They Never Looked Inside by Michael Gilbert

Author:Michael Gilbert
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: They Never Looked Inside
ISBN: 9780755132454
Publisher: House of Stratus
Published: 2013-11-26T05:00:00+00:00

IV

Miss McCann had been at home when the Yard so incautiously telephoned to her brother and had been much intrigued thereby. However, she belonged to a generation which placed self-control at the pinnacle of the virtues and had therefore refrained from asking questions.

Twenty minutes later the phone bell had rung again.

A courteous voice said: “Is that Miss McCann? This is the Secretary of the Ladies’ Bridge World speaking.”

Miss McCann was flattered but not surprised. During the last few weeks she had been conducting an acrimonious correspondence, by letter, card and telephone, with the organisation in question on the subject of the ethics of the Blackwood four-no-trump, five-no-trump convention. The voice, however, was new to her.

“You have shown such an intelligent interest in this matter, Miss McCann, that the Committee has decided to ask if you would care to attend their next meeting—”

Miss McCann certainly would – when was it?

“I’m afraid the notice is very short,” went on the voice sympathetically. “The meeting starts in half an hour’s time; if you are free this afternoon – possibly you could take a taxi – the Committee would, of course, defray all expenses. We are meeting at the Treasurer’s house – 14A Royal Albermarle Street in Gospel Oak – it’s really no great distance from Hampstead.”

Miss McCann would, in fact, have said ‘Yes’ whatever the distance – she was a born committee woman. In the cause of contract bridge, she would even have paid her own taxi fare.

In less than five minutes she was on her way. Royal Albermarle Street, despite its name, could never really have been described as a pretentious thoroughfare, and whatever royalty it might have possessed had long since departed. Deeply engaged though she was in formulating her arguments in favour of more ethical bidding at bridge. Miss McCann hesitated for a moment after dismissing her taxi in front of No. 14A. This was a particularly blind and dingy tenement, adorned, moreover, with a notice announcing that it was To Let.

As she stood hesitating, her doubts were set at rest. A well-dressed, Hebraic gentleman walked past her on the pavement and turned into the front path of No. 14A. She hurried after him and caught up with him as he stood on the doorstep.

“Are you a member of the Committee?”

“That’s right,” said the Jew with a benevolent smile. “Are you Miss McCann?”

“Yes, I am. I was doubtful for a minute whether I’d come to the right place – it seemed such an unexpected sort of house.”

“Ah,” said the Jew, “but our treasurer is rather an unexpected sort of gentleman.” He ushered Miss McCann through the door, which had by this time been quietly opened; following through after her he gave her a most ungentlemanly push in the small of the back which sent her staggering up the hall, and whilst she was striving to recover her balance turned calmly round and bolted the door.

“Take her upstairs, Jock.”

Any lingering doubts which Miss McCann may have entertained, faded when she turned and caught sight of Jock.

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