The Fog - James Herbert [47]
Anyway, his being away so often was a good excuse to get rid of him. Balmer could take his place, he was a good lad, always quick with an answer, always ready to take on more work. And with Symes getting out and about more, meeting the people as it were, he needed a good back-up man to handle the steady influx of routine work. It was a good policy to go out and contact the local businessmen and developers personally, rather than wait for them to come to him. See them in their offices, visit the sites, talk business over a good three-hour lunch – that was the way to treat good clients and drum up new ones. Now that the word had been whispered down from Head Office that the world of banking no longer sat on its backside and waited for the corporations to come to them, but went out and searched for promising enterprises themselves, they expected the managers of their local branches to do the same. He was sure that his own activities would soon come to their notice, and, unlike many of his counterparts in other branches, he relished the thought of being called to Head Office to build his reputation in the very fountain-head of the bank. Today he had some extremely important appointments to keep and the thought of Small-wood letting him down again filled him with annoyance.
There was a light tap on the door and his secretary poked her head through the smallest gap possible and said, ‘Mr Smallwood’s in, Mr Symes. I thought you might like to know.’ She smiled smugly.
Symes looked up in surprise. It was usual for his assistant to be away, but very unusual for him to be late. ‘Is he indeed? Well, would you inform him I’d like to see him right away, Mrs Platt.’
His secretary’s head disappeared from view and seconds later, the door opened again to reveal Smallwood standing outside.
‘Come in, come in. Don’t just stand there,’ said Symes, irritably. ‘Why are you so late?’
Edward closed the door behind him and walked up to the manager’s desk, not answering.
‘Well, I asked you a question and I expect an answer.’
Edward rubbed his forehead with his hand and looked at Symes as though he’d never seen him before. ‘I – I ran into a little trouble, sir.’
The little trouble had in fact amounted to being charged with causing a breach of the peace and assaulting an officer of the law, a charge he would have to answer to in court the following morning. A kindly police sergeant who knew his parents had advised him to return home and rest, knowing there was nothing malicious about him, and putting the morning’s event down as ‘nervous exhaustion or something like that’. But Edward hadn’t gone home. He had something to do.
Symes studied his assistant’s face and sighed resignedly. He supposed he was lucky that Smallwood had turned up at all – he certainly looked rather pale.
‘All right, you know I’ve got a busy day on, tell me later. I’ve got an appointment at 11.00 and want to go down to the vault before I leave.’ He gathered up some papers and put them away in his drawer. ‘Reverend Peters made rather a large deposit today for his Restoration Fund. The man’s an idiot – keeps his collections at the vicarage until he has a sizeable amount, then deposits it. Doesn’t like to trouble me too often he says.’ He walked around his desk to the wall-safe. ‘I’ve told him so many times he’ll get robbed one day. Three hundred pounds he brought in today!’ He dialled the combination and swung the safe door open reaching inside for a brown envelope and the keys to the vault room. ‘I don’t want this lying around while I’m out all day, even though it’s safe enough in here. You can never be too careful, Smallwood. Besides, as I told Mrs Platt, if all goes well, I may not even be back at all today.’ He had arranged to meet his last client of