Part 6 (1/2)
”Those skills being ...?”
”The ability to make educated small-talk, and mastery of a type-writing machine. It is remarkable how few gentlemen are capable of producing type-written doc.u.ments with their own ten fingers. Your husband, as I recall, is one who can.”
”And yet the city's employment rosters are positively crawling with educated women type-writers.”
”I had one of those. A fine and talented young PC. Who is now home with a baby.”
”Oh. Well, now you have me.”
”Yes.” Definitely a sigh, this time. ”Oh, it might as well be you.”
My eyes narrowed. ”Chief Inspector, one might almost think you have no interest in this matter. Is it important enough to concern Holmes and me, or is it not?”
”Yes. I mean to say, I don't know. That is-” He ran a hand over his face. ”I dislike having outside pressures turned on the Yard.”
”Ah. Politics.”
”In a manner of speaking. It has to do with the British moving picture industry.”
”Do we have a moving picture industry?” I asked in surprise.
”Exactly. While the Americans turn out vast sagas that sell tickets by the bushel, this country makes small pictures about bunnies and Scottish hillsides that are shown as the audience is taking its seats for the feature. I'm told it's because of the War-all our boys went to the Front, but the American cameras just kept rolling. And now, when we're just beginning to catch up, we no sooner come up with a possible rival to the likes of Griffith and DeMille when a rumour-a faint rumour, mind-comes to the ears of Certain Individuals that their man may be bent.”
I put the clues together. ”Some members of the House of Lords are worried about the money they put up to back a picture, and mentioned it to the Chancellor of the Exchequer over sherry, and Winston sent someone to talk to you?”
”Worse than that-the Palace itself have invested in the company, if you can believe that. And the trouble is, I can't say for certain that there's nothing to it. The studio has been linked to ... problems.”
”I should imagine that picture studios generate all sorts of problems.”
”Not generally of the criminal variety. There are some odd coincidences that follow this one around. Three years ago, they made a movie about guns, and-”
”An entire moving picture about guns?”
”More or less. This was shortly after the Firearms Act, and the picture was about a returned soldier who used his military revolver in a Bolshevik act, accidentally killing a child.”
”The Bolshevist terror being why the Firearms Act was introduced in the first place.” The 1920 Firearms Act meant that every three years, Holmes and I were forced to go before our local sheriff for weapons permits, demonstrating that we were neither drunks, lunatics, or children.
”That and the sheer number of revolvers knocking around after the War waiting to go off. Which more or less concealed the fact that someone sold quite a few of said firearms in this country, unpermitted, shortly after the picture came out.”
”What does that-”
”Wait. The following year, Fflytte did a story about a young woman whose life was taken over by drugs-c.o.ke Express, it was called. The month following its release in the cinema houses, we had an unusual number of drugs parties along the south coast.”
”Yes, but-”
”And last year, one of their pirate movies was about rum-running into America. It came out in November.”
”I was busy in November. What happened?”
”McCoy's arrest. 'The Real McCoy'? The man's made a small fortune smuggling hard liquor into the United States.”
”Hmm. Is this perhaps the same studio that was making a film about Hannibal?”
”Fflytte Films, that's them.”
”Odd, I don't recall hearing about a sudden influx of elephants racing down the streets of-”
”I knew this was a mistake. Never mind, Miss Russell, I'll-”
”No no, Chief Inspector, sit down, I apologise. Surely there must have been something more concrete to interest you in the case, even in a peripheral manner?”
He paused, then subsided into his chair. ”Yes. Although even that I can't be at all certain about. We were beginning to ask some questions-in a hush-hush fas.h.i.+on, so as not to set the gossip magazines on fire-when the studio's secretary went missing. Lonnie Johns is her name.”
”When was that?”
”Well, there's the thing-it was only four or five days ago. And there's nothing to say that the Johns girl didn't just quit her job and go on holiday. The girl she shares a room with said it wouldn't surprise her, that Lonnie's job would shred the nerves of a saint.”
”But Miss Johns didn't say anything to her, about going away?”
”The room-mate didn't see her go-she'd just got back herself from a week in Bognor Regis.”