Джон Пристли - Salt is Leaving

"Want to bet on it?" And Hurst stared back at him.

"Certainly – five pounds," the doctor replied promptly. "Though I don't know who'd hold the stakes and decide upon the winner. Now then – Noreen Wilks. She seems to have been missing for about three weeks. And she's suffering from a very unusual form of chronic nephritis – a kidney disease. If you want the medical details, you can have them. It's rather a speciality of mine – so far as an overworked GP can have a speciality-"

"I'll take your word for all that, Dr Salt. But where's the urgency?"

"I'd worked out a treatment for her that just kept her going nicely. And I'd impressed it upon her that wherever she went, she must report to a doctor within ten days. I'd made her understand that if she went without treatment for several weeks, she'd soon be very ill indeed and might die. She could be silly and irresponsible about most things, but she knew this was serious, she was frightened, and she gave me a solemn promise. She carried in her bag a note from me to any doctor she might report to, giving details of the treatment and asking him to get in touch with me for her case history. Now she's not been heard of for three weeks. Dr Baldwin has her case history now, of course, but the point is that no doctor, in or out of a hospital, has been in touch with me about Noreen Wilks."

"But in spite of her solemn promise – and I know what these girls are – she may not have seen a doctor – just not bothered-"

"Then she'd be in a hospital now – or dead-"

"You can't prove that, Dr Salt-"

"I can't even prove I'm fit to attend anybody, not beyond having a few pieces of paper that say so. But I'm willing to show that girl's case history to any specialist – or body of specialists – you like to name-"

"I'm not querying your medical opinion, Dr Salt, just trying to follow your line of argument-"

"Good morning, Superintendent!" The man who had walked in was tall and thin, elderly and authoritative.

"Yes, Sir Arnold?" Hurst was on his feet, eager and smiling.

"I've just been having a word or two with your Chief, Colonel Ringwood-"

Dr Salt, not on his feet, produced an explosive cough.

"Oh – this is Dr Salt – Sir Arnold Donnington. Dr Salt's worried about a patient of his – a girl called Noreen Wilks – who seems to have disappeared. But I'm sure he won't mind-"

"Dr Salt?" Sir Arnold, who had the face for it, gave him a glance full of distaste. "We've met before, I think. In court when I was on the Bench. You gave some rather controversial evidence on behalf of that fellow-"

"Yes." Dr Salt looked up at him, rather like a sleepy little bear, but he had cut in very sharply. "He was a sick man."

Sir Arnold was obviously not a man to avoid battle. "But I seem to remember he was given a stiff sentence at the Assizes afterwards – several years, I think-"

"And he's still a sick man, probably worse. Sick in the head."

"Society has to be protected-"

"Some of it's not worth protecting," said Dr Salt sharply.

"No doubt some of it isn"t." But Sir Arnold's tone was equally sharp. "You should try being an industrialist these days, Dr – er – Salt. We have to employ about fifteen hundred women and girls. They come and go as they please, say and do what they like, swear like troopers or pack up and go if a foreman criticizes their work. No idea of order, responsibility, of trying to earn the wages we have to pay them – foul-mouthed sluts half of them. Perhaps the young woman you"re inquiring about – er-"

"Noreen Wilks," said Dr Salt carefully.

"Perhaps she was one of them-"

"She did work at United Fabrics for a time, I believe, Sir Arnold." Dr Salt now sounded amiable, perhaps even a little respectful. "But talk to the Superintendent. I can wait."

"Thank you. I shan't be long and you needn't go. Nothing private about this." He turned to the superintendent. "It's about the old Worsley place. You were keeping an eye on it for us."

"Yes, Sir Arnold. We still are. Why – nothing's happened up there, has it, sir?"

"Not to my knowledge – no, Superintendent. Though I must admit I haven't been near the place for months." Sir Arnold was easy and fluent. "As you probably know, the old Worsley place adjoins our United Fabrics Club, and we bought it so that we could turn it into an annex to the Club. We approved a scheme and accepted an estimate, and for the last three months I've been pressing the contractors to start work there. Maddening people. However, they"re now making a start in a few days" time, and as soon as they do they'll put in their own night watchman. Now I'll tell my secretary to notify you when the contractors are in. But just for these last few days I'd like your fellows to keep a particularly sharp eye on the place. Nothing worth stealing inside except possibly a few fittings – but, of course, there's the lead on the roof-"

"And that's what the villains like, Sir Arnold."

"Well, we don't want to lose it now. So tell your fellows to chase anybody out of the grounds. A dog would be useful-"

"I'm afraid we couldn't justify that, sir."

"No, we people who keep the town going mustn't ask too much, must we?" He had flared up, but now controlled himself. "Well, keep an eye on the place for the next few days, that's all I ask."

"We'll do that, Sir Arnold."

"Excellent! Dr Salt, I hope you find your patient – Dora Jilkes-"

"Noreen Wilks." Dr Salt said it very carefully.

"Quite. Well, I hope you find her. Good day to you both." And he didn't give Superintendent Hurst, who was dithering at the edge of his desk, time to show him out. However, Hurst lumbered to the door and went out into the corridor, in the hope that that would somehow show respect. When he came back, Dr Salt was busy lighting a pipe.

"What Americans – would call-" Dr Salt was speaking between puffs – "the Mr Big of Birkden. Chairman – United Anglo-Belgian Fabrics. Chairman – Birkden Telegraph Publishing Company. Senior Magistrate. Other things too. Mr Very Big of Birkden."

Hurst, back behind his desk, regarded his visitor with some disapproval. "Sir Arnold Donnington can be a bit stiff and sharp, but he's a fine man. He needn't have stayed here and identified himself with Birkden, but he has done. I don't know anybody who's done more to make Birkden what it is today."

"No doubt," said Dr Salt. "But what's that? No, don't tell me. I've spent too much time at the wrong end of it. By the way, Donnington didn't strike me as being stiff and sharp this morning. In fact, he was extremely nervous."

"I didn't notice it. And I can't imagine why he should be."

"He was, though. Take my word for it."

"He might have been a bit on the fussy side – about that old Worsley house. But it's not a month since he lost his only son. And Colonel Ringwood, the Chief Constable, who's a friend of his, says it's hit him very hard."

"Well, when a man's son commits suicide-"

"Dr Salt," Hurst came in heavily, "the verdict was accidental death. And it's not going to be anything else in this office. Yes, I know. He was cleaning a gun at five in the morning. But it's still accidental death here. Now have you anything you have to say to me about this Noreen Wilks?"

"Not much." Dr Salt took the pipe out of his mouth and looked hard at its mouthpiece. "She hasn't reported for treatment anywhere. She isn't in any hospital. Not unless the country's medical service is even worse than I think it is. And if she left Birkden, nobody so far seems to know when or how." He got up and then pointed his pipe at Hurst, who had also risen. "The girl's missing. Where is she? Is she alive or dead? You could begin making a few inquiries-"

"We'll do that, of course-"

"It's something I'd like to clear up before I leave Birkden-"