Under the Net (18 page)

I missed that sentence. The next one was from Sammy, who said, ‘As a script it certainly has everything.'

‘Good for Madge!' Sadie said. ‘She can pick a winner.'

‘Too bad she didn't back him too!' said Sammy. More laughter.

‘You're sure he couldn't make a case?' Sammy asked.

‘Not a clear one,' said Sadie, ‘and that's all that matters. He probably has nothing in writing, and if he ever had he'll have lost it.'

‘He can refuse us permission to use it, though,' said Sammy.

‘But, don't you see,' said Sadie, ‘that doesn't matter. All we need the thing for is to get H.K. to sign on the dotted line.'

All this was of absorbing interest, though I still couldn't for the life of me see what it meant.

At this point there occurred another distraction. The two women opposite had opened their window wide and were looking at me with considerable suspicion. It is hard consistently to avoid the gaze of someone fifteen feet away who is trying to catch your eye, especially when there is nothing else in the vicinity which you can plausibly be thought to be looking at. I smiled politely.

They consulted each other. Then the one in the hat called out, ‘Are you all right?'

This was very unnerving. It required an iron discipline to prevent myself from getting up and running. I prayed that Sammy and Sadie hadn't heard. Meanwhile I nodded my head vigorously and directed a happy smile in the direction of the two ladies.

‘Are you sure?' she asked again.

Almost in despair I nodded, and added to my smile such gestures indicative of total well-being as it is possible to perform in a sitting position with one's back against a door. I shook hands with myself, held up my thumb and index finger in the form of an O, and smiled even more emphatically.

‘If you ask me, I think he's an escaped loonie,' said the second woman. They retired a little from the window.

‘I'm going to tell my husband,' I heard one of them saying.

Sadie and Sammy were still talking. By now my ears were nearly leaving my head and gluing themselves on to the door behind me.

‘What are you so nervous about?' Sadie was saying. There was no doubt who was using whom in this connivance of unsavoury characters. ‘Present him with the star and the script and your contracts, and we have a flying start. Belfounder hasn't anything on us legally; and if he starts making complaints I can make plenty of counter-complaints about the way I was treated. As for young Donaghue, we can buy him any day of the week.' This annoyed me so much I nearly got up and banged on the door.

But at once Sammy replied, ‘I don't know. These fellows have funny scruples.'

Good for Sammy! I thought; and I was seized forthwith by a convulsive desire to laugh, and had to prevent myself by covering my mouth violently.

The woman with the pinafore reappeared at her window, and at the same time the woman with the hat, who evidently lived in the flat above, appeared at a higher window accompanied by a man.

‘There he is!' she said, pointing to me. Then they came out on to the fire escape.

‘Perhaps he's deaf and dumb,' said the woman with the pinafore.

‘Can't you say anything?' called the man on the fire escape.

This was becoming embarrassing. I glared at him, and pointing into my mouth shook my head vigorously. I wasn't sure whether nodding wouldn't have conveyed my meaning more clearly, but the possibilities of misunderstanding were in any case so enormous that it didn't seem to matter much one way or the other.

‘He's hungry,' said the woman in the pinafore.

‘Why don't you do something?' said the woman in the hat to her husband in that maddening way women have. I felt quite sorry for the fellow.

He scratched his head. ‘Why can't we just leave him alone?' he said. ‘He's not doing any harm.'

This was such a sensible remark that I couldn't but wave to him my congratulations and fellow-feelings. The effect must have been gruesome. He recoiled.

‘You can't leave him there,' said the woman with the pinafore. She had come out on to the fire escape too. ‘He's looking straight into our rooms. Suppose the children were to see him?'

‘I tell you, he's got away from somewhere!' said the woman above.

A female who was obviously a char then appeared at the kitchen door of the flat below, and had to have the whole matter explained to her. All this while I was in a cold sweat in case the hullabaloo might attract the attention of Sadie and Sammy; but they were either so drunk or else so absorbed in their plot that so far they had noticed nothing.

‘I'd like to look it over again before I see H. K.,' Sadie was saying, ‘Where is it, incidentally?'

‘It's at my flat,' said Sammy.

‘Could we phone and have it brought over at once?' Sadie asked.

‘There's no one there,' said Sammy, ‘that is unless our new star has come. But that's unlikely.' He laughed.

‘You know, I think that was a terribly bad idea of yours,' said Sadie. ‘That stuff's just out of date.'

‘You're jealous!' said Sammy. ‘Look, I'll call there this evening and bring it round then; will that do?'

‘That'll do,' said Sadie.

‘Late!' said Sammy.

‘
That'll
do!' said Sadie.

There was laughing and scuffling. I wished them joy of each other. But most of all I wished that I could understand what in heaven's name they were up to.

‘I'll leave squaring Donaghue to you,' said Sammy.

‘We aren't on very good terms,' said Sadie. ‘Did I tell you I tried to employ him as a caretaker, but he cleared off?'

‘With Belfounder on the rampage you'll need an armed guard,' said Sammy. ‘But why employ an ass like Donaghue? You really have no common sense at all.'

‘I rather like him,' said Sadie simply. This bit touched me deeply.

‘Well, you look after him then,' said Sammy.

‘Oh, stop worrying, will you?' said Sadie. ‘One translation's just like another. If he won't let us use his we can buy another translation overnight. All we need is to let H.K. see it now in English. As for the Frenchman, he'd sell us his grandmother for dollars.'

This set me reeling, and I was just getting to the answer when Sammy gave it to me. ‘It makes a nice title, doesn't it?' he said.
‘The Wooden Nightingale.'

I sat there with my mouth open. But I was given no time to reflect. The scene opposite claimed my attention once more; things over there were beginning to move fast.

‘Better call the police, if you ask me,' said the char. ‘Better to let the police deal with them kind, I always think.'

The house opposite stood on one side of a wide cobbled lane which gave on to Queen Anne Street. At the comer of this lane I now saw that a small crowd was collecting, attracted by the drama on the fire escape.

‘Look at 'im looking down!‘ said the char. “E knows what's going on!'

‘You go and dial nine nine nine,' said the woman in the hat to her husband.

Then the char, who hadretired for a moment, reappeared armed with an extremely long cobweb brush. ‘Shall I poke 'im with my brush and see what‘e does?' she asked; and she forthwith mounted the fire escape and brought the brush into play, delivering me a sharp jab on the ankle.

This was too much. In any case, I had heard enough. I now had all tne materials needed for the solution of the problem, and I was in mortal terror that at any moment Sadie and Sammy would come out.

With leisurely grace, under the fascinated gaze of many eyes. I uncurled my legs, and crawled on my stomach down the first two or three steps. After that I stood up, and rubbed my limbs, which had become very stiff, and walked without haste down the fire escape.

‘I told you he was mad!' said the woman in the pinafore.

‘He's getting away! Do something!' said the woman in the hat.

‘Oh, let him go, poor devil!' said the husband.

‘Quick!' said the char. And they all hurried down the other fire escape to join the little crowd at the bottom.

When I reached the foot of the steps I took a quick look back to see if anyone had emerged from Sadie's flat. There was no one. My tormentors were standing all together in the laneway. We looked at each other in silence.

‘Creep up on him slow like,' said the char.

‘Look out, he may be dangerous,' said someone else.

They stood hesitating. I took a look behind me, the alley which led into Welbeck Street was clear. Uttering a piercing hiss I suddenly rushed forward towards them; and they scattered in terror, some retreating up the fire escape and some back down the lane. Then I doubled back into Welbeck Street and took to my heels.

I MADE for the nearest quiet place I knew of, which happened to be the Wallace Collection, to sit down and put together the fragments of my answer. Sitting facing the cynical grin of Frans Hals's Cavalier, I laboured at it. My mind was still not working very fast. My translation of Breteuil's
Rossignol de Bois
, which I had left with Madge, had been purloined by Sammy. No, it hadn't, it had been presented to Sammy by Madge. Why? To be made a film out of. Who by? Some fellow called H. K. who knows no French. An American probably. What's in this for Sadie? Sammy sells this idea to this Yank, and sells him Sadie at the same time. What about Bounty Belfounder? Sadie walks out on them. Can they do anything about that? Apparently not, they haven't got Sadie tied up properly. What about me? If I won't play it doesn't matter tuppence once this H. K. has been sold the idea. Would Jean Pierre defend me? Of course not. He'll deal directly with where the dollars are. Anyhow, have I any rights? None. Then what am I complaining about? My typescript has been stolen. Stolen? Madge shows it to Sammy, who shows it to H. K. Stolen? What's Madge up to anyway? Madge is being double-crossed by Sammy, who ditches her for Sadie. Sammy uses Madge and Sadie uses Sammy to get her revenge on Hugo and make a fortune in dollars at the same time. I began to see the whole picture. What was so maddening was that
The Wooden Nightingale
would in fact make a marvellous film. It really had everything. Madge, in days when she imagined that it might somehow be possible to persuade me to make money, had gone on about it continually. Poor Madge! She had picked the winner, but Sadie and Sammy would hit the jackpot.

‘Not if I can help it!' I exclaimed, and made for the exit.

‘An entertaining story,' said the Cavalier. ‘I applaud your decision.'

What was my decision? There were no two ways about it. I must try to get back my typescript at once. To do this would be to defend my own interests, and to defend Hugo's, and, what mattered most, to do down Sadie and Sammy. That would be striking a blow for Madge too. Where was the typescript? At Sammy's flat. Where was Sammy's flat? The universal provider of information to which I had applied before told me that Sammy lived in Chelsea. It was clear that I should have to work fast. I must get hold of the typescript before this H. K. could see it. The way Sadie had referred to it suggested that it had not yet been copied. Sammy had implied that he would not be visiting his flat until the evening. He had said that it was probably empty. I rang Sammy's number and got no reply. Then I decided that I badly needed Finn.

I rang Dave's number and after some delay Finn answered, sounding rather dazed. I told him that I was glad he hadn't been drowned, and that I wanted him to come and join me as soon as he could. When he knew it was me he cursed me for a long time in Gaelic, and said that he'd been asleep. I congratulated him, and asked how soon he could get along. At last after much grumbling he said he would come to meet me in the King's Road, and there about three-quarters of an hour later we duly met. The time was then about twenty to three.

I had taken the precaution of asking Finn to bring with him an implement which we called the Master Key, which was a lock-picking tool of simple style which we had designed together on scientific principles. You may think it odd that two ordinary law-abiding citizens like myself and Finn should have troubled to provide ourselves with such an article. But we have found by experience that there are a surprising number of occasions in a society such as ours when simply in defence of one's own rights, as in the present case, one needs to get through a locked door to which one possesses no key. And after all, one may even find oneself locked out of one's house, and one can't call the Fire Brigade every time.

We telephoned again to make sure the flat was empty; and then as we walked along the road I told Finn the outline of the story. He found this so interesting that he quite got over his bad temper. It was clear, however, that he still had a dreadful hangover. He had the slightly squinting look which he gets with a hangover, and kept shaking his head as he went along. I have often asked Finn why he shakes his head when he has a hangover, and he tells me that it's to make the spots move away from in front of his eyes. It surprises me when Finn, with all his Irish training, stands up to a drinking bout less well than I do ; though on this occasion it was possible that although, like the Walrus, I had got all I could, Finn had in fact, like the Carpenter, got hold of more. He has an almost psychic capacity for finding drink at all hours. Whatever the reason, he was in bad shape, while I was by now feeling fine, only a little bit weak in the stomach.

I wasn't at all sure how easy it would prove to get into Sammy's flat. Sammy was the sort of person who might easily have installed a special lock, or worse still a burglar alarm. He lived, moreover, in one of those enormous blocks of service flats, where it was possible that we might be interfered with in our work by the porter or some other busybody. When we reached the block I sent Finn round to the other side of the building to see if he could find a tradesmen's entrance, in case we were disturbed, while I walked in the front way, keeping an eye lifting for porters. We met outside Sammy's door, which was on the fourth floor. Finn said there was a decent quiet tradesmen's entrance. I told him I had seen only one porter, who sat in a glass cage near the main door and didn't look as if he was likely to move. Finn whipped out the Master Key, while I kept watch at the end of the corridor. In a minute or two Sammy's door was opening quietly and we both went in.