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'Because Breckinridge should have been able to see the wheel of light from up
there, in that case. And yet he's never reported doing so. I wonder why?'
'Perhaps he never works late. Doctor,' suggested Doyle.
'He's a self-made man,' the Doctor snapped. 'You never get to be one unless
you're prepared to work long hours. I think Sarahs right, and that he's mixed up
in this affair somehow.'
Doyle frowned. 'Perhaps he is. Hadn't we better move on and see if we can get in
to talk to him?'
'In a moment,' the Doctor answered. 'I was rather hoping that the boy hiding
behind that tree over there would come out and talk to us before we left.'
'What?' Doyle stared at the trees, but could see nothing to indicate they were
other than alone. 'Are you sure there's somebody there?'
'I'm sure.' The Doctor gave a large grin. 'Billy, isn't it?'
There was a stir of movement, then a thin, ragged boy stepped out from the
trees. His face held a look a little way between annoyance and awe. 'How did ye
know I was there?'
'It's my business to know things. Billy,' the Doctor replied evasively. 'How do
you do. I'm the Doctor. I believe we have a mutual friend in Sarah Jane Smith.'
Doyle shook his head in amazement. 'Astounding, my dear Doctor.'
This was an opinion Billy evidently shared. He gave the Doctor a look of
respect. 'Not many can spot me, mister. You be pretty clever.'
'Thank you, Billy. Now, did you just come here to tell me how brilliant I am, or
do you have some news for me?'
The boy scowled slightly. 'It were for Miss Smith, really. But, seeing she ain't
here, I suppose I could tell you. Early this morning, just after daybreak, there
were a big wagon made a delivery at the factory.'
'That's hardly surprising,' Doyle commented. 'They must get supplies there all
the time.'
The Doctor shook his head. 'Not that early,' he commented. 'The workers wouldn't
have arrived. And it meant that the wagon must have been waiting nearby since
yesterday to make a delivery at that time. It suggests they didn't want to be
seen, doesn't it, Billy?'
'It do,' agreed Billy, smiling. 'And it weren't no supplies such as that factory
needs.' He scuffed the dirt with his foot. 'I can't read, so I don't know what
were in them, but it were barrels of some sort.'
'Excellent work. Billy,' the Doctor said approvingly. 'I doubt it was just floor
polish, eh?' He took a shilling from his pocket and flipped it to the startled
youth. 'Let me know if you hear or see anything further, will you?' Then he
grinned at Doyle. 'This makes a foray into the factory more pressing, don't you
think?'
Billy winked, and vanished into the woods again.
Doyle sighed and shook his head. 'This is all very peculiar,' he announced. 'I
still don't comprehend it all.'
'Nor do I, yet,' admitted the Doctor, springing back up into the saddle. 'But
some of the answers at least must lie within the factory. Come on. And follow my
lead when we get there.' He urged on his steed and Doyle fell in behind him as
they cantered the rest of the way to the factory gates.
As they approached, a rat-faced man jumped to his feet in the guard hut. 'Stay
where you are!' he cried. 'There's no admittance.'
The Doctor glared down at him from his horse. 'Are you out of your mind, man?'
he snapped. 'Didn't your master tell you to expect us?'
Rat-face looked surly and annoyed. 'I wasn't told to expect anybody.'
'Then someone has made a grave error,' the Doctor replied haughtily. 'We are
with Lord Shaftesbury's committee. We have had reports that children are
employed at this site, and are empowered to investigate and report on their
working conditions. I am certain that Mister Breckinridge was notified of our
arrival. Now let us in.'
The guard scowled. 'I wasn't told about no arrivals,' he replied sullenly. 'I
can't let you in.'
'By thunder!' Doyle exclaimed, getting into the spirit of the masquerade. 'This
is intolerable!'
'I'll say it is,' agreed the Doctor. 'Very well, we shall return with the local
magistrate and a court order in fifteen minutes.' He glared at the guard. 'And
the constable with a warrant for your arrest. Impeding an official enquiry is a
serious charge. What's your name?'
Rat-face went pale. 'Here,' he protested weakly, 'there's no need for that.'
'Then announce us to Mister Breckinridge,' snapped the Doctor.
'I can't,' the guard answered. Before either visitor could protest, he added:
'Mister Breckinridge isn't here at the moment.'
'Then who is in charge, man?' demanded the Doctor.
'The factory manager, Mister Kinney,' the guard replied.
'Then we'll see him,' the Doctor said. 'Go and get him.' He leaned forward in
the saddle. 'Now!'
The guard bolted across the open yard. Doyle moved slightly closer.
'Do you think this bluff will work?' he asked quietly.
'All the better for Breckinridge not being around,' the Doctor assured him.
'Flunkies are much easier to hoodwink than bosses. They're terrified of making
mistakes that could get them fired later. Stay in character, and ask pertinent
questions about the welfare of the child workers.'
The guard came rushing back, with a harried-looking man in tow. The newcomer
appeared flustered and embarrassed. 'I'm Jack Kinney,' he said, panting
slightly. 'I'm afraid Mister Breckinridge said nothing about any inspection.'
'That's not my fault,' the Doctor snapped. 'You'll have to do for now, I
suppose. When will the owner be back?'
'Later today, sir,' Kinney answered, wringing his hands nervously together. 'I'm
not certain precisely when. If you'd care to return then - '
'What?' Doyle thundered. 'And allow you the opportunity to cover up all your
scandalous practices? Do you think we're feeble-minded, man?'
Kinney was practically wetting his trousers with fear. 'I assure you, there's
nothing untoward happening here, and we have nothing to hide.'
'Then let us in,' the Doctor said coldly. 'We are the ones who will determine
the truth of that, not you.' He dismounted and fished in his pocket. 'Here, you
blithering idiot. My credentials. Don't you think to ask to see them?' He handed
over a card and a bundle of papers through the gap in the gate.
Kinney took them as if they were booby-trapped. 'Ah . . .' he muttered, peering
over the wad. 'Doctor John Smith of UNIT? I thought you said - '
'That I work at the moment for Lord Shaftesbury?' the Doctor snapped. 'I'm on
loan as a specialist, man. Can't you see that for yourself? How can you be in
charge of a factory when you can't even read plain English?'
Kinney, flustered, handed back the papers and card. "Well, I expect it's all in
order,' he agreed. To the guard, he said, 'Let them in, Raintree.' The guard,
still scowling, unlocked the gate. The Doctor led his horse inside, followed by
Doyle. The guard then ostentatiously locked the gate behind them. 'Now, what do
you gentlemen need to see first?'
'Where, precisely, are the children employed?' asked Doyle. 'I must make a
thorough inspection of their work area to ensure its compliance with all
relevant legislation, you know.'
'Quite, quite,' agreed Kinney, wiping his hands on his trouser legs. 'Ah, over
here, this way, this way.' He led his two difficult visitors on a whirlwind tour
of the factory.
Doyle, quite relishing his role, really entered into the spirit of it, asking
pointed questions and jotting down the replies in a small notepad. At one point
he borrowed a tape measure, made several arcane determinations and scribbled
down the results disapprovingly. Kinney was getting so agitated that he barely
noticed that the Doctor was examining areas that were not included in the tour.
On the accounting floor, the Doctor suddenly barked, 'Where are the shipping
logs? What chemicals do you use here? Are any of them endangering the health of
the children?' Kinney, white and trembling, pointed to the relevant accounting
tomes. The Doctor scanned them and slammed them shut. 'And what's upstairs from
here?' he growled.
That's Mister Breckinridge's personal offices,' Kinney answered.
'Do any children work up there?' asked Doyle. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]