In the Teeth of Adversity

by Marian Babson

  “I’d forgotten it,” I admitted, glancing at it where it lay on top of a pile of papers he had obviously been working on, partially obscuring them. Or was that the idea? Was there something there he didn’t want me to see? But it looked innocent enough – what I could see of it – largely magazines, what looked like a couple of theatre programmes, and – probably the real meat – a small sheaf of nondescript carbon flimsies. I wondered what he’d do if I were to pick up the bib and fold it neatly, replacing it on the table beside the pile of papers, so that I could read the top ones.

  “Can you prove it?” he demanded, startling me out of any further plans for prying.

  “Prove what?”

  “That he’s innocent?” It was like a gauntlet flung down before me. I wondered whether he was challenging me to work against him. If so, I didn’t want to know.

  “That’s your job,” I said hastily. “I have enough to do in my own. PR keeps me busy enough without taking on amateur sleuthing as well.”

  “Good.” He settled back in his chair. “You just hold on to that attitude.” He seemed mollified, and although I couldn’t say he was exactly friendly, he seemed at least to have shifted into neutral toward me. It was a big improvement.

  “We are working, you know.” He was almost chatty. “You – the public – never realize how much background work goes on. We’re working, always working, digging into the pasts of everyone involved in a case. That’s where you get most of your real information – and your motives.”

  He paused; his mouth twisted oddly, smoothed out, and twisted again. I lost the slight sense of comfort I had had. Was he making faces at me? Was I supposed to gather something from those expressions? If I was, I needed more time to work on it. We’d never been on the same wavelength and this wasn’t helping matters.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” I said, and watched his mouth contort again. It was beginning to hold a hypnotic fascination for me. What did he imagine he was conveying? Was there someone listening at the door, so that he was telling me one thing while warning me to pay no attention to whatever he said? But he hadn’t said anything pertinent.

  “That’s where most cases are solved – in the past,” he emphasized. His cheek bulged briefly and returned to normal. “Inquiries are proceeding – you may be sure of that. Now” – he changed tone so abruptly that I was further unnerved – “was there something else you wanted to tell me?”

  “No, no,” I disclaimed hastily. “I’m sure I couldn’t tell you a thing you don’t already know. You’re doing a great job. Just keep it up and –”

  I was afraid I was overdoing it. His mouth seemed to try to tie itself into a knot. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, he was still staring at me suspiciously.

  “All right.” I decided to be honest and throw myself on his mercy – if any. “It was all a load of old codswallop. I don’t have anything to tell. I just wanted to get out of that chair before Zayle started drilling.”

  “Why? What’s the matter?” His voice rose on a note of panic. “Isn’t he a good dentist?”

  “One of the best,” I assured him quickly. His reaction had suddenly given me the key to the situation. All those faces and mouths twistings were the result of a man probing a tender tooth with his tongue. No wonder he’d wanted to speak to the dentist, he’d probably been trying to arrange an appointment.

  “Endicott Zayle,” I said firmly, “is one of the top dentists in London. And he takes a few patients on the National Health. I’m one, and Gerry is another. We have every confidence in him.”

  “Ummm,” the inspector said dubiously. Our recommendation didn’t carry much weight with him.

  “How long has it been bothering you?” I asked. This was better, bringing an immediate response. Talking about dental troubles with people who have them is nearly as satisfying as discussing the finer points of surgery with a postoperative case.

  “Two or three days. It started with just a niggling ache and I thought it would go away.” I’d never heard him so forthcoming before. “Then it got worse and worse and aspirin doesn’t help anymore. I think the stopping’s going to fall out. It’s loose. It wobbles when I touch it.” He demonstrated with his tongue and winced again.

  “Yes, yes,” I said quickly before he opened his mouth and invited me to look inside. That was usually the next step and I’d sooner leave it to Zayle – that was the sort of thing he got paid for doing.

  “Come with me.” I stood up. “We’ll go and see Endicott Zayle right now.” Then I remembered the condition Zayle was in. “Er – perhaps we ought to speak to the receptionist first.”

  But he was halfway to the door. That tooth must really be bothering him. I’d never seen anyone so eager to leap into a dentist’s chair.

  Then he faltered and I thought a normal reaction was setting in at last. “Wait a minute,” he said. “I can’t have it attended to now. I have to get over to the House.”

  For a moment I wondered whether some sudden emergency had arisen at home requiring his presence, then I realized what he meant.

  “Make her give you tea on the terrace,” I said. “It’s a nice afternoon for it.” We were in the downstairs hallway now and he was looking around indecisively, as though he might still prefer the dentist to the call of duty. He wouldn’t if he got a good look at the dentist right now – a thing I had to prevent. I ought also to check on how many patients were in the waiting room and have a quiet word with the receptionist before hunting out a source of black coffee and making sure Zayle drank enough of it to do him some good. It’s one of the more depressing aspects of public relations – the amount of time we have to spend simply trying to protect the client from himself.

  “If you’ll pardon me ...” We were blocking the top of the stairs and Morgana Fane was trying to edge past us. Behind her, Penny was signalling to me with a worried look on her face. Gerry, looking even more worried, brought up the rear – I could see that Penny had explained the situation to him with more clarity than she had explained it to me.

  “Oops, sorry.” I managed to block Morgana’s way still further, while shaking my head to Penny and Gerry. “Sorry again.” We went into one of those sidestepping encounters in which I kept blocking her way every time she tried to pass. They usually happen only by accident and it took some pretty tricky footwork on my part to keep blocking her; she was a lot more nimble-footed than I was.

  “Get Adele!” I mouthed to Penny over Morgana’s head. Penny nodded and slipped past us as we waltzed over to the left.

  “Now see here.” Morgana stopped abruptly and faced me, eyes glittering as dangerously as her medallion. “I have only half an hour before my next session. I must see my dentist now – without wasting any time. He promised to fit me in.”

  It would take more than half an hour to sober him up. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that what I was doing was for her own good, as well as our client’s.

  “Terribly sorry,” I said. “In fact, he intended to fit you in, but he miscalculated. Rather, there was a sudden emergency and he couldn’t reach you in time to put you off. He’s closeted with the emergency right now.”

  Behind me, I was aware that Inspector Rennolds stirred restlessly, as though he might be going to say something contradictory. I stepped backward sharply and felt my heel come down on his toe.

  “Sorry,” I apologized over my shoulder. Ignoring his snort of outrage, I shifted position to block Morgana as she tried advancing again.

  It was an impasse and we had another brief waltz, during which her temper didn’t improve. I was feeling a bit fraught myself.

  “There you are,” a voice thundered behind me. Those of us not facing that way swiveled about to see General Sir Malcolm bearing down on us.

  “Yes, sir.” Determined to keep in good with at least one figure of authority, I saluted. But he paid no attention to me.

  “I have something for you,” he continued. Gerry flinched and sidled away, but he wasn’t the target
this time.

  “Here!” From behind his back, General Sir Malcolm brought out a long white plume and presented it to Inspector Rennolds. “Think it over well,” he said sternly. “It’s not too late.”

  “Er, thank you.” Rennolds took the feather with a slightly dazed expression.

  “Now ...” Business out of the way, General Sir Malcolm transferred his attention to Morgana. “Who is going to introduce me to this delightful little lady?” he said, beaming.

  I was surprised to see Morgana turn pale. Perhaps she hadn’t realized the slipperiness of the General’s faulty grasp on reality. More likely, she wasn’t accustomed to anyone’s forgetting they’d met her before – no matter what condition they were in.

  “Grandmother’s fan!” Adele’s anguished wail focused our attention on her as she descended the stairs. “General – you promised!”

  “Well,” Gerry muttered, “at least we know one thing she had packed in that suitcase.”

  “Father?” The surgery door opened. “Is that you?” Endicott Zayle peered out nervously. “Father, I want to speak to you.”

  “Bah!” General Sir Malcolm whirled on his heel in an abrupt about-face, nearly colliding with Adele, who had come up behind him.

  “General –” She turned and followed him.

  “Father – wait –” Endicott Zayle came out of the surgery, not too obviously unsteady, I was relieved to note, and went after the others.

  Penny flattened herself against the wall as they all swept up the staircase past her. Just one big happy family. Looking a bit shaken, Penny then continued down the stairs to join us in the hallway.

  “It’s all right,” I said. “Adele can take care of it now.”

  There was a sigh of defeat from Morgana – she wasn’t going to be able to squeeze any treatment into this spare half hour. Although –

  “I must go.” She looked at her watch. “I have a photo session in Bond Street. Perhaps I can get a cab –”

  “Let me drop you.” Rennolds came back to life. “It’s on my way.”

  I wouldn’t have said that, but it wasn’t all that much of a detour, either. And he had a police car at his disposal.

  “How kind of you.” Morgana gave him an automatic smile.

  “Not at all.” His eyes followed her trim trouser-suited figure down the stairs, then turned back to us. He seemed to notice the white feather still in his hand and was momentarily bemused again.

  “That’s right.” Gerry slapped him on the back. “‘We Don’t Want to Lose You, but We Think You Ought to Go.’ ”

  “I’ll give that back to Adele.” I took the feather from his hand. “She’ll be getting the fan restored again. And” – I forestalled his nervous comment – “I’ll make an appointment for you with Endicott.”

  “After work, if possible,” he said. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

  “About seven,” I said. “And it won’t be any trouble at all.” Frankly, I hoped it would ruin Zayle’s evening. I felt he had it coming – look at the way he’d disrupted Perkins & Tate.

  “Fine.” He looked as though he might be going to say more, but Morgana Fane was waiting impatiently at the foot of the stairs. “Fine,” he said again, and exited.

  “Everything seems to be under control here,” Gerry said. “Do you think we might spare a few minutes for the office now?”

  “We’d better, if we plan to keep the business running.” I handed the white plume to Penny. “Give this to one of the Zayles – not the General, for God’s sake – when you see them and –”

  “Shan’t I come with you?” she asked. “Work must be piling up dreadfully back there.”

  “Thanks.” I resisted the impulse to take advantage of her good nature; she’d been working hard here. “You hold down the fort here until Zayle’s nurse recovers. We’ll try to manage as best we can without you.”

  “Come on,” Gerry said, “before something else happens.”

  Chapter 13

  We returned to pandemonium. The telephone was ringing insistently and the cat was howling with fury. I caught up one with each hand, but Pandora twisted free and I had to let her drop back on the desktop. I ought to have dropped the telephone.

  It was one of our paying clients – he didn’t pay much, but he paid – inquiring truculently why we hadn’t mounted a major publicity campaign to inform the world that he could currently be seen in a new film. (In which he appeared for all of five minutes – two of them consecutive – and uttered six lines.) He had, he added, been trying to reach us for several days, but no one ever answered the phone – perhaps we were in the process of retiring?

  The client was more easily placated than the cat. Perjury cut no ice with Pandora. She stamped up and down the desk, letting us have it in no uncertain terms.

  “It sounds like an ultimatum,” Gerry said.

  “Her meals have been fairly irregular for the past couple of days.” I could see her side of it; it was a pity we couldn’t explain ours to her. Not that she was in any mood to listen. She leaped to the floor and vented a bit more spleen by sharpening her claws on one leg of the desk, muttering to herself.

  “We ought to get her a scratching post when finances run to it,” Gerry said, looking at the splintered leg. “At this rate, it won’t take long to saw through that leg completely.”

  “There are three more,” I said callously, heading for the emergency rations. We kept a store of cat food, but there were also tins of kippers and sardines tucked away for peacemaking or rewards. Although Pandora ate cat food happily enough, she really preferred people food.

  Pandora abandoned the desk and came after me, scolding. I needn’t think I was going to get round her that way.

  Her milk saucer was empty, too. I hurriedly splashed some milk into it to decoy her while I got the tin open. Otherwise, she had a nasty habit of trying to get between the tin opener and the tin, presumably on some theory that she was helping me to open it faster. It was a good way to lose a set of whiskers.

  Kippers turfed into the again-empty milk saucer, I put on the kettle for coffee. We’d had the forethought to stop and pick up pork pies along the way, so dinner wouldn’t take long. More important, we could eat it while we worked.

  I had poured the coffee and was sitting down to the typewriter when I noticed Pandora looking at me reflectively. She had finished her kippers and had washed her face. Now what she wanted was a lap to settle down in for a nap.

  “Friends?” I suggested.

  It wasn’t going to be quite that easy. She gave me an outraged glare and started toward Gerry. Then she wavered, obviously remembering that he was no better than I was. We had both gone away and left her. She stood there, hesitating.

  “Friends?” I tried again.

  She considered it carefully, her concentration broken by a wide yawn.

  “Come on.” I patted my lap invitingly. “Be friends.”

  “Prryeh!” Abruptly she abandoned the vendetta and dived for my lap.

  “That’s better.” She settled down, I went back to writing press releases, and Gerry manned the telephone.

  After a couple of hours, we switched over. Gerry worked on press releases and I took the telephone, contacting neglected clients and trying to make them feel less neglected, while not actually tying us down to doing anything like seeing them.

  Then Gerry put the kettle on again and we stopped for a breather and a cup of coffee. Pandora accepted a saucer of milk, chirruping under her breath that this was more like it. A nice quiet evening at home, with two laps available and refreshment at frequent intervals. We were all feeling pleasantly relaxed and virtuous about getting some work done at last. We should have known it couldn’t last.

  The telephone rang.

  Being nearest, I answered it – an unfortunate habit I’ve never been able to break.

  “Hello?” The voice was low, cautious, guarded – but I recognized it immediately.

  “Penny! What’s the matter?”


  She did not question my assuming something was the matter – which was the most telling sign of all.

  “I – I don’t know. It’s just – I don’t know. Perhaps it’s because I’m alone here and –”

  “Alone? Where are the others?”

  “Upstairs in the flat. And I – I just suddenly wanted to talk to someone. I’m all right, really. It’s silly, I know.”

  It wasn’t silly. Not in that house.

  “Penny, listen. If anything’s upset you – anything at all – you walk straight out of that house and come here. Take a taxi – we’ll pay at this end.”

  “No, really, nothing’s happened. I’m feeling better already and Mr. Zayle needs me here. He still has more appointments. We’re working late tonight.”

  And it was my fault. Hoping to inconvenience Zayle, I’d unwittingly put Penny on the spot. That made me feel great.

  “Penny,” I tried again, “Penny, forget all that. Put down the phone and walk straight out and get into a cab. Don’t even wait to collect your coat. Come back here –”

  “I’m sorry, sir.” Penny’s voice became cool and professional. “I must go now. A patient has just come in.”

  “Penny –” But she had rung off.

  I put down the phone. “I don’t like it.”

  “Neither do I.” Gerry was reaching for his coat. “Let’s get over there.”

  “Nrryoh!” The only dissenting vote was Pandora’s. Sensing desertion again, she streaked across the room, leaped to the desktop and from there to my shoulder, where she crouched, digging in her claws.

  “Pandora, get down!” I slanted my shoulders, trying to tilt her back onto the desk. She gripped harder with her claws and cursed me soundly.

  “Let her come,” Gerry said. “We don’t have time to fool around.” He, too, felt a sense of urgency.

  “You won’t like it,” I warned her. She hitched herself closer around my neck – I wasn’t going to get rid of her that way.