Page 64 of The Secrets of Lord Grayson Child
Gray wrinkled his nose. “True.” He looked back at the page he held. “Forget I said anything.”
He felt more than saw Izzy’s affectionate smile before she, too, returned to her scanning.
Not long after, Baines and Littlejohn returned, driven, Gray suspected, more by curiosity than anything else. He looked at Izzy. “The police are here.”
She sighed, rose, and went into the foyer.
Gray set down the sheet he’d been checking and followed.
After glancing over the printed proofs Mary spread on the counter for them to view and being assured by Izzy that there had been no changes to the articles since they’d “approved” them, both policemen declared they had no further need to squint at the proofs.
Izzy promptly returned to her desk, and after exchanging glances, Baines and Littlejohn cautiously made their way past the counter and deeper into the workshop, looking around curiously.
From near the office door, Gray watched the pair. Eventually, they retreated to stand against the darkroom wall, from where they could study the hulking press, the steam-driven motor, and the wide belt that had been set into place, connecting the two.
Gray shared the pair’s fascination. Rather than following Izzy into the office, he ambled down the workshop.
On reaching Baines and Littlejohn, Gray nodded at the press. “Quite something, isn’t it?”
Littlejohn confided, “I’m eager to see it in action. Lipson said it can be set to print both sides of the paper in a sort of double pass—they don’t have to take the paper out and turn it. The machine can do that itself.”
“German made, it is,” Baines said. “Very clever with machines, the Germans.”
Gray smiled. “Am I to take it you plan to be here tomorrow?”
His gaze on the shining drum of the press, Baines nodded. “Once we explained what was going on and that Winchelsea was behind it, the higher-ups suggested we’d better make sure that nothing went wrong, so either Littlejohn or I, or possibly both of us, will be here from eight to five.”
“I see.” Gray slotted the information away, but said nothing more at that point.
A few minutes later, Izzy emerged from the office to declare she had found no changes that needed to be made. She checked with Mary, Maguire, Matthews, Horner, Digby, and both Lipsons, all of whom denied having spotted any error or illegible type.
“Right, then.” Izzy turned to Lipson and, smiling with satisfaction, nodded. “We’re set and ready to roll.”
Judging by the staff’s universal delight, that was a moment of shared achievement.
Izzy glanced at the clock. “Goodness! It’s already after five.” She looked at Lipson. “Is there anything more that needs doing?”
Wiping his hands on a rag, Lipson briefly surveyed the press and the boiler and shook his head. “All’s well here. We’re as ready as we can be to start printing first thing tomorrow.”
“Excellent!” Izzy beamed at the staff. “As that’s the case, we can call it a day.”
Baines and Littlejohn lingered while the staff, Izzy, and Gray found their coats and shrugged into them. Everyone was filing into the foyer, making for the door, when Lipson abruptly halted. “I just had a thought.”
Everyone else stopped in their tracks as Izzy demanded, “What?”
Lipson met her gaze and grimaced. “Those merchants had heard whispers about the hue and cry edition. Hardly surprising, given we’d told our regular advertisers. But if the killer hears those same whispers—and by now, after Mary and I spent hours this morning explaining our special edition to so many, those whispers will have spread far and wide—the blighter might come back and try to wreck the press.” Lipson turned to view his baby.
“Or wreck our formes,” Maguire growled, looking toward his typesetting table where the fully blocked formes sat waiting to be fitted into the press.
Izzy, Gray, and the staff turned to look at Baines and Littlejohn.
Baines read the expectant expressions on their faces. “Littlejohn, arrange to have constables from the local watchhouse stand guard outside tonight. One at each door.”
Lipson, who’d been exchanging looks with his son and Matthews, spoke up. “No need for the constables to wait outside in the cold. Tom, Jim, and I’ll kip here tonight. We’ll have the boiler going to keep the place warm—no reason the constables can’t come in and wait with us. That way, if the killer does try anything, the constables will be on the spot, and the three of us’ll be here to make sure there’s no damage to any of our equipment.”
That arrangement met with everyone’s approval. The rest of the staff left, followed by Baines and Littlejohn, then Lipson saw Izzy and Gray out of the door and locked it behind them.
The policemen had halted a yard away. As Izzy and Gray came up, Baines turned and said, “I need to get back to the Yard, but Littlejohn will head to the local watchhouse, get two constables, and bring them back here.”
