Frequent Hearses Part 1

Frequent Hea.r.s.es.

Edmund Crispin.

On all the line a sudden vengeance waits, And frequent hea.r.s.es shall besiege your gates.

a"To the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady.

Chapter One.

Taking Piccadilly Circus as your centre, draw a circle of radius eighteen miles, and you will find the major film studiosa"Denham, Elstree and the resta"dotted about its circ.u.mference. Long Fulton lies to the north-west. Should you wish to travel to Long Fulton from Oxford, your best plan is to entrain for London, and on arrival there set out afresh from Marylebone. The cross-country journey is prolonged and tedious, involving four changesa"at stations of progressively diminishing size and increasing antiquity, so that the effect is of witnessing a dramatised History of the Railways in reversea"and, in the upshot, a ruinous, draughty single-decker motor-bus. It is advisable, as a general rule, not to attempt this. That Gervase Fen persisted in doing so may be attributed first to his innate perversity and secondly to the fact that the spring season commonly made him torpid, so that to meander through the burgeoning March countryside at twenty miles an hour was an occupation which consorted well with his mood. By getting up at six he could be at Long Fulton comfortably by ten, the time at which script conferences were usually advertised to begin. And since in actual fact (the making of films being what it is) they never began until ten-thirty or eleven, there was ample opportunity for him to drink coffee in the canteen or to rove through the congeries of decrepit-looking structures in which the brain-children of the Leiper Combine were nursed from undisciplined infancy up to the final cutting, dubbing and reduplication which preceded their dbut on this or that West End screen. The amus.e.m.e.nt which this afforded Fen was never more than tenuous. He was unable to regard British films as in any way indispensable to the Good Life, and his own temporary responsibility at the studiosa"which was to provide expert information about the life and works of the poet Popea"weighed very lightly on him in consequence.

It was on the occasion of his third visita"a day of flying clouds and clear equinoctial sunlighta"that he first became aware of the existence of the girl who called herself Gloria Scott.

To all intents and purposes the studios had annihilated Long Fulton village, and there would have been a good deal of querulous correspondence about this in The Times had the evidence allowed anyone colourably to maintain that the process had been deleterious. It quickly proved, however, that regarded simply as a village there was little or nothing to be said in Long Fultonas favour; its architecture was uniformly undistinguished and its lack of historical and literary a.s.sociations such as to strike even the most resolute and exhaustive guide-books dumb. Moreover, it is certain that the villagers themselves would have opposed any attempt to protect them from the invasion of the Leiper Combine, for the building of the studios not only permitted them intoxicating glimpses of those deities (as persons interchangeable, but as stimuli sempiternal) to whose worship they addressed themselves twice weekly in the Regent at Gisford, but also enabled them, by sundry rapacious, underhand devices, to derive much monetary profit from the incursion. Like some uncouth Dana, Long Fulton was seduced by the irresistible amalgam of gold and G.o.dhead. And to the condition of helotry which inevitably followed, the villagers were by nature and instinct most admirably suited. Left to their own exiguous devices, they had mismanaged Long Fulton to the point of virtual extinction. They were only too glad to surrender their independence to the studios, and would have stood out in a body against any scheme that proposed restoring it to them.

The studios were as nearly in their midst as made no difference. They impended threateningly from behind the churcha"an extensive huddle of many disparate buildings which might have been the dollsa houses of some careless giant-child, kicked together anyhow in a corner of the nursery. Fronting the road there was an attempt at a facade, but its failure to impart coherence to the structures behind it was so patent that aesthetically it would have been a great deal preferable if the attempt had not been made at all. The road itself was decimated by a weight of traffic for which it had never been designed, and its air of dilapidation was echoed wherever you looked. The pervasive whitewash badly needed renewing; bomb damage (to the very last, German Intelligence had clung tenaciously to the conviction that the studios were an arms factory of some description)a"bomb damage had been patched up rather than properly repaired; and the great stages, towering monolithically above the other buildings, looked quite capable of folding up at the advent of a high wind. For all this, economic considerationsa"the industry is for ever in the toils of one financial crisis or anothera"were no doubt responsible; but the general untidiness of the scene was accentuated by the surrounding estate, which was cluttered up with realistically wrecked aeroplanes, half-demolished plywood cottages, immense blue sky-screens, mystifying pyramids of sand, small lighthouses and all manner of other miscellaneous bric-a-brac.

Nor were matters very much improved when you got inside. There were large zigzag cracks in the walls; flakes of whitewash were liable to detach themselves from the ceilings and settle in your hair; dust was omnipresent and cleanliness doubtful; of the multiplicity of telephones which const.i.tuted the princ.i.p.al furnishings, at least a third were perpetually out of order. Moreover, the topography of the place was so irrational and obscure as to make it seem inchoate. It possessed, certainly, a few permanent landmarks such as the Music Department and the Script Department, but for the rest it appeared to be made up of numerous small, bare rooms, identically furnished with chairs, a table and the inevitable telephone, which were employed for official and unofficial confabulations and could be distinguished one from another only by a surrealist system of digits and letters of the alphabet; and to locate any particular one of these unaided was a considerable enterprise. More than anything else, perhaps, the studio lacked a focus. A decisive single main entrance might have provided this, but in fact there were three main entrances, severely egalitarian in their amenities and with nothing to choose between them except that one of them gave access to the place where you wanted to arrive and the other two did not; and in none of them was there anywhere where enquiries could be made and some species of orientation established. To the mere stranger it was all vastly confusing.

Mere strangers, however, were few and far between; for obvious reasons, the organisation did not encourage their presence. And it was to be presumed that Mr. Leiperas employees, set in their habitual orbits and pursuing their familiar avocations, could find their way about all right. Certainly they were a diverse community: innumerable technicians, meditating strikes; stenographers with impeccably dressed hair, as instinct with poise as the heroines of a woman novelist; camera crews; continuity girls; youngish directors; well-shaven, lounge-suited producers and executives, rather older; actors and actresses in their make-up; aextrasa, swathed in boredom as in a garment; canteen staff; porters and messengers. By their united labours romance would come to Wigan, to West Hartlepool overmastering adventure, to Birmingham and Aberystwyth an anodyne against the pains of living. Hand clutched in sticky hand, head against shoulder, Jane and George, Sally and d.i.c.k would for three hours at least s.n.a.t.c.h immunity, by the studiosa contriving, from war and the rumours of war, from domestic contention and public strife, from tedium and malice and routine and the struggle to keep alivea Long Fulton, in short, was a notable well-head of our most potent latter-day religion; and this being so, some degree of hubris might reasonably have been expected of its acolytes. Yet these studio people were not, on the whole, vainglorious. Like Gulliver among the Brobdingnagians, they were acutely conscious of the more squalid defects of that to which they ministered, and were therefore constantly surpriseda"if not, indeed, actively repelleda"by the homage which it so unfailingly exacted from the millions of its worshippers. Only rarely did the glamour of aa job with filmsa go to anyoneas heada"and though the girl who called herself Gloria Scott may have suffered from such delusions of grandeur, she had the excuse of being young, and was in any case a person of very little consequence. Her death, and the appalling consequences which followed it, was perhaps shocking precisely because she was so unimportant; it was as if a bomb had gone off in an area confidently scheduled by the authorities as completely safea The bus from Gisford went no farther than aThe Beara, a failing hostelry at the opposite end of the village from the studios. From that point, then, Fen was obliged to walk and on the morning in question he was negotiating the main street, with a copy of The Amba.s.sadors held open in front of his face, when a small saloon car pulled up beside him.

aThe studios,a said a voice from within it. aCan you tell me, please, if Iam right for the studios?a Half of Fenas attention lingered on the unconscionable Strether; with the other half he delivered an affirmative. He was about to expand this with specific directions when an exclamation checked him.

aProfessor Fen!a said the caras occupant cordially. aThis is a very pleasant coincidence indeed. How are you?a And at this Fen shook himself hurriedly free of the stupor which the prose of Henry James invariably induced in him, stooped, and peered in at the car window.

Sitting benignantly at the wheel, like a well-disposed gnome, he saw a small, neat, dapper man of between fifty and sixty, with greying hair, a round, clean-shaven pink face, and innocent blue eyes. A slender cheroot was in the corner of his mouth; a grey Homburg hat surmounted him; shining brown shoes were on his feet. You would have put him down, perhaps, as a prosperous and engaging commercial traveller with mild pretensions to culturea"and it may be that some such effect was what he aimed at, for the habit of camouflage had often been useful to him in dealing with the complexities of metropolitan crime. But his appearance expressed his true nature faithfully enough: he was in fact, and without affectation, tidy-minded, disarming, unaggressively cultivated; and although these traits were undeniably of a.s.sistance to him in his work at New Scotland Yard, he had always successfully resisted the temptationa"a natural enough temptation in the circ.u.mstancesa"to gild the lily by exaggerating them into a pose.

aHumbleby,a said Fen, enlightened; and extended a hand which Humbleby moved flaccidly up and down inside the car. aTwo years, is it, or three?a aA little less than two, I fancy.a And Humbleby nodded approval of his own ac.u.men. aThe Sanford affair was in September of 1947. Have you been back there since that time? I understand that you didnat get into Parliament after all. What a good thing. Have you heard that Myraaa For a minute or two they gossiped about the case which had brought them together. You may remember ita"it was the business of the ex-prost.i.tute who was poisoned through the post. Then Fen, suddenly tiring of these reminiscences, said: aBut why are you going to the studios? Police business?a Humbleby nodded. aOf a sort. This is what you once, I believe, called a acriminological holiday taska. But nothing very sensationala"as far as you can tell at the momenta I am right for the studios, I suppose?a aThose are they.a Fen pointed. aThose fanciful white buildings behind the trees. The gateas about two hundred yards along on the left. Iam on the way there myself, so you can give me a lift.a aBy all means.a Humbleby opened the car door, and Fen climbed in. aWhatas that youare reading?a aThe Amba.s.sadors.a aNarcotic,a said Humbleby. aI always feel that Henry James ought to be dealt with in the Dangerous Drugs Act, and perhaps used in childbirth as an alternative to trilenea Here we go, then.a Humbleby had no talent for cars, and they moved off in spasms along the almost deserted street. The sun shone down on them with impersonal benevolence, and a dog, mis...o...b..ing their intentions, barked tremulously at them from the kerb. Humbleby put out his tongue at it as they pa.s.sed.

aAnd you,a he said, aa"are you just paying a visit to the studios, or are you professionally occupied there?a aThe latter.a Fen stiffened as they approached a bend in the road, and did not relax until again they were safely round it. aBut only as casual labour. Iam acting as literary adviser in connection with a film theyare making.a aBless us,a said Humbleby. aA film about what?a aItas based on the life of Pope.a The final words of this statement were drowned out by an imperious, and apparently quite disinterested, blast on Humblebyas horn. aBased,a Fen reiterated irritably, aon the life of Pope.a aThe Pope?a aPope.a aNow which Pope would that be, I wonder?a said Humbleby, with the air of one who tries to take an intelligent interest in what is going forward. aPius, or Clement, ora"a Fen stared at him. aAlexander, of course.a aYou meanaa"Humbleby spoke with something of an efforta"ayou mean the Borgia?a aDonat be so ridiculous, Humbleby,a said Fen. aDo you really imagine theyave called in a Professor of English to instruct them about the Borgias? No, I mean the poet, of course.a aThat was my first thoughtaa"Humbleby was aggrieveda"abut naturally I rejected it out of hand. Thereas nothing in Popeas life that anyone could possibly make a commercial film of.a aSo one would imagine.a Fen shook his head gloomily. aNone the less, a film is in fact going to be made. And the reason for thata"a He checked himself in order to flourish a mandatory finger at the studio gate, where they had now arrived. They swerved in past the disregard of a gatekeeper in a sort of sentry-box. Pa.s.ses were supposed to be shown, but except on the days when extras were being interviewed this rule was seldom enforced. aThe reason for that,a Fen repeated doggedly, ais as follows. A few months ago Andrew Leiper died, and his brothera"a But Humbleby was not attending. Instead, he was searching for a gap in the line of expensive-looking carsa"monuments, many of these, to an involved scheme for hoodwinking the Inland Revenue Department which were parked, nose inward, along the front of the studios. Presently he found one and sc.r.a.ped into it.

aYes?a he said encouragingly. aYou were saying?a aI was saying that this company used to be owned by a man called Andrew Leiper. Andrew Leiper died recently, however, and the company, along with his other interests, was inherited by his elder brother Giles.a And Fen pointed to the facade above them, where a group of workmen were engageda"and in their leisurely way had been engaged for the past three weeksa"in subst.i.tuting, in the great gilt-letter sign ANDREW LEIPER FILMS INC., the word GILES for the word ANDREW. aSi monumentum requirisaa aJust so.a Humbleby switched off his engine, removed the cheroot from his mouth, and examined the end of it attentively. aBut as to the immediate relevance of the situation you describea"a aWeare coming to thata Now, Gilesas sole claim to distinction is that heas a literary crank. He believes, for instance, that the Earl of Rutland wrote Shakespeareas plays (with the exception of The Tempest, which he ascribes to Beaumont and Fletcher), and heas published a nasty little book which purports to prove it. He believes that Dryden was impotent, and that incestuous relations between Emily and Bramwell were responsible for Wuthering Heights. In fact, Iam inclined to think that he believes that it was Bramwell, and not Emily, who actually wrote Wuthering Heightsa But all thatas by the way. The point is that Giles Leiper has ideas about Pope, too. Do you know the Ode to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady?a aDr. Johnson,a said Humbleby with the cautious deliberation of one who treads slippery conversational ground, ainterpreted it as an apologia for suicide.a aSo he did. Anda"a aBut I like it,a said Humbleby, suddenly enthusiastic. aI like it very much indeed. aWhat beckaning ghost,aa he intoned dramatically, aaalong the moonlight shade Invites my something something something glade. aTis she!a"but why that bleedinga"aa aPlease, please.a Fen fished a packet of cigarettes from the pocket of his coat and lit one. aYour recollection of the piece seems to be very indistinct. Iad better explain what itas about. It concernsa"a aThereas not the least necessitya"a aIt is an Elegy to a girl who has killed herself as a result of beinga"uma"callously deserted by her husband. The poeta"a aI remember it very clearly,a said Humbleby. aVery clearly indeed.a aThe poet, in addition to deploring this situation, announces his belief that vengeance will overtake not only the husband, but the whole of his family as well.a aaWhile the long funerals,aa chanted Humbleby in solemn antiphon, aadarken all the way.aa aBlacken all the way, blackena The girl may have been a Mrs. Weston, by birth a Miss Gage. But thatas conjectural. The poem was almost certainly a mere imaginative exercise, and thereas not the smallest evidence that Pope was in any way personally involved. Which brings us to Giles Leiper.a aBrings us, at long last, to Giles Leiper.a aLeiper believes, along with his other fatuities, that Pope was personally involved. Not long ago, in fact, he wrote an article in some tawdry journal or other stating his conviction that Pope had had an affair with this girl, and that that was why he was so upset about her death. aAre we to understand,aa Fen quoted with repugnance, a athat a poem as deeply felt as this was no more than a callous exercise in versification? Is it not much more in accordance with our knowledge of poets and poetry to a.s.sume that Pope was intimately interested in the lady?aa aWell, isnat it?a said Humbleby, taken genuinely unawares.

aNo, it isnat. And even if it were, thereas not, in this case, the smallest justification for imagining that Popeas connection with the girl was anything but platonica Anyway, itas this supposit.i.tious affair that the film is chiefly abouta"though a lot of other things come into it, of course.a Fen considered these, not without pleasure. aThereas Lady Mary Wortley Montagu. There are Addison and Swifta"Swift is depicted as walking about the country all day, writing Gulliver, thinking erotic thoughts about Stella, and having little preliminary or proleptic fits of madness. Thereas also, and somewhat anachronistically, Bolingbroke.a Humbleby chuckled. aAnd Dryden and Wycherley,a he said, aand Handel and Gay and Queen Anne. I mustnat miss this film. How far has it got?a aItas not on the floor yet.a aOn the floor?a aYes, Iam sorry: their d.a.m.nable jargon is infectious. I mean that they havenat actually started making it yet. Weare still at the stage of script conferences.a And Fen glanced at his watch. aThereas one this morninga"which is why Iam here.a Humbleby threw the end of his cheroot out of the window. aYouare not in a hurry, I hope?a aNot specially, no. Before I go, tell me what youare doing here. If it isnat confidential, that is.a aNo, it isnat confidential.a At the reminder of his mission a certain sombreness had invaded Humblebyas bland countenance. aAnd knowing these people, you may possibly be able to help me.a aA crime?a aSuicide is a crime, yes. But thereas nothing special about this one, except that the poor wretch was so very young, and thought better of it at the last momenta"though too late to save herselfaa And Humbleby braced himself, as a man braces himself when confronted with a necessary but wholly disagreeable task. aTell me,a he said, ahave you ever come across a girl called Gloria Scott?a A group of cleanersa"stolid, morose, elderly womena"drifted in at the studio gate; their voices, exchanging laborious witticisms with the gatekeeper, rasped unpleasantly through the limpid morning air. The men on the scaffolding had ceased work and were recouping their energies with cold tea. A distant succession of reverberating b.u.mps suggested that someone was loading or unloading balks of timber. And as Humbleby spoke, the shadow of a great cloud curtained the studios from north to south, so that, by contrast, the low hills where the sun still shone glittered like polished metal.

aGloria Scott?a Fen echoed. aNo, Iam afraid the name doesnat convey anything to me.a Humbleby was absently fingering the lapel of his light-grey overcoat. aIam not clear,a he said, aas to whether she actually worked here or not. But it was from here that Missa"umaa"he consulted with his memorya"aMiss Flecker rang up to identify her. Perhaps you know Miss Flecker?a aNo, I donat,a said Fen restively. aAnd all this means nothing to me, nothing. Explain, please.a aYouave seen this morningas paper?a aThe Times and the Mail only.a aThe Mail had it in. A photograph of this girl, with a request for identification.a Fen produced the paper from his pocket and hunted through it. aThere,a said Humbleby, pointing.

The photograph was of a pretty, sulky-looking girl in her late teens. It was a portrait of that contrived and glamorous sort favoured by the acting profession, with the lips, nose, neck, and b.r.e.a.s.t.s sharply outlined by careful lighting. The accompanying letterpress was scant, conveying no more than that the police wished to know who she was.

aThereas a sense in which one recognises her, of course,a said Fen thoughtfully. aYou can see that photographa"or something pretty well indistinguishable from ita"outside almost every repertory theatre in the countrya What was shea"brunette, red-head, mousy? They all come out the same in black-and-white photographs.a aAuburn, when I saw her. Saturated auburn, with a dressing of Thames mud and Thames weed.a Fen glanced at him sympathetically. aWell?a he said. aWhat about it?a aIt happened early yesterday morninga"thatas to say, during the night before last, at about 2 a.m. A taxi picked this girl up at the Piccadilly end of Half Moon Street, where she was talking to some man whom the driver didnat particularly notice. She asked to be taken to an address in Stamford Street, on the other side of the river. Then, when they were in the middle of Waterloo Bridge, she told the driver to stop. She was a good deal overwrought, it seems, and the driver didnat immediately start off again when shead paid him. He watched her run towards the parapet, and as soon as he realised what she was going to do, he ran after her. The bridge was almost deserted, but there was a police-car coming across it, and the people in that saw what happened. The taxi-driver made a grab at her as she went over, but it was too late. She came up once, and screameda"shead fallen flat on the surface of the water, and you know what that does to you when you fall from a height. One of the men in the police-car dived in after her, but she was dead when he got her ash.o.r.e.a The cleaners had disappeared inside the studios. A shooting-brake, crammed with carpenters in overalls, emerged noisily from a hidden entrance to the left. But Fen hardly noticed it: in imagination he stood on the vacant, lamplit expanses of Waterloo Bridge, peering over the parapet at a figure which floundered through the shallows and the mud, dragging after him the limp, rent body of an auburn-haired girla The cloud, driven hapless towards the north-west, had unveiled the sun again; yet for all that Fen shivered slightly, feeling on his mouth the night wind and in his nostrils the smell of the river at low tide. Such visions were not, of course, germane to the matter in hand: they would certainly be distorted, certainly incomplete. But it was with a curious reluctance that he put them asidea aYes,a he said. aGo on.a Humbleby shifted uneasilya"conscious, perhaps, that it is when a man is most sincere that he is apt to sound most histrionic.

aThe whole business,a he said, awas dealt with, of course, by the Divisional Superintendent. And he happens to be my brother-in-lawa"years ago, when he was only a sergeant, we were on a case together, and he met my sister at my flat and fell for her, G.o.d help hima Anyway, I hadnat seen him for a long time, and being on holiday, I dropped in at the station yesterday morning, and he told me all about it. As youall have guessed, it was identifying the girl that was the difficulty. Shead dropped her handbag on the bridge, but there wasnat anything at all revealing in it except for the photograph, and that didnat have the photographeras name on it. And her clothes were all new and not marked, so they didnat help either.a aBut the address,a said Fen, a little surprised at Humblebyas ignoring what seemed the first and most obvious line of approach to the problem. aThe address she gave to the taxi-driver.a aUseless. We found it all right, but it didnat help us to identify her. Shead only moved in there the previous afternoon, and hadnat so far either signed the register or handed over her ration-book. Shead told the landlady her name, of course, but the landlady was deaf and didnat catch ita It really looked as if the Fates were in a conspiracy to make trouble for us.a aBut her belongingsa"papers and so forthaa aAh, yes. This is where the one really odd feature of the affair comes in.a And Humbleby paused, not displeased at having something mildly bizarre to relate. aBy the time we got to it, her room and her things had been searched.a A ragged flight of blackbirds pa.s.sed overhead, peering inquisitively down at the studio roofs. In a window in the wall directly facing them, a smooth-looking young man appeared, gazed at them suspiciously, muttered something to a companion invisible behind him, and vanished again. Humbleby, distrait, was playing with the door-handle. He was not normally a fidgety man, and Fen interpreted this as a sign of considerable perturbation.

aSearched?a he said. aSearched for what?a aFor signs of identification. Everything of that sorta"papers, photographs, the fly-leaves of one or two booksa"had been removed and taken away. The laundry-marks had been cut out of all the clothes and the paper lining of the lid of a suitcase, which had obviously had a name and address on it, had been torn out. And whoever did it was thorough. We werenat able to find a single thing head missed.a aBut thatas extraordinary,a said Fen rather blankly. aIf shead been murdered, nowa But I suppose thereas no doubta"a aNone whatever. She killed herself all right. But mind you, there might quite well be someone who didnat want her motive for killing herself to become known, and chose this rather oblique way ofa"uma"occluding ita For instance, itas possible she was pregnant. We shall know about that when the autopsy report comes in.a Fen nodded. aOdd,a he commented. aAnd interesting in so far as whoever was responsible must surely have realised that there was a very fair chance, in spite of all his efforts, of her being identified in the end. Unlessaa aUnless what?a aYou say youave now discovered that her name was Gloria Scott?a aThatas what this Miss Flecker said over the phone.a aYes. Well, I donat want to put wrong ideas into your head, but it sounds to me as if it might conceivably be a stage name.a Humbleby considered this. aaGloriaa,a he murmured. aYes, I see what you mean. And in that case, it would probably be her real ident.i.ty that the murderer was trying to conceal.a aQuite soa But all this is hypothetical at present. Let me get one or two other things clear. For instance, is there any indication as to when this girlas room was searched?a Humbleby had stopped fidgeting with the door-handle and was now manipulating the gear lever. aYes,a he said, athereas a pretty clear indication, as a matter of fact. It was almost certainly done during yesterday morning.a aAfter she killed herself?a aAfter she killed herself, yes. I neednat go into all the details, but from the time when she arriveda"Thursday, the day before yesterday, in the afternoona"until about nine oaclock yesterday morning, there really wasnat a chance for anyone to get in and out un.o.bserved and at the same time remain there long enough to do what was done; anyone, that is, except the landlady, whom thereas no possible reason to suspect. For one reason and another, the Super and I werenat able to get down to making a search ourselves till yesterday afternoon, and by that time the mischief was done.a And Humbleby paused expectantly. aWell,a he said presently, awhat do you make of it?a aVery little.a Fen sniffed deprecatorily and moved his long legs about in an attempt to mitigate the cramp which was stealing over them. aVery little indeed. This business of obliterating ident.i.ty may not be connected with the suicidea"in which case itas quite unfathomable at present. But if it is connected, there arises the question of how the person concerned knew the suicide had happened. Was it reported in yesterdayas morning papers?a aOnly a brief paragraph. The picture wasnat published, and no names were givena"since at that stage there werenat any names to give.a aOur X might, I suppose, have actually been present when this girl threw herself into the river. Or anyway when they were pulling her out. Were there many lookers-on, do you know?a aA fewa Yes, thatas a possibility.a Humbleby had engaged the lever in first gear and was struggling to disengage it again. aUndeniably,a he said, breathing heavily, aitas obscure.a aDo leave the car alone, Humbleby; youall break something in a minutea Yes, well, the only thing is to find out a bit more about the girl. And that, I take it, is why youare here.a Humbleby relinquished his efforts and gazed at the lever with distaste. He took a sc.r.a.p of paper from his pocket, wrote on it the words aBe carefula"you have left this car in geara, and propped it up against the windscreen.

aYes,a he agreed, athatas why Iam here. The call from this Flecker girl, whoad seen the picture in the papers, came through about half-past eight this morning, and I offered to drive here and interview hera To tell you the truth,a said Humbleby confidingly, aIave always wanted to see the inside of a film studio, and this is the first chance Iave had.a In that confined s.p.a.ce Fenas cramp was growing intolerable. He brought the colloquy to an abrupt conclusion by opening the door and getting out.

aWell, youall be disappointed,a he said unkindly. aAnd if I donat go now, I shall be late. Can we arrange to meet at lunch-time?a aWait a minute, wait a minute,a said Humbleby, emerging hastily on the other side. aIall come in with you, and you can help me locate this person Iam here to see.a aI very much doubt if I can. But Iall do my best.a They crossed the gravel to the nearest of the three entrances, mounted a short flight of steps and went inside. A circular vestibule received them. The monogram A.L.F. appeared in faded mosaic on its floor, and to the right of it, blocking the lower third of a Roman arch, was a species of reception desk with, however, no one behind it. The prospect beyond was of a corridor, bifurcating in the middle distance, with a number of doors marked PRIVATE on either side. Film studios go in terror of fire, and a great many buckets, coiled hoses and extinguishers were visible. But of other furnishing, and for that matter of human occupation, the place gave no sign. Abashed by its chilly quietude, Fen and Humbleby halted.

aIn my simple-minded way,a said Humbleby, aI had antic.i.p.ated something like a cross between a lupanar and an automobile factory. No doubt weare as yet only on the outer fringes. But stilla"a He broke off as footsteps, accompanied by a noisy, convulsive fit of coughing, burst upon them from a hitherto unnoticed pa.s.sage to the left. This humanising influence materialised into a small, slim man of between thirty and forty, who strode into the vestibule with a handkerchief pressed to his mouth. He had a brown and humorously ugly face decorated with large and beautiful eyes, and Humbleby, who was a tolerably regular theatre-goer, recognised him at once.

So also, apparently, did Fen; he said unsympathetically: aYouare ill.a aLike h.e.l.l I am,a the new-comer croaked back. aYou havenat any whisky on you, by any chance?a aNone.a aYouad imagine that even in a G.o.d-awful hole like this whisky would be procurable somewhere or other, but it isnat. Iam going into the village to see if I can w.a.n.gle somea By the way, this morningas script conference has been postponed till eleven. And itas not in thirteen, itas in CC, wherever that may be. Oh, and Leiper isnat going to be therea"which means that Iam not, either, if I can get out of it.a The new-comer moved towards the door. aOf all the d.a.m.ned silly films ever contemplatedaa aJust a moment,a said Fen. aDo you know where we can find a Miss Flecker?a The man paused. His face grew red and he sneezed twice before replying. aFlecker? Flecker? Thatas a girl who works in the Music Department, isnat it?a aWell, where is the Music Department?a aOh, thatas easy.a He pointed. aYou go along there and take the right fork, and thena"oh no, blast it, Iam thinking of one of the sound stages. Well, letas see nowa I think if you take the left forka"a aYou havenat,a said Fen coldly, athe slightest notion where it is.a aOh, yes, I a.s.sure you. Curse it, Iave been there. The trouble really is that though this place seems to reduplicate itself as you go about it, you never get an exact repet.i.tion: thereas always a room or a corridor thatas different. I tell you whataa"a novel and satisfying idea occurred to him at this pointa"ayou ask someone; thatas your best plan.a He moved towards the door again. aYes, thatas your best plan, I think. I may see you later.a He departed in a fresh fit of coughing.

aStuart North, wasnat it?a asked Humbleby; and he spoke the name with a good deal of respect. aI didnat know head taken to the films.a aHeas made only one so far,a said Fen. aVisa for Heaven, or some such trashy name. Heas due to play Pope in this fantasy Iave been telling you about, and after that heas going back to the stage.a aHead be rather good as Pope, I should imagine. Given a little artificial deformity, he has the right physique. And facially heas not unlike, either.a aI donat think,a said Fen vaguely, athat Popeas deformity is going to be stressed very mucha Well, wead better find the Music Department, I suppose. As my conference has been postponed, I can come with you. Letas ask this girl.a aThis girla, now approaching with the glazed, intent expression of an amateur juggler about to embark on the most precarious part of his act, was a blonde stenographer, so superlatively groomed that she looked as if she would crack open at a touch. (aLupanar,a said Humbleby with satisfaction. aWe progress, then.a) She proved willing enough to lead them to the Music Department, and in her charge they traversed a warren of bare corridors and staircases, eventually fetching up at an unmarked door which she earnestly a.s.sured them was what they wanted. They thanked her and went in, finding themselves in a small room with two desks and a large filing-cabinet, where some half-dozen young people were giggling together and consuming tea. An amiable-looking youth detached himself from this group and asked Fen and Humbleby what he could do for them.

aMiss Flecker,a said Humbleby. aWeare in search of a Miss Flecker.a aIall see if sheas busy.a The youth put down his cup and opened a door which led to an adjoining room. aJudy,a he said, athereas two men want to see you.a A girlas voice from within, pleasantly drawling and with a suspicion of a lisp, demanded to be told who they were.

aWho are you?a the youth enquired agreeably from the doorway.

aDetective-Inspector Humbleby,a said Humbleby, aof Scotland Yard.a aCripesa I say, Judy, itasa"a aYes, all right, I heard,a said the voice. aAsk them to come in, please. Come in, Inspector,a she called. aAnd, Johnny, bring them some tea.a From behind a littered but business-like desk, as they went in, she got up to welcome thema"a girl in her middle twenties with sleek black hair, cool grey eyes and a clear complexion. She possessed two of the rarest physical attributes of her s.e.x, broad shoulders and long legs; and she wore a tailored navy-blue coat and skirt with an oyster-coloured blouse and a brooch of diamonds encircling a sapphire so dark as to be almost black. But for her intelligence, and the mildly sardonic look in her eye, she would have been what the Sunday Pictorial is apt to describe as aa lovelya. Inside the room Humbleby halted, at gaze; and after no more than a secondas calculation she addressed herself to him.

ah.e.l.lo, Inspector,a she said. aDo sit down, wonat you?a The windows looked out on to a crossing of asphalt paths, and you could glimpse a corner of the immense carpentersa shop, with a prospect of trees beyond. Near them was an armchair, and into this Humbleby cautiously lowered himself.

aThis,a he observed, ais Professor Gervase Fen. He isaa"and Humbleby paused, momentarily perplexeda"ahe is a.s.sisting me, I suppose you might say.a aHow do you do,a said Miss Flecker civilly. aI have heard of you, of course. And I was hoping that while you were working here we might be able to meet. How is the Pope film progressing?a In default of a second chair, Fen had settled on the edge of the desk, and was regarding Miss Flecker with undisguised approval. aVery little, I should say; but as Iam not familiar with film-making Iam scarcely in a position to judgea Thereas a lot,a said Fen pensively, aof quarrelling.a aThere would be.a Miss Flecker grinned mischievously. aThe Cranes enfamille are not a very sedative influence, in my experience.a aCranes?a echoed Humbleby in polite incomprehension.

aYou must be aware of Madge Crane,a said Miss Flecker, aeven if you havenat heard of her brothers.a She turned to Fen. aMadge is playing Lady Mary, isnat she?a aSuitably bowdlerised,a Fen agreed gravely, aand chiefly occupied, when not offering Pope wise and kindly advice about personal matters which are no possible concern of hers, in introducing inoculation against smallpox from Turkey.a And Humbleby nodded, enlightened. aMadge Crane is a Star, then?a he ventured.

aYou really hadnat heard of her?a Miss Flecker chuckled maliciously. aShe would be pleased. Madge is one of the First Ladies of British Films.a aFirst Laa"a Humbleby shook his head in bafflement. aWhatever can that mean?a aWell, I think it means that sheas no longer obliged to make films in which she has to show her legs.a Miss Flecker delivered this judgment with notable dispa.s.sion. aAnd that saves everyone a lot of trouble, because they always did have to be filmed very carefully if they were going to come out looking like anything at all.a The door opened and the youth called Johnny appeared with two cups of tea, which he handed to Fen and Humbleby. aWeave finished off the biscuits,a he announced without visible remorse, aso Iam afraid youall have to do withouta Judy, the L.S.O. is hanging about on Stage Two complaining because Griswold hasnat turned up. Where is he?a aHe had to go to Denham to see Muir about something or other, and he said he might be late. Calm them, Johnny, calm them. Tell them to sit down and practise a symphony. Has Ireland arrived yet?a aNot yet.a aWell, mind you behave respectfully to him when he does.a aYou donat think,a said Johnny wistfully, athat it would be a good idea for me to run them through a few of the music sections while theyare waiting?a aNo, I donat. Go away and get on with your work.a Johnny retired in dejection, and Miss Flecker was saying aWell nowaa when the telephone rang. ad.a.m.n,a she said. aExcuse mea Yes, put him througha Good morning, Dr. Busha"Geoffrey, I should saya Triple woodwind? Well, I imagine it might be managed; Iall ask Mr. Griswolda Itall be the Philharmonia, yes.a Dr. Bush crackled prolongedly, aNo measurements for reels four and five yet? All right, Iall nag thema Yes, I know you canat be expected to write a score if you havenat got any measurementsa No, thereas not the least chance of postponing the recording; youall just have to work all night as well as all daya Have you sent any of the score to the copyists yet? a Well, youad better get on with it, hadnat you?a See you at the recordinga Noa Certainly not. Good-bye.a She put down the instrument. aA composer,a she explained soberly, like one who refers to some necessary but unromantic bodily function. aIam sorry things have to get hectic the moment you arrive. Perhaps now we shall have a few minutesa peace.a She retrieved her cup and drank the tepid tea in it with a grimace. aOh, Lord, measurementsa Johnny!a she called; and when that individual put his head hopefully in at the door: aJohnny, get on to Loring, will you, and tell him Dr. Bush is waiting for the measurements for reels four and five of Escape to Purgatory.a aHeall only go all pathetic on me,a said Johnny, his optimism abating at this request, aand say theyare doing their best.a aTell him they must do better if they want any incidental music for those reelsa And, Johnny, see to it that Iam not disturbed for ten minutes, please.a With a doleful nod Johnny vanished, and Miss Flecker relaxed gratefully in her chair. aAt last,a she said. aAnd I really do apologise.a aNot at all,a said Humbleby. aItas we who should apologise for interrupting you.a He produced a notebook and a gold propelling pencil and cleared his throat premonitorily. aNow as regards this girlaa aAre you in a positionaa"Miss Flecker spoke a trifle warilya"ato tell me why you want to know about her?a aCertainly.a And Humbleby eyed her in an innocent-seeming way which in reality masked swift and shrewd powers of observation. aShe has committed suicide.a For a moment there was silence. Clearly Miss Flecker was shocked, though the only sign she gave was a slight lifting of the eye-brows.

aSuicide,a she murmureda"and during a brief interval seemed preoccupied with rapid inward calculation. aAny reason given?a aNo. Can you yourself think of any?a Miss Flecker hesitated. aThe gossip is that she was going to have a baby, but I donat believe much of what Iam told in this place, so donat rely on it. In any case, I suppose that an autopsya"a aJust so.a Humbleby was at his most judicial. aBut may we start at the beginning, please? Your namea"a He poised his pencil expectantly.

aIs Judith Annecy Flecker. Age twenty-six. Occupation, Secretary to the Long Fulton Music Department.a aGood. And the name of this girl whose picture you saw in the paper is Gloria Scott.a aShe called herself that, yes.a Humbleby glanced up from the notebook. aThat was just a stage name, you mean?a Miss Flecker crossed her admirable legs and contemplated them for a moment with a satisfaction in which Fen, who does not scorn simple pleasures, abundantly partic.i.p.ated. aI think it was only a stage name,a she said, abut youall have to ask someone who knew her better than I did. And if it was, Iave not the ghost of a notion about her real name, Iam afraid.a aYou didnat know her well, then?a aOnly very casually. But I thought Iad better ring you up about her, because I know what the people here are like. Half a hundred of them will have seen and recognised that photograph, and theyall all be studiously engaged in leaving the job of communicating with you to someone else. So I thought Iad forestall their havering. Did anyone else from here telephone you, by the way?a aNo one had when I left,a said Humbleby. aBut mind you, that was some time ago, and you got in early. I shall ring up Charles in a momenta"thatas the Superintendent in charge of the casea"and ask him if anything else has come through from here. In the meantimeaa"he smiled with real charma"aIam very pleased to be able to talk to you. And if youall just tell me anything you know about the girlaa Miss Flecker nodded, and her gaze moved reflectively about the pleasant, untidy room, with its severely functional windows, its murmurous radiators, its book-case of ma.n.u.script musical scores. aWell, you wonat want me to describe her,a she said, abecause youave got that photograph. It flatters her, of course, but itas a fair likeness. She was abouta"oh, nineteen, I imagine.a aMarried, or engaged?a aNeither.a aAny particular man?a Miss Flecker smiled wryly. aGossip ascribes her to Maurice Crane and Stuart North, but how much truth there is in it I donat know. Possibly none. Iave seen her with both of them, but that means nothing.a aAnd to which of them does gossip ascribe hera"uma"hypothetical pregnancy?a aAs far as I know,a said Miss Flecker decorously, aopinion is evenly divided. Itas no use my pretending,a she added with sudden candour, athat I donat listen to gossip, because I do. I pa.s.s it on, tooa"as youall have noticed. But as to believing it, thatas another matter. So I ought to warn youa Oh, d.a.m.n.a She broke off as the telephone rang again, and picked it up with a movement of irritation.

aJohnny, I thought I said I wasnat to be disturbeda Oh. Thatas differenta Yes, you did quite right. Sorry.a She held out the instrument to Humbleby. aItas for you.a aHullo, Charles,a said Humbleby. aWhat news?a And for a full minute he remained silent while the receiver, like a witchas familiar, muttered insinuatingly into his ear. aAll right as far as it goes,a he commented at last. aHave there been any further calls from here? None? aNoaa"he glanced at Miss Fleckera"aapparently that was to be expecteda Yes, Iam enjoying myself very much, thank youa Donat expect me till after lunch. If anything interesting develops Iall phone youa No, not so far: weare only just getting down to it nowa Yes, all right. Good-bye.a He rang off. aGossip was right in one respect, anyway,a he said drily: atheyave done the autopsy, and she was about three months on the waya Poor silly child. Does that sort of thing happen very often in this profession?a aNo, it doesnat,a said Judy. aIn spite of popular superst.i.tion on the subject, weare a very respectable community, even if a rather simple-minded one. Thatas the reason, really, why thereas been so much talk about Gloria Scotta I suppose that now youall be aiming to find out where Gloria and Stuart and Maurice were three months ago.a aExactly. Christmasa"which ought to make it a bit easier.a Humbleby was tapping the end of his pencil meditatively against his thumb-nail. aFrom what you know of the girl, now, do you think this pregnancy could be a motive for her killing herself? Was she the sort of person to get hysterical over a thing like that?a aMm, thatas awkward.a Judy took a cigarette from the case which Fen offered her, and, murmuring thanks, lit it with a heavy table lighter. aYou see, I didnat know her all that well: we had lunch together once or twice in the Club here, and thatas about all. But from what I did see of her, I should say the answer to your question was No. She was emotionally unstablea"or anyway, that was how she struck mea"but not, I fancy, along quite those linesa Iam afraid all this must sound very woolly and unsatisfactory, but you asked for my impression, and for what itas worth, thatas it.a aBut if the man concerned had refused toa"toa"a aTo make an honest woman of her? We-ella Shead certainly have been upset, but I canat see her going so far as to kill herself.a Fen, who up to now had been unwontedly silent, said briefly and directly: aWhy not? a aBecausea"well, because she was one of those people whose emotional life is less important to them thana"other things.a aAh,a said Fen, athis is more to the point. In her case, less important than what other things?a aWella"than her career, say.a aShe was very ambitious, then?a aOh, yes.a aWas she liked?a aIam afraid not.a aWhy wasnat she liked? a aShe was conceiteda"aggressively conceited. A lot of people in this business are, but they mostly manage to conceal the fact. She didnat.a aAnd the faults we most dislike in others,a Fen murmured, aare generally those we unwittingly display ourselves.a He paused to consider this citation, and apparently found it, or his own gratuitous use of it, in some fashion distasteful. aBut you yourselfa"did you like her?a aYes. I did.a Miss Flecker made this admission with a certain reluctance. aShe was very youngaa"Miss Fleckeras twenty-six years were as she spoke mysteriously trans.m.u.ted to an infinity of rich experiencea"aand very eager. Oddly defenceless, too, as single-minded people so often tend to be. Yes, I liked her. But there werenat many other people who did.a aWith the exception, presumablyaa"Humblebyas intrusion on this nebulous duologue was clearly designed to restore a sense of realitiesa"aof Mr. Crane and Mr. North.a And he contemplated Fen with the satisfaction of a man who at one blow has expelled metaphysics with common sense. Fen, however, was unabashed.

aYou miss the point, Humbleby,a he said waspishly. aSane people commit suicide only from motives which seem to them, rightly or wrongly, to be overwhelmingly important. And Miss Flecker, as a result of my own intelligent questioning, has indicated that in Gloria Scottas case those motives were probably bound up with her career.a aWhich leads us,a said Humbleby, not at all perturbed by this reproof, ato enquire what professional set-backs she has suffered just recently.a And he looked enquiringly at Miss Flecker.

But she shook her head. aItas rather the reverse, Iam afraid. After she came herea"a aWait, wait,a said Humbleby, applying himself hurriedly to his notebook. aWhen did she come here?a aAbout a year ago, I think. She was taken on as an extra, to start with.a aAnd where did she come from?a aIave an idea she was in repertory, but which repertory I canat say.a aWe ought to find that out easily enougha Sorry to interrupt. Go on.a aAs I say, she was taken on as an extra. After that she got a cameo part in a film calleda"d.a.m.n, what was it?a Judy flicked her fingers irritably. aOh, I remembera"Visa for Heaven.a aA cameo part?a aYes, you know: the film equivalent of a bit part on the stage. Something just a little more important than merely walking on. And then the last thing I hearda"though I wouldnat swear to its being truea"is that Jocelyn Stafford signed her up for quite a good part in this Pope film.a Fen looked up. aReally? Do you know what part?a aMartha Blount, she said.a aItas a role which gets more and more etiolated,a said Fen cheerfully, aas one script conference follows another. But even so, not a bad chance for a girl whoas virtually unknown. Have you any idea how she came by the job?a aYes, I rather fancy it was Maurice Craneas doing.a aWe seem to be hearing a great deal about this fellow,a Humbleby complained, abut Iam sorry to say that I for one havenat the remotest idea who or what he is. Do please explain.a aHeas Madge Craneas youngest brother,a said Judy, athe other two being Nicholas Crane, whoas a director, and David Crane, whoas something very minor in the Script Department. Maurice is a camera-mana"and a very good one, which means that heas an influential person hereabouts.a aDo you suppose that his getting Gloria Scott this part would be an attempt at reparation fora"uma"coercing her into maternity?a aIt might be. If in fact he was responsible for that.a aThereas another candidate, of course.a And Humbleby sighed dejectedly. aOf the two men, which would be the more adversely affected by the publication of Miss Scottasa"uma"condition? a aStuart North, certainly. Camera-men, however good, arenat celebrities. Actors are.a Judy replied so promptly that for a moment the tangential nature of the question did not strike her; when it did, she said inquisitively: aWhy do you ask that?a aItas possible,a Humbleby answered with reserve, athat someone may have made an attempt to conceal the motive for Gloria Scottas suicide.a aYou mean torn up a suicide note, or something like that?a aSomething like that.a aStuart North would certainly have more reason for doing that than Maurice Crane. On the other handa"a Judyas grey eyes widened suddenly. ah.e.l.l, what a fool Iam being! Iave just remembered.a aRemembered what?a aThat Stuart North was in America during December and January, doing a short run of a Shaw play on Broadway. And Gloria was very definitely in England. So weave been maligning Stuart.a aYou think, then, that Maurice Cranea"a aHe or someone else.a aI supposeaa"Humbleby scratched his nose ruefullya"athat you canat think of anyone, Crane apart, who would be likely to know?a aThereas one possibility, yesa"a girl called Valerie Bryant, who was Gloriaas particular friend.a aWhere can we find her?a aIave an idea sheas working on a film nowa"a musical comedy called Gaiety Sue.a aLumme,a said Humbleby; it was his affectation to relapse occasionally into the milder forms of plebeian slang. aIs she an actress, then?a aA chorus girl.a aAnd it would be possible for me to meet her this morning, would it?a aThat depends on the shooting schedules. The filmas on the floor all right, but they maynat today be doing anything sheas concerned in. I can find out for you.a aI wish you would.a Judy resorted to the telephone. aJohnny,a she said, aget me someone whoas working on Gaiety Sue, will you?a Yes, Weinberg will probably do.a There was a pause; with her hand over the microphone, aWeinberg is the jazz end of this department,a Judy explained. aHeasa"Oh, h.e.l.lo, Sam. I want to know what, theyare doing with Sue today. Is the chorus here? aIt is? Good. What stage are they working on? aFive? Right. Thanks very much. Bye-bye.a She returned the instrument to its cradle. aAllas well,a she said. aJohnnyall take you across as soon as you want to go, and rout out the Bryant girl for you. I warn you, sheas pretty dumba Well. Is there anything else?a aLetas see where weave arrived.a Ceremoniously Humbleby consulted his notebook. aGloria Scott had been given this part in the Pope filma Now, how long ago did that happen?a aNot more than a fortnight ago,a said Judy definitely. aPerhaps less.a aAnd she was pleased?a aLord, yesa"on top of the world. A few days back I met her by chance on the way here, and she told me about it then. It had quite gone to her head, silly infant, and she was so exasperatingly vain about it I could have spanked her.a aYou get the impression that it was genuinely a fait accompli? Thataa"Humbleby gestured vaguelya"athat things had been signed?a aOh, certainly.a aShe couldnat have been making it all up? Have beena"uma"antic.i.p.ating the event?a Judy shook her head. aShe could have beena"she was quite capable of counting her chickens before they were hatcheda"but in this case Iam almost sure she wasnat. The thing to do would be to go to the Legal Department and look for the contract.a aIall do that, yes.a Humbleby made a note. aBecause if that contract does exist, it makes her suicide somewhat unaccountable.a aExactly what I was thinking,a said Judy. She got up and began to pace restlessly about the room. aFrom what I know of her, I shouldnat have imagined that any motive, however overwhelming, would have been sufficient to offset that contract.a aThough, of courseaa"and here Humbleby shifted uneasily in his chaira"athere is the point that if this film were not to be puta"uma"on the floor for some time to come, the advance of her pregnancy might make it impossible for her to act in it.a aI havenat the least doubt,a said Judy briefly, athat she intended to get rid of the child before it was born. Such things are done. And she wouldnat have been so c.o.c.k-a-hoop about the part if she hadnat envisaged a way out of that difficulty.a aUm. Ah,a said Humbleby, embarra.s.sed. aJust so. Well, youave been very helpful, Miss Flecker. And from now on we must stand on our own feet.a He got up and did this, presumably by way of ill.u.s.tration. aI think, perhaps, thata"a aJust one other thing,a said Judy hesitantly. aHowa"how did it happen?a Humbleby told hera"while she stood with puckered brows, like one who swallows a disagreeable medicine, and the whining of a mechanical saw in the carpentersa shop provided a cheerlessly impersonal obbligato to the narrative. When it was over she nodded.

aThatas very much the way I should have expected Gloria to do it, if she was going to do it at all. No premeditationa"just a sudden appreciation of the means, and a sudden uncontrollable impulse. Thatas very like her. And itas very like her, tooaa"Judy moved her shoulders as if to mitigate an access of gruea"ato regret it the instant it was done. Her way of living was to do rash things and then regret them the instant they were doneaa Judyas voice dropped suddenly. aOh, Lorda she said, and steadied herself against the desk.

For a moment they were all silent. Then the door opened and a middle-aged man, completely bald, looked in at them. With an effort Judy pulled herself together. aHallo, Frank,a she said.

ah.e.l.lo, Judy. L.S.O. here?a aYes.a aIreland here?a aNot yet.a aWhat stage are we on?a aTwo.a aAh.a The man nodded and vanished; after a very brief interval he reappeared, said aGood morninga briskly to Humbleby and Fen, and vanished a second time before they had a chance to reply.

Judy called Johnny in. aJohnny, will you take these two gentlemen to Stage Five and find them a girl called Valerie Bryant? Sheas in the chorus.a aOke,a said Johnny inelegantly. aI know her. Leggy girl, dumb.a aAnd on the way,a said Humbleby, awead better look in at your Legal Department.a aCan do,a said Johnny.

Miss Flecker shook hands with Humbleby and Fen.

And Fen, whose attentiveness had latterly alternated with an absence of mind which made him appear slightly halfwitted, said: aJust one other thing. What was the att.i.tude of the Crane family to Gloria Scott?a aThe Crane family?a Judy was a good deal surprised.

aWell, as to David, I donat think she knew him, or he her. Maurice Iave told you about. Iave no notion what Nicholas thought of her. And Madgea"well, thatas easy: she disliked Gloria very much.a aWhy?a aBecause of Stuart North.a aOh? Oh?a Fen raised his eyebrows. aA rivalry?a aMadge is promiscuous, but she has her preferences, and Stuart North is the current one. Unfortunately his preference seemed to be for Gloria.a aAnd did Miss Crane relish the prospect of working with Gloria in The Unfortunate Lady, do you think?a aThatas a point,a said Judy, interested. aI should imagine she was furious. In factaa aIn fact what?a aOh, nothinga But it might be worth your while to enquire just what Madgeas reactions were.a aYes,a said Fen. aWeall do that, I expect.a He moved towards the door. aThanks very much, Miss Flecker. Weall leave you in peace now.a aCome and see me any time you feel inclined.a Fen smiled. aThat would be too often to be convenient. But Iall let you know what, if anything, we find out.a aAnd, by the way,a said Humbleby, akeep all this to yourself for the time being, will you?a aOf course.a aMany thanks, then. And good-bye for the present.a It is only in idleness, Fen reflected as he was led away from the relatively humane atmosphere of the Music Department, that men are capable of impressing their personality on their dwelling-places; purposeful activity depersonalises even the best of buildings absolutely, making it seem as negative and meaningless as an empty egg-sh.e.l.l. And the studios were not, certainly, among the best of buildings. They represented, with all the detailed appositeness of a text-book ill.u.s.tration, that point at which the pursuit of the purely functional over-reaches itself and becomes absurd. Even in its primary intention of promoting efficiency, architecture like this was bound to fail, since the psychological effect of these blank, indistinguishable corridors, these vistas of fire-buckets, these monotonously unadorned stone staircases and metal bal.u.s.ters, must to the community moving among them be enervating and discouraging in the extreme. The persons to be encountered did not, it is true, seem visibly afflicted by their ghastly surroundings; but acquiescence in ugliness is even more devastating, spiritually, than the impotent enduring of it, and in an industry which was concerned with making pretty visual patterns, and in which the finer flowers of the imagination blossomed so spa.r.s.ely, it was a pity that to the uncertain cultural level of its moving spirits should be superadded the additional disadvantage of a grotesquely depressing mise-en-scenea It became clear, as time went on, that the Legal Department was quite a considerable distance away. Led by Johnnya"who, perhaps by way of encouragement, unintermittently whistled a personal redaction of La Donna e Mobilea"Fen and Humbleby negotiated a long recession of halls and pa.s.sages which in the upshot brought them, quite implausibly, to French windows giving on to a small, sinister, overgrown courtyard, tentatively Arabic in style and with a patently unworkable fountain at its centre; with its pitted walls it looked, Fen thought, like a place of execution left over from the Spanish Civil War. At its far side a flight of steps impelled them underground, and they traversed a short, dimly lit tunnel which inexplicably debouched, through a rickety wooden door, on to the roof of a box-like single-storey building; and from this, having achieved ground level by means of a spiral staircase, they emerged, disconcertingly enough, in front of a genuine greystone Victorian villa nestling amid laurestinus and rhododendrons. By this kaleidoscopic sequence of incongruities Humbleby was provoked to a m.u.f.fled imprecation; and Johnny, who clearly took pride in the studios and who equally clearly interpreted this noise as a deprecatory comment on the relic confronting them, desisted from whistling for long enough to explain apologetically that the villa was already there when the studios were built and that in consequence it had been permitted to remaina"-on sufferance, like a sort of Red Indian Reservationa"amid the modernistic splendours put up by the Leiper organisation.

aAnd itas only the Legal Department that uses it,a he addeda"much, Fen thought, as a man might justify his possession of a cheap cotton handkerchief by saying that he kept it only to blow his nose on. aThereas the door.a With this unnecessary informationa"apparently he feared that left to their own devices Fen and Humbleby would never succeed in making an entrya"he beckoned them forward and into the presence, inside the villa, of another youth, with a pencil behind his ear, who greeted them mistrustfully and on learning Humblebyas ident.i.ty retired, with enhanced suspicion, to consult with some person of more consequence than himself. Presently he returneda"faintly complacent, like one who has contrived in the face of great odds to introduce a mountain into the presence of a propheta"with an exhausted-looking, grey-haired man; and with this individual Humbleby went into conference on the subject of Gloria Scottas contract for The Unfortunate Lady, learning that it did, in fact, exist, that it had been signed nine days previously, and that the remuneration and conditions were normal for that type of agreement.

aResponsibility for a.s.signing the part?a the grey-haired man said in answer to a question. aOh, that rests with the producer, though of course there are other people he consults about it.a aAh,a said Humbleby. aI think thatas all I want to know, then. Thank you very much.a They retrieved Johnny, who by now had exchanged La Donna e Mobile for O Star of Eve, and set off in search of Valerie Bryant. The box-like building, the underground tunnel and the Arabic courtyard marked the stages of their return to the main body of the studios, but thereafter they struck out into hitherto unexplored territory, and it was only after a lengthy and bewildering journey that they came at last to the barnlike vastness of Stage Five. The end at which they entered it was in virtual darkness (there were, of course, no windows), but in the middle distance a moderate degree of activity was discernible, and across the tangle of ropes and cables on the floor they plodded cautiously towards this. The facade of a London public-housea"of the rococo type distinguished by Mr. Osbert Lancaster as Public-house Cla.s.sica"met their gaze; opposite it, on a frame covered with black cloth, the rudiments of shops were sketched in white chalk; in front of it was a pavement; inside it, and partly visible through the painted-gla.s.s windows, a number of extras in Victorian costume stood about waiting for something to happen. On the pavement were two young women in bustles and bonnets. A camera confronted them, with a microphone suspended above it on a boom like a carrot in front of a donkey, and a man in shirt-sleeves was measuring wi