‘No, mem.’ Anna shook her head in swift correction. ‘No, mem.’ She consulted a card she now handed over. ‘Mr Ira Cook.’
Of course, the rather acned young man she had last encountered when she and Liz had fetched George’s possessions. How ridiculous! she told herself. How could it possibly have been George? And what the hell did this individual want of her?
She scowled at Anna, who now shook her head at her as if she was a child and should behave herself. Blanche raised her eyebrows in irritated acquiescence and Anna hurried out.
‘Come in, won’t you?’ Blanche called as he appeared in the doorway. ‘Mr Cook.’ She made a movement that could have been the beginning of a handshake or a gesture of general welcome.
Mr Cook kept hold of his stiff, white, tropical trilby with both hands. He was thinner, she thought, and his spots were somewhat improved. Knocked off, she wondered, for he put her in mind of a scrawny young cockerel who, in his white and ruffled feathers, looked as if he’d lost out to an older cock.
‘Some tea?’ she asked as he still did not speak and she began to feel impatient with this hat-spinning young man. ‘Thank you.’
‘Well, sit down, for God’s sake, or we’ll both be fidgety.’
‘Thank you.’
Blanche waited, fascinated, as she perceived beads of sweat breaking out on the man’s forehead. He appeared to be seething with inner agitations. He should never have come out here, she decided, he should be teaching juniors in some downtown school in New York.
‘How’re things?’ she asked.
‘Terrible, Mrs Hammond, terrible.’ He squirmed in his chair as if incapable of finding a comfortable spot. ‘I’ve come to ask for your help. I know you visit Mr Harfield.’ He looked at her with such an intense, searching examination that she did not answer immediately when he asked, ‘Is he well? Mr Harfield. Really well, I mean.’
‘As well as any innocent man can be, locked away.’ She let her voice trail off into query and as he looked up at her she thought for a moment he was going to burst into tears.
‘I’m being used, Mrs Hammond,’ he burst out. ‘I’m definitely being used!’
His almost girlish petulance made her want to reply that she was not surprised, but she was wondering whether in his paradoxical visit there could be some further lead, some thread of information, that might help George. She could be very patient to that end.
‘Tell me about it,’ she said in as dulcet tones as she could feign.
‘All the employees’ records have been stolen.’
The prissiness of his way of speaking did not distract Blanche from appreciating the implications of this event.
‘I have no accurate way of checking who actually works for me anymore, and so many of them look alike to me.’ He moved in small, negative jerks as he spoke. ‘Odd men have arrived from time to time and I’m told tales about them having been on leave. Other families have left in the night — just gone.’
‘Who tells you these tales and which families have gone?’ The prissiness almost became a pout as he admitted, ‘The girl, Li Min. Then they have parties, drunken parties.’
Blanche was steely-eyed with attention now. ‘Li Min! And the families that have gone?’
‘I’ve been checking and it’s all the relatives of Mr Harfield’s former headman, Rasa — his sons and their families. All good workers at first.’
‘Rasa’s family,’ she said slowly. ‘George had great faith in them all. They would know who worked at the mine.’
Blanche waited; there was more than this, she was sure from his manner. He had some other humiliation locked up and battling to come out.
‘George came to believe he had harboured some fanatical communists, the girl one of them — but proving it?’ It was her turn to move a little uneasily as she went on, ‘I have no proof of what I am about to say, but I never liked the cook at Bukit Kinta, Li Kim.’ She paused to give an ironic laugh. ‘It may be, of course, only because his name is so like the girl’s, Li Min.’
‘He above anyone would know my movements for the day,’ Ira pondered. ‘That could explain a lot. He also seems to know when to take messages — I mean, he seemed to know when I didn’t wish to be disturbed.’
There was a curious change of tense there. So he didn’t mind being disturbed now. What had he given up?
‘I think, Mr Cook, if you want my help you had better tell me everything.’
He seemed to screw his hat and himself into a tense round ball, bending so low his forehead nearly touched his knees. ‘When didn’t you want to be disturbed?’
His shoulders gave a convulsive shudder.
‘Ira!’ she demanded. ‘When didn’t you want to be disturbed?’
He mumbled something.
‘When?’ she demanded.
‘When I was with Li Min.’
Ah! Now we have it, she thought. So your gallantry and politeness have dug you in deep. What a baby you are!
‘And I caught a full house!’
There was a moment’s silence while Blanche recalled what the phrase meant: he had both syphilis and gonorrhoea.
She thought her first impression of him had been right — a very dishevelled cockerel indeed! She could have extracted some humour from this ... if she had had anyone to share it with.
‘You’ve been to — ’ She was going to say ‘the hospital’, but he interrupted.
‘Rose Cottage — yes.’
‘Yes,’ she repeated, thinking he seemed to know all the right slang expressions but hadn’t the sense to avoid the diseases.
‘So you want me to ask George to make a list of all his former employees?’
‘I do. I’m going to do my darnedest to root these commies out.’ He looked up at her now. He had told all, kept the tears at bay, and there was a resolution in his tormented face which made her understand perhaps why he had been appointed manager at Bukit Kinta.
‘Right.’ She sat down opposite him, businesslike, on his level, offering partnership. ‘But we have to be careful. We mustn’t do anything to make them suspicious. Above all, we want them to stay at Bukit Kinta, make them feel secure until we’ve organised a pounce.’
‘OK,’ he agreed. ‘Shall I ring ... ?’
‘No, I will. As soon as I have the list I’ll ring you just casually and you ask me over for a meal. The day I’m coming, you immediately send Li Kim to the market with as long a list as you can think of. I’ll come over while Li Kim’s out of the way to tell you what has been arranged, and I’ll bring George’s list.’
‘OK, then we take it from there,’ he said, standing up, taller and shoulders squarer than when he had entered. ‘I don’t suppose you feel like shaking my hand?’
‘My dear boy,’ Blanche exclaimed, shooting out her hand, ‘to err is human, to tackle it takes courage.’
‘I’d value your friendship,’ he said.
‘You have it,’ she confirmed.
George was solemn when she told him. Any glimmer of humour in the situation would, she supposed, hardly be seen by a man who was imprisoned at the hands of the same girl. He was silent, brooding. She thought of Joan with a sense of loss, yearning for someone with whom she could share the joke.
‘You don’t suppose not having either syphilis or gonorrhoea would be considered grounds for an appeal?’ he said after some time.
She laughed gratefully wanting to throw her arms around his neck. ‘My dear, dear man!’
‘She must have just about eaten that boy alive. He came straight from the New York office, you know. Poor little sod! He’s been to — ’
‘Rose Cottage,’ she interrupted.
A twinkle showed in his eye as he asked, ‘And what do you know about such expressions?’
‘Neville often talked to me as if I was one of the boys when he was on leave from the navy. I knew all about “band in the box”, “cold in the dong”, “horse and trap”.’
‘Do you mind, woman! I’m beginning to feel either embarrassed or educated, not sure which.’