In his office at the Regional Planning Board the Controller Motorways Midlands was having second thoughts about his plan for proving that Lady Maud was a blackmailer. The wretched woman had phoned the switchboard to say that she was coming in to Worford and wanted a word in private with him. Dundridge could well understand her desire for privacy but he did not share it. He had seen more than enough of Lady Maud in private and he had no intention of seeing any more. On the other hand she was hardly likely to threaten him with blackmail in front of a large audience. Dundridge paced up and down his office trying to find some way out of the quandary. In the end he decided to use Hoskins as a bodyguard. He sent for him.
“We’ve flushed the old cow out with that dynamiting,” he said.
“We’ve done what?” said Hoskins.
“She’s coming to see me this morning. I want you to be present.”
Hoskins had his doubts. “I don’t know about that,” he muttered. “And anyway, we haven’t started dynamiting yet.”
“But the task force has moved in, hasn’t it?”
“Yes, though I do wish you wouldn’t call it a task force. All this military jargon is getting on my nerves.”
“Never mind that,” said Dundridge. “The point is that she’s coming. I want you to conceal yourself somewhere where you can hear what she has to say and make an appearance if she turns nasty.”
“Turns nasty?” said Hoskins. “The bloody woman is nasty. She doesn’t have to turn it.”
“I mean if she becomes violent,” Dundridge explained. “Now then, we’ve got to find somewhere for you to hide.” He looked hopefully at a filing cabinet but Hoskins was adamant.
“Why can’t I just sit in the corner?” he asked.
“Because she wants to see me in private.”
“Well then see her in private for God’s sake,” said Hoskins. “She isn’t likely to assault you.”
“That’s what you think,” said Dundridge. “And in any case I want you as a witness. I have reason to believe that she is going to make an attempt to blackmail me.”
“Blackmail you?” said Hoskins turning pale. He didn’t like that “reason to believe”. It smacked of a policeman giving evidence.
“With photographs,” said Dundridge.
“With photographs?” echoed Hoskins, now thoroughly alarmed.
“Obscene photographs,” said Dundridge, with a deal more confidence than Hoskins happened to know was called for.
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
“I’m going to tell her to go jump in a lake,” said Dundridge.
Hoskins looked at him incredulously. To think that he had once described this extraordinary man as a nincompoop. The bastard was as tough as nails.
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” he said finally, “I’ll stand outside the door and listen to what she says. Will that do?”
Dundridge said it would have to and Hoskins hurried back to his office and phoned Mrs Williams.
“Sally,” he said, “this is you-know-who.”
“I don’t, you know,” said Mrs Williams, who had had a hard night.
“It’s me. Horsey, horsey catkins,” snarled Hoskins desperately searching for a pseudonym that would deceive anyone listening in on the switchboard.
“Horsey horsey catkins?”
“Hoskins, for God’s sake,” whispered Hoskins.
“Oh, Hoskins, why didn’t you say so in the first place?”
Hoskins controlled his frayed temper. “Listen carefully,” he said, “the gaff’s blown. The gaff. Gee for Gifuckingraffe. A for Animal. F for Freddie.”
“What’s it mean?” interrupted Mrs Williams.
“The fuzz,” said Hoskins. “It means the balloon’s going to go up. Burn the lot, you understand. Negatives, prints, the tootee. You’ve never heard of me and I’ve never heard of you. Get it. No names, no pack drill. And you’ve never been near the Golf Club.”
By the time he had put the phone down Mrs Williams had got the message. So had Hoskins. If Mrs Williams was going to be nabbed, he could be sure that he would be standing in the dock beside her. She had left him in no doubt about that.
He went back to Dundridge’s office and was there to open the door for Lady Maud when she arrived. Then he stationed himself outside and listened.
Inside Dundridge nerved himself for the ordeal. At least with Hoskins outside the door he could always call for help and in any case Lady Maud seemed to be rather better disposed towards him than he had expected.
“Mr Dundridge,” she said, taking a seat in front of his desk, “I would like to make it quite clear that I have come here this morning in no spirit of animosity. I know we’ve had our little contretemps in the past but as far as I am concerned all is forgiven and forgotten.”
Dundridge looked at her balefully and said nothing. As far as he was concerned nothing was ever likely to be forgotten and certainly he wasn’t in a forgiving mood.
“No, I have come here to ask for your co-operation,” she went on, “and I want to assure you that what I am about to say will go no further.”
Dundridge glanced at the door and said he was glad to hear it.
“Yes, I rather thought you might be,” said Lady Maud, “you see I have reason to believe that you have been the subject of a blackmail attempt.”
Dundridge stared at her. She knew damned well he had been subject to blackmail.
“What makes you think that?”
“These photographs,” said Lady Maud and, producing an envelope from her handbag, she spread the torn and charred fragments of the photographs out on the desk. Dundridge studied them carefully. Why the hell were they torn and charred? He sorted through them looking for his face. It wasn’t there. If she thought she was going to blackmail him with this lot she was very much mistaken.
“What about them?” he asked.
“You know nothing about them?”
“Certainly not,” said Dundridge, thoroughly confident now. He knew what had happened. He had left these photographs on Mr Ganglion’s desk. Ganglion had torn them up and thrown them in the fire and had then changed his mind. He had taken them out and had visited Lady Maud and explained that he, Dundridge, had accused her of blackmail. And here she was trying to wriggle out of it. Her next remark confirmed this theory.
“Then my husband has never tried to influence you in any of your decisions by using these photographs,” he said.
“Your husband? Your husband?” said Dundridge indignantly. “Are you suggesting that your husband has attempted to blackmail me with these… obscene photographs?”
“Yes,” said Lady Maud, “that is exactly what I am suggesting.”
“Then all I can say is that you are mistaken. Sir Giles has always treated me with the greatest consideration and courtesy, which is,” he glanced at the door before continuing courageously, “more than I can say for you.”
Lady Maud looked at him, mystified. “Is that all you have to say?”
“Yes,” said Dundridge, “except this. Why don’t you take those photographs to the police?”
Lady Maud hesitated. She hadn’t bargained on this attitude from Dundridge. “I don’t think that would be very sensible, do you?”
“Yes,” said Dundridge, “as a matter of fact I do. Now then I am a busy man and you are wasting my time. You know your way out.”
Lady Maud rose from her chair wrathfully. “How dare you speak to me like that?” she shouted.
Dundridge leapt out of his chair and opened the door. “Hoskins,” he said, “show Lady Maud Lynchwood out.”
“I will find my own way,” said Lady Maud, and stormed past them and down the corridor. Dundridge went back into his office and collapsed into his chair. He had called her bluff. He had shown her the door. Nobody could say the Controller Motorways Midlands wasn’t master in his own house. He was astonished at his own performance.
So was Hoskins. He stared at Dundridge for a moment and staggered back to his own office shaken by what he had just heard. She had confronted Dundridge with those awful photographs and he had had the nerve to tell her to take them to the police. My God, a man who could do that was capable of doing anything. The fat was really in the fire now. On the other hand she had said it wouldn’t be sensible. Hoskins agreed with her wholeheartedly. “She must be protecting Sir Giles,” he thought and wondered how the hell she had got hold of the photographs in the first place. For a moment he thought of phoning Sir Giles but decided against it. The best thing to do was to sit tight and keep his mouth shut and hope that things would blow over.