,’ he contributed as an afterthought, ‘some nosey reporter’s bound to dig up the fact that I’ve been in the nick myself.’
‘That settles it,’ Rena said with a trace of irony, ‘he’ll have to go.’
‘Let’s wait till Mr Worsley arrives,’ I proposed. ‘He may be able to advise us what’s the best course for all concerned.’
At one o’clock Tony dismissed Archie for lunch and soon Mr Peregrine Worsley put in an appearance. He was a stately figure, indeed: polished black shoes; well-creased, pin-striped trousers; black herring-bone jacket with grey silk tie and a rolled umbrella despite the perfect summer’s day. When he removed his bowler on entering the room he revealed a bald head as shiny as his shoes.
/> I took an instant dislike to him. Archie for all his rugged ways, was much more to my taste.
On seeing me, Mr Worsley turned to Tony. ‘Called in the strong arm of the Church, eh? Good show. I presume you have told the Vicar of the state of the game.’
Tony assured him I was well briefed.
The visitor hitched up his trousers as he sat down and said,
‘A most distressing visit, what, distressing to me and much more so to you.’
‘We’re grateful to you for taking the time and trouble to come,’ said Tony.
‘My card,’ he said, flourishing a visiting card on which I read at a glance, Peregrine A. Worsley, C.A. and an address which ended Chambers, ‘You may care to look at my credentials.’
‘No need, sir,’ said Tony, waving the card aside so that Mr Worsley returned it to his well-stacked wallet. He stroked his neatly trimmed moustache and adjusted his horn-rimmed spectacles with their very thick lenses.
‘I assure you,’ Mr Worsley said, returning to the point, ‘it’s no trouble. I’ve retired altogether from accountancy. If, in any minute particular, I can ameliorate this wicked world one whit, my life will be complete.’
‘To go back to Archie Lee,’ began Tony in his blunt way.
‘In the presence of your gracious lady and the local vicar, I’m not at leave to catalogue all the misdemeanours of the said Archie Lee. All I can prudently remark on at this moment is his cold-blooded brutality.’
‘He seems so gentle,’ I said.
‘Your kind-heartedness, sir,’ replied Mr Worsley, ‘is a credit to your cloth. Is it not right that you, a professional humanitarian, should defend the criminal?’
‘In only meant,’ I added, ‘that every one of God’s creatures is entitled to a chance.’
‘You are enhancing, sir,’ said Mr Worsley, ‘my opinion of the Church you represent with every utterance. A chance, I grant. Several chances, that too I will allow. But how many chances? That is the question.’
‘Seventy times seven,’ I proposed.
‘Sir, I feel altogether humbled in the presence of such magnanimity. But, I beg, can the Almighty Himself pardon an unrepentant sinner?’
I thought, ‘This Mr Worsley has theological insight as well as expertise in accountancy.’
‘No, He cannot,’ I conceded.
Mr Worsley now proceeded without interruption. ‘Do believe me when I say I am not judging Archie Lee. Many others are employed for that purpose by His Majesty’s Government. These unsocial habits he has acquired are traceable doubtless to upbringing, environment or personal misfortune. Which of us ought not to bow the head and say: “There but for the grace of God …?” But I must not trespass on your territory, Vicar, must I?’
I begged him to continue his admirable discourse. He was perfectly willing to oblige.
‘We should attempt to reform the individual criminal, that is true. But must not our chief priority be to protect the interests of the great innocent British public?’
‘Exactly what I think,’ said Tony.
‘Now,’ Mr Worsley said confidentially, ‘let me come clean, as the saying goes, and confess to you my indubitable bias. I happened once to be in a bank in Sunbury, drawing out some money, when in charged the energetic Archie Lee. I was able to witness at first hand the man’s barbaric behaviour. He hit one of the customers over the head with a … sandbag.’
Tony winced.
‘I remonstrated with him,’ said Mr Worsley, ‘and he threat-ended to “cosh” me too if I didn’t “shut my something trap”.’
We all exhibited, in varying ways, our disproval.
Mr Worsley went on: ‘As you may imagine, my lips were straightaway sealed, but not by any means for ever. The police, naturally, caught up with the miscreant; and that I followed the case very closely I have no need to assure you. I went to court myself in order to “open my trap” and give evidence. Indeed, I was in court the very day that Archie Lee was sentenced.’
‘What did he get?’ asked Tony.
‘Nine months that time. In my opinion, far too humble a sentence for the iniquitous crime I’d seen him commit.’
‘What to do now?’ asked Tony despairingly.
‘Can there be any dispute?’ said Mr Worsley, who seemed to know his way around such cases. ‘Surely you should dispense with his services forthwith.’
‘But on what grounds?’ said Tony. ‘And what if he decides to turn on me?’
Mr Worsley appealed to me: ‘Couldn’t you lend a hand, Vicar?’
‘I’d like to,’ I said, ‘but he might think I was the one who betrayed his confidence and lose faith in religion altogether.’
‘A sound argument,’ conceded Mr Worsley, to my considerable relief. ‘You are, reverend sir, if I may put it thus, so wise for a gentleman of such tender years.’
‘I’ve got an idea,’ said Tony, snapping his fingers, ‘if only you’ll give me a bit of help, Father.’
Back at the presbytery, I waited for signs of movement in Fr Duddleswell’s bedroom. As soon as he emerged puffy-eyed from his siesta, I invited him into my study to discuss the problem of Archie’s sacking. I omitted to say I had been the one to recommend Archie to Tony Marlowe.
After he had heard me out, Fr Duddleswell gave his opinion: ‘There is something very fishy about this Peregrine Worsley.’
I hadn’t liked the man, I granted, with his archaic use of language and ingratiating compliments. But he seemed trustworthy enough.
‘Not at all, Father Neil. In the first place, he gave his address as something “Chambers”. Now, there’s places aplenty in Kensington and Chelsea and Victoria with that kind of high falutin’ name but none such in Fairwater.’
‘Which means?’
‘It means he’s an outsider. He did not just “chance” to be strolling past Tony’s store. He must have come of set purpose. Second point: Mr Worsley claims to have seen Archie Lee working in a grocer’s shop on the very first morning he takes up his employment. First morning, mark you! What a coincidence, Father Neil! And why, in heaven’s name was an accountant interested in what is going on in a grocer’s shop? And, for good measure, what splendid eyesight our conscientious gentleman must have.’
‘In fact,’ I contributed, ‘he wears bi-focals.’
‘And he claims he saw Archie working in Tony Marlowe’s but did not ring up for a whole hour. Did he take that length of time to look up Tony’s number in the telephone directory, or was he perhaps hoping Archie would blot his copybook in the meanwhile? Mr Worsley does not tell a very plausible tale, d’you reckon?’
‘What can he be up to then?’
‘I’m my view, he’s shadowing Archie everywhere or perhaps employing a private detective to do it for him. What his motive is, I cannot tell for sure. Could be was frightened out of his wits when Archie threatened to cosh him and he has had it in for Archie ever since?’
‘And now he won’t let Archie hold down a steady job?’
‘Seems so, but ’tis only an educated guess. ’Tis something out of the ordinary, I’ll be bound.’
‘But Mr Worsley did take the trouble to come in person, Father.’
‘Even that might only be his way of exerting moral pressure. Tony’s a nice lad but easily swayed, you follow? He might be disposed by nature to give Archie a chance to make good but not when a respectable, establishment figure like Mr Worsley starts prying and showing disapproval. No, I feel Mr Worsley was pulling out all the stops to get Archie Lee dismissed.’
‘And he succeeded.’
As Fr Duddleswell got up to go, he said, ‘Father Neil?’
‘Yes?’
‘It was not you by any chance who found Archie that job?’
‘It was.’
Fr Duddleswell slumped down again. ‘You did not tell me that,’ he said uncomplainingly.
‘You didn’t ask, Father.’
‘A mental reservation?’
I swallowed hard but didn’t reply.
‘You h
ave one disadvantage, Father Neil, you know that? You have a nut made of glass.’ And he recited a verse from The Mikado, altering the words, as he sometimes did, to suit himself:
I know you well,
You cannot tell
A false or groundless tale—
You always try
To tell a lie
And every time you fail.
When he had finished, I said, ‘I knew he was an ex-con, but not that he had a record of violence.’
‘’Twas too risky anyway, lad.’
I thought for a moment before declaring stubbornly, ‘But if we take that attitude, how are we any different from Mr Worsley?’
‘Do you not see, Father Neil, that because a priest recommends a man for a job, the prospective employer does not vet him as he is entitled to do. We can employ an ex-con if we like but we ought not to foist him on another.’
‘That’s true,’ I said. ‘Chaps like Archie then’ll have to go on following falling stars. But I’m sorry, I made a mistake. You wouldn’t have done anything so stupid.’
‘I probably would at that,’ he said, slowly nodding his head.
‘You would?’
‘I was only telling you what I shouldn’t do, not what I would.’
‘You’d have gone against your better judgement?’
‘’Tis often, Father Neil, the only decent way to behave. Seeing what a lot of Pharisees we are, what great confidence can we put in our better judgement?’
‘So I did right, after all?’
‘No, young man, you did abysmal wrong.’
‘Like you would’ve?’
‘Correct. You asked me advice and I have to say, as any older and wiser mortal should: “For God Almighty’s sake, never follow my example.”’ He shook his head in despair of himself. ‘Tea in ten minutes.’
Then he upped and went.
I felt slightly better after that. Except that, for Tony’s sake, I had committed myself to aid and abet Mr Worsley in his campaign of victimization. How I disliked that bald-headed accountant with his immaculate attire and fat wallet. Why did he have to pursue Archie so ruthlessly, making him pay ten times over for his misdeeds and provoking him to a life of crime?
In my mind I went over Christ’s parable of the Pharisee and the publican. The Pharisee was named Peregrine and it was Archie who kept banging his breast with a jemmy and muttering, ‘Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner.’