real hardship is surely being caused too? I donât 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
âThatâs just the damnable part,â Wilson almost shouted. âHalf of them wonât ever get a job again. Theyâre too old. Ogilvie himself may, because heâs exceptionally good; but I doubt if even he will. I tell you itâs enough to make a cat cry.â
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.
âMind you,â Wilson was going on, âI donât say that not a single one of the chaps didnât deserve to go. There are one or two who wonât be missed at all. But the other dozen . . .â
âItâs really as many as that?â 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 Wilsonâs inarticulate sympathy.
âQuite as many. More. And thereâll be a dozen more before the little devilâs through. Armstrong doesnât care. Fischmann put him there, and he licks Fischmannâs boots clean every morning when he comes to the office. Thatâs a fine thing for a firm like this. Good God, we might be the Daily Wire.â
Mr Todhunter shot his head forward and fixed his glasses on the young manâs face.
âAnd what would happen if Fischmann were dismissed himself?â
Wilson laughed harshly. âHe wonât be. Thereâs no one to do it but himself, and I donât quite see that happening.â
âWell, weâll say if he had a serious illness and had to resign. Would Lord Felixbourne appoint someone elseâpossibly even someone worse?â asked Mr Todhunter, thinking of Hitler and movements that have to play themselves out.
âThere couldnât be anyone worse,â replied Wilson. âNo, but seriously, I think Felixbourne wouldnât be sorry. At any rate Iâm pretty sure he wouldnât appoint anyone else to the same job. Weâd be left to ourselves again. And without Fischmann, Armstrong wouldnât last long. Then with a decent man like Ferrers running the London Review we could make something of the old rag once more.â
âFerrers?â
âOh yes. Heâll 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 heâll probably be managing editor soonâboss of the whole concern. Thatâs why Ferrers hasnât been sacked like the others, because you can be pretty sure he doesnât kowtow to that little swine. And that,â added young Mr Wilson candidly âis the only reason Iâm 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
âAnd if Ferrers were made managing editor,â said Mr Todhunter carefully, âwould he do anything about the men who have been unjustly dismissed?â
âOf course he would,â cried the young man indignantly. âFerrers is a damâ decent chap. The very first thing heâd do as editor would be to bring âem all back again. And whatâs more, Felixbourne would let him too.â
âI see,â Mr Todhunter nodded thoughtfully. âErâthese notices of dismissal, are they sent out at any time or on a special day?â
âSaturday mornings. Why?â
âOh, nothing,â 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.
Tamara Clay
Kathryn Brocato
Robert Gott
Emily Ann Ward
Olive Ann Burns
Claire Adams
Sylvia Plath
Shelby Foote
Bracken MacLeod
Maisey Yates