The cat washed his whiskers, looking insufferably smug.
'You want to watch it,' said Joe. 'No one loves a smartass. So let's go!'
Fifteen minutes later he was standing on the doorstep of the Oldmaid Row chambers.
The woman who answered his ring was on the tasty side of dumpy with a round rosy face, intelligent grey eyes and a nice smile which replaced her initial suspicious glare once he'd announced who he was.
'Come in,' she said. 'Mr. Pollinger said you would be calling.'
He crossed the threshold where Sandra lies had pinned him down and followed her to the stairs.
'Mr. Pollinger here himself?' he asked.
'Not yet,' she said. 'Though he promised he would be.'
Her tone was briskly neutral but Joe's antennae caught a something.
He said, 'Must've got held up. Sure he wouldn't have wanted you to be here by yourself after what happened.'
She shot him a glance over her shoulder as if to check his motives, saw nothing but real sympathy and smiled again.
'Mr. Pollinger is often too busy to be considerate,' she said. 'But thanks for the thought. You look as if you've been in the wars, Mr. Sixsmith. Car accident, was it?'
'No, just a bit of bother in the line of business. You worked here long, Miss ... Mrs.... sorry, never know what to call ladies these days. Even get into trouble for calling them ladies sometimes!'
'I have no objection to lady,' she said firmly. 'And Mrs. Mattison will do. I've worked for the firm for nineteen years now. Started as a typist.'
'And now you're in charge,' said Joe admiringly.
'I'd hardly say that.'
They had ascended to the first floor. Joe glanced up the stairs, recalling the only other time he'd been here. As he came down the stairs, was Peter Potter already being killed?
If he hadn't arrived when he did, would Potter perhaps still be alive?
'Mr. Sixsmith, you coming in?'
He realized he was rubbernecking up the stairs like a ghoulish tourist.
'Sorry,' he said, following her into an office where a welcoming smell of coffee came from a percolator bubbling in the corner. 'Just that I was here the night it happened, you knew that?'
'Yes, I read about it,' she said. 'Milk and sugar?'
'Black, three spoons,' he said. 'So are you one of them legal secretaries, or what, Mrs. Mattison?'
'Or what,' she said. They're called legal executives nowadays. And they have their own institute and examinations. I just make sure everything in these chambers runs right, Mr. Sixsmith. I don't concern myself with things I'm not qualified to deal with.'
Touch of acid there?
Joe said, 'Mrs. Naysmith, she was one of these legal things, wasn't she? Was that in this office?'
'Oh yes, that was how Lucy and Felix met Mr. Naysmith, I mean.' Brightly neutral now.
'But she didn't stay on after they got together?'
'Not when it reached the point of marriage,' she said, making point of marriage sound as unlikely as Joe being raised to the peerage. She went on, 'Mr. Pollinger didn't think it ... appropriate. He likes a well-defined chain of command and having a partner married to a member of staff who would be working for other partners blurred matters.'
'This cause any resentment from the happy pair?' asked Joe.
'Certainly not. The wedding was a real office occasion. We were all there ...'
Her eyes filled for a moment. Joe recalled the photograph. He thought he could picture Mrs. Mattison in the group. And she was obviously thinking of the two who were now missing ... wasn't she?
'Anyway,' resumed the woman, 'Lucy wanted to have a family. They started very quickly ... but it all went wrong
'Yes, I know,' said Joe. 'I was talking to her yesterday at the hospital.'
'You saw Felix, did you?' she said eagerly. 'I wanted to go, but was told no visitors.'
The woman who'd tried to get in and made the fuss?
'No. He was sleeping. So I just talked to Lucy. He discharged himself, so I presume he's home.'
Joe sipped his coffee. It was very tasty. He hadn't expected anything else.
He said, 'Were all the partners working here when you came?'
She laughed out loud and said, 'You did say you were a detective, Mr. Sixsmith? Mr. Pollinger aside, the average age of our partners is ... was early thirties. I'm thirty-five. I was sixteen when I came here. Lawyers start work a little later.'
'Sorry, wasn't thinking. So who was the last to arrive?'
