Page 78 of The Secrets of Lord Grayson Child
Izzy looked at Donaldson. “Anything further?”
Donaldson’s boyish grin returned. “No, ma’am.” He hefted his camera. “I’ll get on with it.”
Izzy watched him go, then looked at Gray. “What do you think?”
“That he’s intelligent and keen to do well, which in such a situation constitutes an excellent recommendation.”
She nodded and turned to receive the latest order slip Digby raced in to deliver.
From where he was sitting, Gray could see Baines and Littlejohn posing before the counter, with the stacks of copies ofThe Criertowering behind them. Donaldson was putting a copy into Baines’s hands and showing him how to hold it so the front page was fully revealed.
Digby continued to race back and forth, and Izzy’s head remained down as she worked through the orders and kept her tally.
Gray uncrossed his legs and rose. “I’m going to take a look around.”
She nodded without glancing up.
He ambled to the doorway and halted there. The foyer was a veritable hive of activity, with Mary, Horner, and Matthews continuing to take in the orders and load up the delivery boys. Although the line that had formed earlier had gone, there always seemed one lad at the counter and at least two waiting, impatiently shifting from foot to foot. As soon as one lad weighed down with copies left, another came barreling through the door, which was constantly opening and closing to the extent that someone had disabled the bell.
Closer to the office, Donaldson had set up his camera on its tripod and was in the process of aiming the lens at Baines and Littlejohn.
Gray stepped out of the doorway to let Digby rush past and remained by the wall, watching Donaldson work. When everything was ready and the photographer emerged to say “Hold still now” and pressed a button attached to the camera, Gray counted off the seconds.
Only seven elapsed before Donaldson took his finger off the button, relaxed, smiled, and nodded at the frozen policemen. “That should do it.”
Both Baines and Littlejohn looked faintly self-conscious. Baines turned and set the copy he’d held on the stack behind him, then with his sergeant, approached Donaldson.
Smiling, the photographer said, “I should have prints from that by tomorrow. If I don’t see you, I’ll leave them at the counter, shall I?”
“Mind, I want a look at it before you go putting it in the paper,” Baines growled.
Uncowed, Donaldson replied, “Of course.”
With a sharp nod, Baines ambled off, going past the end of the counter to prowl through the workshop.
After sharing an understanding look with Donaldson, Littlejohn followed his superior.
Gray left his position by the wall and approached Donaldson, who was fiddling with his apparatus. “That was a remarkably short exposure.” When Donaldson glanced at him, he added, “I’ve seen cameras used quite a bit in America, but I’ve never seen a photograph taken so quickly.”
Donaldson grinned. “It’s the latest lenses coupled with the newest medium. In fact, the way I work nowadays, that was a longish exposure, because it’s indoors”—he glanced at the wide front window at his back—“and the light in here isn’t that strong.” He turned back to Gray. “In halfway decent daylight, I can get good results in a few seconds or even less.”
Gray considered what that meant. “I imagine that will make photographs and photography much more exciting.”
Donaldson’s grin widened. “So we—all the photographers—hope.”
Gray watched him realign his camera, then walk across to speak with three delivery lads clustered about the counter. Donaldson spoke, and the three lads’ faces lit, and they nodded eagerly. He posed them so that one appeared to be about to receive his copies from Matthews, a second was at the counter, speaking earnestly with Mary, who was writing in her ledger, while the third looked on, slip in hand, poised to move in and submit his employer’s order.
Digby, ordered not to intrude on the scene, came to hover by Donaldson’s elbow.
Noting the intense concentration on Digby’s face, Gray smiled.
As soon as the photograph was taken, he started to return to the office, but then the front door burst open, and everyone whirled—hope leaping in every eye that someone was coming in with information—but it was only a gaggle of five delivery lads.
Immediately, a scuffle broke out over which of the five should front the counter first. From the words they flung at each other, each had been sent by their employer to secure extra copies of the hue and cry edition.
“Stop!” Gray’s tone cut like a whip and shocked the five lads into stillness. Across the foyer, he held them silent with his gaze and ordered, “Line up and wait your turn, or we’ll throw the lot of you out for half an hour.”
Baines and Littlejohn appeared at that moment. Baines scowled at the offenders, who immediately looked contrite and sorted themselves into a short queue.
