They Made Their Mark: Chapter 2

"First of all, Fatty, how did you know I was at the movies last evening? You said you didn't see me at the theatre and no one could have told you so how did you perform that little party-piece?"

"What am I supposed to say?"

"Elementary, my dear Larry."

"Elementary my dear Larry," repeated Fatty.

"Come on, Sherlock."

"I like to spring a surprise now and again."

Fatty pushed down the button of an intercom on his desk. "Dot, we're ready."

Larry heard a muffled voice.

"As soon as I've finished filing."

"What? Your nails?"

"Yes!"

Fatty grinned at Larry; I always get hungry about this time of the morning. O.K. As I was saying, I like to spring a surprise occasionally."

"I know. You've always been like that. I remember in the old days you'd work everything out and then keep it to yourself and there we'd be racking our brains trying to figure out the solutions."

"Yeah, it's a bit like a magic trick. The magician fools you by using available knowledge in such a way that you can't relate it to anything. Sherlock Holmes did the same and he was a little reluctant to reveal his methods sometimes when his audience wasn't as impressed as he thought they'd be. Perhaps I should keep Mum!"

"Fatty!"

"Yeah, I know – can't keep my friend Larry in the dark. Basically it's a matter of observation, deduction and local knowledge. Hallo, here's our girl Friday!" Larry followed his glance towards the door.

"Our Girl Friday, indeed!" A tray followed by Dorothy Crockelby entered the office. The receptionist wore a contrived hurt look,

"The day I'm known as Your Girl Friday will be the day I resign, Mr. T."

"You can't resign, Dot, because I need you and I want you."

Dot put the tray down on a small table by Larry and looked at him,

"He needs me to bring him coffee, and he wants me to bring him nourishment."

"Can I call you Dot, Dot?"

"Of course you can, Mr. Larry, and, incidentally, I'd keep the biscuits on your side because they're his favourites and..."

"Dot," Fatty said, "I'm on my best behaviour with Larry not only because he's my good friend but also because he's a reporter and might let it out that I scoffed all the biscuits."

"Well, all the same, Mr. Larry, you watch him."

"I will, Dot," Larry agreed, "and let me say I'm impressed with the display. I hope you haven't supplied all this just because I'm here – there's enough for half a dozen of us."

"Not when Mr. T's with you."

"Dot makes the best coffee in town, Larry and that's why the pot's so large – you'll want more. I reckon we should open up a little coffee-bar on the side and Dot could man it in the evenings."

Dot raised an eyebrow. "What a wonderful idea, Mr. T, and instead of just slaving all day for you I could slave all night as well."

Fatty laughed. Dot patted his head, smiled at them both, and left the room.

"Is she just a secretary?" asked Larry. "She seems a very approachable woman – when I first spoke to her I sort of felt as if I've known her forever."

"Dot's the original treasure. I've had her almost since I started up shop – she used to work in the office at Arthur's over Wakeman way. Remember it?"

"Yes, I do. It closed down – what happened to him?"

"Retired. He sold up and invested the proceeds and now lives a relaxed and fulfilled life after just over forty years in the hardware business."

"I noticed the large new store in the High Street."

"Yes. It's got everything – plus all Arthur's ex-customers no doubt. I got to know Dot very well during visits when I was setting up the offices – there's a second one over in Cores End. I worked on and off with the builders who were doing the alterations and I ducked back and forth purchasing window stays and catches and this and that. Dot would often put herself out to hunt down bits and pieces for me when the other staff were busy and we got on extremely well – partly due to her sense of humour. When the place closed I approached her because I needed a secretary right at that moment so it looks like fate threw us together. She's cut down her time to just three days and Ruth comes in on Mondays and Tuesdays. Ruth's eighteen and completing a course in criminology at the Tech Institute so, staff-wise, I'm extremely lucky. Tuck in while the coffee's hot, Larry, and now, what were we on about?"

Larry poured a coffee for Fatty, and handed it to him with the plate of cake-slices and then helped himself as well to coffee and a biscuit.

"I was just going to run over what you said, Fatty – regarding your parlour trick. Observation! Well, you've looked at me and there's no ticket sticking out of my pocket and no remnants of choc-ice round my mouth. Deduction? If there's nothing to observe, there's nothing to deduce. Local knowledge? Nope! I'm afraid I haven't the faintest idea about that one."

"I'll tell you more. You weren't at the Royalty – you went to the Odeon at Wycombe and, by the way, you were late for the show."

Larry looked astonished. "How in blazes did you know that? You're absolutely right. You know, Fatty, I'd say you were pretty good at this sort of thing in the old days – for a kid at least, but what you've just demonstrated approaches the domain of the clairvoyant. Out with it!"

"I'll tell you even more – you sat in a group of fifteen seats in the alcove on the right by the wall, didn't you?"

Larry helped himself to another biscuit. "Fatty, if you lived in the fifteenth century you would've been burnt at the stake. Go on – tell me my seat number?"

"I'll have to take a stab at that one – E20."

"E20?"

Fatty laughed. "OK, get him a glass of water, someone – poor chap's fainted! Larry, get up off the floor, no amateur dramatics allowed in this office."

Larry picked himself up from where he'd fallen in an elaborate rendition of a fainting spell. He got back into his chair, took another biscuit, and looked at Fatty keenly.

"If this is the level you've reached I'm starting to feel a little sorry for any criminal that lives in these parts and I'm also worried for myself because I don't know what else you can read just by looking at me. Wasn't there some instance in the Sherlock Holmes stories where he read Watson's mind?"

"Yeah, Larry. He observed the doctor closely and made deductions as to his train of thought by following his gaze. Very clever but I'm not exactly a mind-reader although there are many things you can learn from body language with a little practice and I've found it very useful in my line of work. You'd find it very helpful in yours as well and I'm sure you use what natural abilities you have in that field. I've just tempered mine to a higher degree – out of necessity. You left home without having any breakfast this morning – right?"

"Fatty! Sherlock! How are you doing all this?"

"That last one was a sample of what spiritualists are very adept at – I took a wild guess but it was backed up by just a little clue. You're on your fourth biscuit but it was mainly a shot in the dark just to impress you and now I know why Holmes wasn't too keen on revealing his methods."

"Yeah, it looks so easy once the secret's out."

"Here's the general analysis which is reasonably elementary if we can use that word again. Look at your shoe."

"Look at my shoe? Why?"

"To see what you can see."

"O.K."

"No, the right one."

"Yeah. So what?"

"Look closely."

"I'm looking."

"See anything?"

"Nothing... no, wait a sec. – I think I'm seeing a very slight scuff mark... tinge of red or purple. Very faint though – is that what you mean?"

"That's it!"

"Fatty, how could you see that from where you are? I've got very good eyesight myself and I can only just spot it."

"I was standing quite close to you when you first sat down."

"So, you did a once-over, but you'd still need the eyes of an eagle."

"Maybe. Now, unbeknownst... is unbeknownst a word?"

"What?"

"Is unbeknownst a word? You're the expert."

"Um, yes – you're alright there."

"Unbeknownst to you, the Odeon had a touch-up a few weeks ago and when it was all smart again there were some complaints from people who sat where you were last night. The skirting on the wall was coated with a special paint that wasn't the right formula – it was used accidentally when the painter ran out of the right stuff near the very end of his work. The paint he applied had been developed for displays – it doesn't dry completely for about a month so as to retain its gloss and "newness" for the exhibition period. If theatre-goers who sit in one of those particular seats just happen to brush their right shoe against the skirting-board the mark will be upon them as it is upon you and naturally customers aren't all that happy when paint is discovered on their best footwear. There was an item in your paper about it. The paint either had to be stripped or else left to dry so the manager decided on the latter course and any one with a ticket that landed them in the end five or so seats was warned about the skirting. Incidentally, E20 was a calculated guess – it was the furthest back and I know from experience that the ushers tend to fill the front seats first and as you were late you naturally gravitated. Impressed?"

"Fatty, I'm very impressed. How did you know I was late for the movie?"

"As the paint's been there for a few weeks they aren't warning people anymore but there's a notice just inside the circle door which you wouldn't have seen if it was dark when you entered. The usher should have let you know but maybe they don't bother now seeing the paint's almost dry – that mark on your shoe is very faint. There was also a notice outside but it went missing and hasn't yet been replaced. Satisfied?"

"Satisfied and astonished at your calculations but how did you know I went last night?"

"Because the area you sat in is roped off from Monday to Wednesday as there are fewer customers and because you've been here hardly a week I gather that you would have been busy settling in for the first few days and not really had the time to attend a movie. Little bit of guessing there."

"Fatty, have you become better under your own steam at this kind of thing or have you roped in some help?"

"I've always been interested in detection techniques as you know, Larry, and I've taught myself a lot but, to answer your question, I also attended a few related courses. A couple when I was in the police and later when I started up this agency and one which I would highly recommend deals with thinking outside the entrenched. When you begin working something out, the normal method is to start with vague but connected ideas which are already in your mind and then work from that perspective. The course I took dealt with thinking from a more lateral stance but now I'm starting a lecture so that's enough for the present – what's been happening in Larry Daykin's world? Where's you bin the last few years, what have you been up to? The only thing I know is that you were in the Air Force and were posted to foreign parts."

"Where's I bin? Well, Fatty, I've been in England for about the last six months and prior to that I was in Gibraltar and you'll be interested to know that about eight months ago I was in Canada staying awhile with Daisy after a her marriage plans dissolved."

"What, what, what? Daisy? Marriage plans?"

"Yes. She was over there on holiday and staying with friends in Vancouver. They took her to Calgary where there was an enormous charity art auction being held in a park which was all decorated up and at dusk there were coloured lights and bands performing with all the locals there and if you think about it, there's many an opportunity for romance in a "girl next door, boy down the road" setting like that especially when the lights twinkle on at dusk. Daisy met her fiancée there and it was probably a heat-of-the-moment attraction which they held on to initially but there were complications with his family. He wanted to emigrate here but Mummy didn't want to lose him and Daddy wasn't too happy about it either because Sonny-Boy was being groomed for the family business. I think they looked on Daisy as a threat to their ordered life and things became a little testy but this was also partly due to her seeing a different side of her fiancée's character. The relationship continued despite that and plans were made but a few days before the big one they realised their feelings for each other had simply petered out and they called it off. It was basically a romance that developed too quickly and from what Daisy told me I don't think it could ever have worked."

"What was he into, Larry? Did you meet him?"

"No, I've only seen a couple of photos. Good looking guy but he had a face that reminded me of some character I once knew who was a bit of a sharp cookie. I honestly don't think he'd fit in with Daisy's country-girl upbringing and her artistic motivations. He handles the international sales of a personal care products division attached to one of the big companies."

"How's Daisy?"

"Oh, she's fine and I think she's quite relieved that it's all over. I flew in for a few days to attend the marriage but as that didn't take place I stayed until she returned to Britain with Mum and Dad."

"Oh, so they went over. How did they take it?"

"I think we all decided it was just one of those things. Mum and Dad were philosophical about it – they'd always wanted to visit Canada, especially Vancouver because it really is a beautiful city and, like me, they looked on the break-up as the best thing for both of them."

"Expensive trip for you?"

Larry smiled. "I managed to stow away on a Vampire which was en-route to Canada."

"One of the perks, no doubt."

"You betcha! Managed to get a flight back as well on a Connie all the way to the Akrotiri Peninsular and then on to Gibraltar."

"Good life and you gave it all up although I can see the point you're making, Larry – you either wander around forever or you sink some roots and prepare for the future. So, our Daisy's back in England. I think the last I saw of her would've been in Burnham – that was about a year after our last mystery. Where's she now?"

"She's in Tiny-Town... Watlington. When she arrived back she stayed awhile with Mum and Dad and then she met up with a former school mate who's heavily into pottery and the creative arts. Daisy has become quite artistic herself and before she became involved with Roger, her ex-fiancée, she was into pottery and she attended various classes. This friend invited her over to Watlington where she has a shop and now Daisy's leading an idyllic life making and selling vases, painting beautiful pictures and helping with everything in the catalogue. She's also gaining valuable experience and when she's got the money she says she's coming back to these parts and may open up her own place."

"The call of Peterswood! Good old Daisy. You can give me her address and if I don't get over that way, I'll drop her a line."

"You do that, Fatty – she'd love to hear from you. I visited on my way back from Newlyn and found her in a beautiful wooded area and living in a cottage-shop which must be about a hundred years old – the cottage that is."

"I recall her saying once that when she was grown up she was going to keep a little house and have her own birds and animals. She thought there couldn't be anything nicer than keeping poultry and making your own preserves."

"Yes, Daisy would like that and depending on the size of any future property I'm sure hens and ducks will have a high priority – she'll probably marry a farmer and run a pottery or paint pictures on the side."

"Yeah, that'd be nice, Larry. We could descend on her one day for a Devonshire tea. O.K., fill me in."

"Yes, but first Fatty, congrats again. I'm really glad you're into detection and I should have known anyway because that was all you ever wanted to do. You aren't advertising it all that much though, are you – I didn't see any indication that these offices are those of an investigative agency."

"None at all. In this business, especially in my line, I prefer to be a little nondescript and I don't need to advertise because I have regular clients and any other referrals are word-of-mouth, and thanks for the kind words. I'll fill you in with all the news of what's been happening around Peterswood and where people are and who's doing what – after you've flown me round the world a little. "

"Right. Let's see now... going back into history I had a very brief spell at varsity in Edinburgh then went straight into the R.A.F. I'd always had the urge to fly – right from when I was at school. An air-force recruiting officer visited one day and gave us a lecture about the life of a trainee and what they get up to. It was part of careers study and this, added to my boyhood dream, meant I was hooked. I've spent the last five or six years in various parts of the globe where British influence is supported and weathered. I was initially piloting planes after I got my wings then they switched me to the navigation side and I never looked back. I started in Coningsby, was based in Cyprus on and off for a few years and then it was down to the tropics where I was stationed in Gibraltar. Travelled all over the place on your money – Northern Ireland, Suez, Aden, Kenya, Malaya, Pitcairn. Never got to Bermuda. Manged to get one trip to the Antarctic.

Larry took a breath, then continued. "Loved every minute of it, but about a year or so ago I began thinking and realized I had no "plan." Sure, I was having the time of my life but I hadn't found my niche and that's what I think we all have to do. Having got the job and the life I liked there was a kind of "been there" and "done that" feeling and I felt I wanted to settle down. I couldn't go on living out of suitcases for the rest of my life and this, combined with the urge to return to Peterswood, was the stimulus I needed. I developed goals. I wanted to be able to move around – but in my own territory, I wanted to get my own home, and I also wanted to write! I've plenty to write about but I need money coming in so the compromise lay in journalism. Eventually I'd like to write books... but that's something for the future."

To be continued ...