Trial and Error by Anthony Berkeley

real hardship is surely being caused too? I don’t imagine that all these men are going to find other jobs quite at once. And no doubt some of them have wives and families like Ogilvie.”
    â€œThat’s just the damnable part,” Wilson almost shouted. “Half of them won’t ever get a job again. They’re too old. Ogilvie himself may, because he’s exceptionally good; but I doubt if even he will. I tell you it’s enough to make a cat cry.”
    Mr Todhunter nodded. A sudden thought had struck him so forcibly as to make him catch his breath and remember his aneurism; for in the emotion of the preceding ten minutes he had quite forgotten it.
    â€œMind you,” Wilson was going on, “I don’t say that not a single one of the chaps didn’t deserve to go. There are one or two who won’t be missed at all. But the other dozen . . .”
    â€œIt’s really as many as that?” Mr Todhunter spoke a little absently. He was wondering what young Wilson would say if he were to tell him, straight out, that in another three or four months he would be dead. Mr Todhunter had an absurd longing to make the confidence and soothe himself with Wilson’s inarticulate sympathy.
    â€œQuite as many. More. And there’ll be a dozen more before the little devil’s through. Armstrong doesn’t care. Fischmann put him there, and he licks Fischmann’s boots clean every morning when he comes to the office. That’s a fine thing for a firm like this. Good God, we might be the Daily Wire.”
    Mr Todhunter shot his head forward and fixed his glasses on the young man’s face.
    â€œAnd what would happen if Fischmann were dismissed himself?”
    Wilson laughed harshly. “He won’t be. There’s no one to do it but himself, and I don’t quite see that happening.”
    â€œWell, we’ll say if he had a serious illness and had to resign. Would Lord Felixbourne appoint someone else—possibly even someone worse?” asked Mr Todhunter, thinking of Hitler and movements that have to play themselves out.
    â€œThere couldn’t be anyone worse,” replied Wilson. “No, but seriously, I think Felixbourne wouldn’t be sorry. At any rate I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t appoint anyone else to the same job. We’d be left to ourselves again. And without Fischmann, Armstrong wouldn’t last long. Then with a decent man like Ferrers running the London Review we could make something of the old rag once more.”
    â€œFerrers?”
    â€œOh yes. He’ll be the next editor. Been marked out for it for years, and Felixbourne at least has the sense to recognise one good man when he sees him. In fact he’ll probably be managing editor soon—boss of the whole concern. That’s why Ferrers hasn’t been sacked like the others, because you can be pretty sure he doesn’t kowtow to that little swine. And that,” added young Mr Wilson candidly “is the only reason I’m still here, because I told our Mr Fischmann pretty well what I thought of him the first week he was here; and Ferrers stopped me from getting the sack. God knows how.”
    â€œAnd if Ferrers were made managing editor,” said Mr Todhunter carefully, “would he do anything about the men who have been unjustly dismissed?”
    â€œOf course he would,” cried the young man indignantly. “Ferrers is a dam’ decent chap. The very first thing he’d do as editor would be to bring ’em all back again. And what’s more, Felixbourne would let him too.”
    â€œI see,” Mr Todhunter nodded thoughtfully. “Er—these notices of dismissal, are they sent out at any time or on a special day?”
    â€œSaturday mornings. Why?”
    â€œOh, nothing,” said Mr Todhunter.

CHAPTER III
    Mr Todhunter was not going to murder Fischmann (to call the man by his real name) without careful enquiry first.