The commissionaire had no need even to whistle. He merely clicked his thumb and a taxi appeared like magic. Miss Marple was helped into it with every possible care and decided on the spur of the moment to go to Robinson & Cleaver’s and look at their splendid offer of real linen sheets. She sat happily in her taxi feeling indeed as the commissionaire had promised her, just like a queen. Her mind was filled with pleasurable anticipation of linen sheets, linen pillow cases and proper glass- and kitchen-cloths without pictures of bananas, figs or performing dogs and other pictorial distractions to annoy you when you were washing up.
Lady Sedgwick came up to the Reception desk.
‘Mr Humfries in his office?’
‘Yes, Lady Sedgwick.’ Miss Gorringe looked startled.
Lady Sedgwick passed behind the desk, tapped on the door and went in without waiting for any response.
Mr Humfries looked up startled.
‘What—’
‘Who engaged that man Michael Gorman?’
Mr Humfries spluttered a little.
‘Parfitt left—he had a car accident a month ago. We had to replace him quickly. This man seemed all right. References OK—ex-Army—quite good record—not very bright perhaps—but that’s all the better sometimes—you don’t know anything against him, do you?’
‘Enough not to want him here.’
‘If you insist,’ Humfries said slowly, ‘we’ll give him his notice—’
‘No,’ said Lady Sedgwick slowly. ‘No—it’s too late for that—Never mind.’
‘Elvira.’
‘Hallo, Bridget.’
The Hon. Elvira Blake pushed her way through the front door of 180 Onslow Square, which her friend Bridget had rushed down to open for her, having been watching through the window.
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