Albert and I sat gazing unhappily at The Green Door.
"He is somewhere out there, Albert, and he seems to be having a rough time of it," I said, "but there is nothing we can do to help him."
We were quiet for a while, each lost in his thoughts, and then Albert spoke.
"You look tired, Earnest; this business is taxing us all, and I am as worried about Peregrine as you are, but something else is wrong; I know it. That affair with Cheap in your office has me puzzled. Cheap is a born rogue, yet you took his side when he was guilty of eavesdropping. Why Earnest? Does the youth have some hold over you?"
It was bound to come out some time, but I still hesitated to tell Albert the truth. No good could come of it.
"Not now, Albert; Peregrine is our priority right now; perhaps later," I replied.
"Very well, Earnest, but I am determined to find the underlying cause of this, and if you won't tell me, then I must consult Aunty and ask her opinion."
"No!" I said. "There is no need to involve Aunty."
"Won't you share your trouble with me, Earnest? Nothing has been the same since that night you brought young Cheap home. I remember it well. He was a snivelling wretch of a boy dressed in rags, and all his mock humility could not conceal his deceit. I remember exactly what he said.
"I thank you two gentlemen from the bottom of my unworthy heart for your employment, and in my 'umble way, I will strive to give satisfaction in my work, no matter how lowly my position."
Albert imitated Cheap's whine to perfection.
"Very well, Albert, you deserve to know my reasons, but I have the strangest fancy that the Green Door hears every word we say, and we must go to my study. Perhaps Montana will make us a pot of tea if I ask her nicely."
Montana was happy to oblige when we asked, but I could see that she was unusually subdued; we were not the only ones worrying about Peregrine. Albert settled himself in one of my comfortable chairs, teacup in hand, and waited until Montana had left.
"Now, Ernest, I will ask my question again. Who is Cluan Cheap, where did he come from, and why do you favour him so much? I trust that you will answer all three questions with complete honesty. "
I leaned back in my chair and looked at the ceiling.
"Ever remember the Mark Two Portal, Albert?"
"Of course. It was one of my least successful innovations; there were problems with the electricity, and we discontinued the line years ago."
He frowned. "I seem to remember that a competitor somehow got hold of the design and quite illegally manufactured a portal. His company went into liquidation after a man died by electrocution while attempting the first crossing through the portal. The directors simply disappeared. Shady business."
"And do you recall the name of our bookkeeper at the time?"
"Yes, I do. Miss Sharp is a disreputable character. She left in very suspicious circumstances after a snap audit by our accountants revealed a large cash deficiency. All the evidence pointed to her, but she did it so cleverly that we could not prove a thing. But is this relevant?"
"Patience, Albert. All will soon become clear. The owners of the company, who mysteriously came into possession of our Mark Two design, were Miss Sharp and her brother, Edmund. Money stolen from us has funded their company. The man who electrocuted himself in an attempt to use the portal was Edmund. Miss Sharpe was his only living relative, but the authorities could not trace her. They closed the case, and people soon forgot about the incident. The years passed by until one day I got a letter from somebody calling herself Mrs. Cheap, and she requested that I make myself available for a visit the next day at noon to discuss a matter of the gravest importance. I was intrigued and left instructions for my clerk to bring her to my office on arrival.
At noon the next day, I heard a knock at my door, and Stephen, my head clerk, entered with a poorly dressed woman with her head wrapped in a shawl that covered her face.
"Please sit down," I said.
Stephen left the room, and the woman sat down opposite me without saying a word.
"What can I do for you?" I asked.
She raised her head and pulled the shawl from her face.
"Don't you know me, Mr. Earnest?" she said.
"Her face was sallow and pinched, Albert. She looked half-starved, but her eyes glittered with determination. I did not recognize her and peered more closely."
"I used to do your books, remember?"
"Miss Sharp?" I said it incredulously.
"As was,' she said. I am now a widow. Mrs. Cheap is my married name."
'And why are you here?'
"Firstly, to beg your forgiveness, I know I sinned against you, but I am a changed woman. I found religion through my dear late husband, Mr. Cheap, and now I rejoice in my humbleness. A quality we have taken great pains to pass on to our dear son Cluan, who sorely lacks the guidance of a father since Mr. Cheap passed away.'
She dabbed at her eyes with a grubby handkerchief.
"I regret your actions, Mrs. Cheap; they caused us a great deal of trouble," I said, "but since it was so long ago, I am prepared to forgive you. Now, if you have no further business."
"One moment, sir, if you will allow me to finish my story."
"Very well, Mrs. Cheap, but I fail to see what more there is to discuss."
"But there is, Mr. Earnest, there is. You can see from my appearance that I am a woman without means. I wish nothing for myself; my health is failing, and I have little time left in this world. But I fear for the future of my dear son, Cluan, and have come to ask that you take him on as an apprentice to your business. He has a good head for figures, and is well-mannered, and modest in appearance and speech.
"That is quite out of the question, Mrs. Cheap, and I must ask you to leave my office."
Her eyes glittered in defiance.
She hunched her narrow shoulders so closely together that her fleshless bones jutted up like the stingers of a wasp.
"I advise you most humbly, dear Mr. Earnest, that it is in your best interests to hear me out. I believe that once you have the full facts, you will change your mind. You may even alter your aggressive attitude toward a poor, defenceless woman. I find you lacking in Christian spirit, Earnest, but we are all capable of reform; no sinner is ever beyond redemption."
I was finding it difficult to suppress my anger, but I admit that I was curious about this wizened old woman who looked like a beggar but spoke fluently and possessed an educated vocabulary.
"My late brother Edmund, who died so tragically, was operating a machine designed by your company with the patent signed by your dear brother, Mr. Albert," she continued. "I trust he is in good health; for us to fail to agree today would condemn him to a very trying ordeal in court and certain imprisonment."
"What are you talking about?" I exclaimed.
"I have a bill of sale I recently found in Edmund's papers, stating that the Mark 2 Portal supplied had been subject to stringent testing and personally guaranteed by the vendor as safe for use. Mr. Albert signed it."
"That can't be true. We never sold any of those portals."
"Really? What happened to the prototypes that failed in the original trials?"
"Disposed of as scrap, which was our normal procedure."
"I presume that you have the relevant paperwork filed away and available for inspection."
"I don't know; that was Albert's area of responsibility, but after so many years, it is unlikely to have been retained."
She gave me a tight smile.
"Quite."
She had played a winning card and knew it.
I went on the defensive.
"But Albert would never do something so dishonest as to certify a faulty machine as safe.'
"We all make mistakes, of course,' she said patronizingly, "especially when under pressure, and if my memory serves me well, it was around the time of the machine failure that Albert was hospitalized with nervous exhaustion."
My spirits sank. This was no idle threat. She had prepared her case with skill, and I had to proceed with caution.
"But that was all because of the long hours he spent trying to modify Mark Two. He ran himself into the ground."
"Really? His failure must have cost the company a great deal of money. I can only assume that it was preying on his mind, and he was trying to recoup the losses."
"That is an outrageous allegation."
"I agree, Mr. Earnest, but would a jury?"
"Where is the evidence for this so-called Bill of Sale?"
"In a safe place. But I have to say I was shocked when it first became known to me, and although I cannot swear it is genuine, it appears very convincing, and Albert's signature, which I am of course familiar with, looks remarkably authentic."
"And so, the conversation went on, Albert, but the conclusion was never in doubt. She was relentless, and although it seemed strange for someone with her record of lies and dishonesty, she did seem to put the welfare of her son above anything else and refused when I offered a considerable sum of money for the return of the forgery.
And it was a forgery; it must have been. Never once did I doubt you, Albert, not even for a second, but I am sorry to say that a jury would. There was considerable circumstantial evidence against us, and we had no defence to offer other than our reputation, which in those times of political turmoil counted for little. I could not take the chance of the court convicting you, Albert, and I agreed to her demand to take on her son and teach him the business."
"This Mrs. Cheap," said Albert, "is she still alive?"
"No, she died shortly after I took the boy in, but she took great pains to let me know that young Cluan knew everything and had the Bill of Sale in his possession."
"There is little doubt," Albert added, "that it was Mrs. Cheap herself who forged the document. I remember that she was a dab hand at calligraphy when she worked here as Miss Sharp and would have had no trouble at all duplicating my signature. This is bad business, Earnest, and if Peregrine can successfully lock the Green Door and allow us the time, we will deal with young Mr. Cheap in no uncertain fashion. No matter what happens, his time in this establishment is coming to a swift end, but for now, our priority is the welfare of Peregrine".