Page 21 of The Time for Love
The locksmith handed over the keys, then with a salute to Martin and Hector, hoisted his now-much-lighter barrow and trundled it off down the street.
Hector hefted the clinking bag. “I, for one, will be happy to know these keys are going only to people who need to have them.”
Martin nodded, turned, and started across the yard for the office.
Sophy was pushing aside her completed correspondence when he and Hector walked in.
“All done.” Hector placed the clinking pouch on the desk. “A good job he made of it, too.”
“Excellent!” Sophy fell on the pouch’s ties and pulled out sets of keys. She arranged them on the desk, studying the labels as she did. “Now to hand them out.”
“Make a list this time,” Martin advised. When she glanced at him, he added, “Please.”
She arched a haughty brow. “Of course.” Looking back at the keys, she added, “Luckily, I’m not my father. I’m not at all inclined to have everyone associated with the place be able to waltz into whatever area they choose.” She looked at Hector. “Please tell Harvey to bring his list of locks so we can make a note of who should have which key.”
Hector nodded and left.
Martin sat in one of the visitors’ chairs and watched as Harvey breezed in and he and Sophy went over the list and noted who should get a key to what.
That done, Sophy rose and picked up the list and the pouch of keys. Unbidden but, he noted, also not dismissed, Martin ambled in her wake as, starting in the main office with Harvey and Mildred, Sophy did the rounds of the works, handing out the necessary keys to the relevant people.
Him being present when she handed out each key wasn’t without design; he watched to see if any of the men were taken aback to be given only the keys they were deemed to need to perform their duties. However, if anything, every man looked relieved to have responsibility for only the keys he needed. Other than Hinckley, who received keys to all the new locks, none of the crew who worked in the shed received keys to the main office or the receiving office, and only some got keys to the warehouse or the store.
Feeling vindicated in his reading of the men—none had struck him as bad apples—Martin followed Sophy up the steep metal stairs to the laboratory, their last stop on their key-delivering journey.
He hadn’t been into the laboratory since his visit that first day. The same gray-coated, bespectacled individuals he’d seen on that occasion looked up from their instruments and charts and greeted Sophy with smiles and assurances that everything was behaving as it ought.
She asked several questions about the recent blows, then, plainly satisfied, handed out the new keys and explained their limitations. Neither man seemed the least bothered by the restriction of their access to other parts of the works. They pocketed the keys and, with polite nods to Sophy and curious glances at him, returned to their work.
As if drawn by some enchantment, Sophy drifted to the wide windows and halted there, looking out at the second converter that was currently building toward a blow.
Both she and Martin, standing, waiting, just inside the door, heard the rapid patter of boots rushing up the metal stairs.
Martin stepped away from the door. It was thrust open, and the lad he’d seen working in the office under Mildred’s eye came barreling in.
The youth’s wide gaze swept the area and landed on Sophy. “Miss Carmichael, miss! Mr. Harvey sent me to tell you there’s a gentleman in the office says he needs to speak with the owner.”
“Oh?” Quitting the window, Sophy made for the door. “Did Mr. Harvey mention the gentleman’s name, Timmy?”
Timmy nodded. “A Mr. Coulter, miss.”
Martin caught the startled look Sophy, halting, sent him and fought to temper his smile into a less-feral expression. “Perhaps,” he suggested, “Timmy could tell Harvey to show the gentleman into your office and inform him that you’ll be along shortly.”
Sophy considered that, then looked at Timmy. “Please tell Mr. Harvey what Mr. Cynster just suggested, but don’t mention Mr. Cynster’s name.” From the corner of her eye, she saw Martin smile in appreciation of her stipulation.
Timmy frowned. “You want me to say it like this, miss?”
He repeated the order as if it had come from her, and she nodded approvingly. “Just like that.”
She pointed to the door, and Timmy spun around and rushed off, clattering back down the stairs. She looked at Martin. “Coulter turning up at this moment is surely suspicious.”
To her surprise, he looked equivocal. “Possibly.” He waved her to the door. “There’s one way to find out. Let’s see what he has to say.”
She led the way out of the laboratory. At the bottom of the stairs, she waited for Martin to join her, then started for the shed door. “It would be helpful—to me at least—were you to join us.” She glanced at him. “Will Coulter recognize you?”
“Oh yes.” He met her gaze. “We belong to the same clubs, and as competitors of sorts, we’re very much aware of the other’s existence.”
She tipped her head and increased her pace. She wanted to throw Coulter off his stride and, she judged, finding Martin in her company would accomplish that. As, no doubt, he intended to accompany her regardless, she might as well make best use of him.
