5. BLINKY’S DOUBTS

THE CASE OF MERCURY RISING, 5

Blinky was almost obstinate when I told him that we had a new commission. We were in the main office at 221c, with Angelina sorting the post in the outer office. So far, to him, is was a very ordinary day with ordinary things to discuss.

At first he was pleased.

“What’s afoot then?” he asked, “we need a new source of income. I tried blackmailing the Prime Minister, but he doesn’t care who knows that he’s a liar, so it didn’t work.”

“We’ve been commissioned by Igor,” I began, a little hesitantly because I was afraid that Blinky would explode when I reached the crux of my explanation.

“Oh, really?” He raised both eyebrows, which worried my because it might mean his 20/20 vision would switch off any moment like it did so often. But for the meanwhile he was all right, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Igor has a special requirement for two of us to do a little something for him,” I continued.

“You and me? You mean we leave the girl alone to run things? Over my dead body! Girls are only useful for one thing and it’s best we don’t talk about that!” he shouted. Angelina was in the outer office and could hear every word, but then, she was used to Blinky and his rather outdated attitude to her and her gender.

“No sir,” I said nervously, and he must have known something was afoot when I used the word sir.

“Who then?” he bellowed.

“He rather thinks it’s a job for the lass and me, seeing as we’re, er, cohabiting these days,” I said, trying to be direct and failing miserably.

“You? The lass? Cohabiting?” he squeaked, and I don't think I’ve ever heard him squeak before. “When did this happen? Why wasn’t I told? You might end up getting her pregnant if you cohabit! Cohabiting can be a dangerous thing!”

There were so many assumptions (many of them perfectly valid, but how was he to know?) in that question I merely sighed and told him, quite truthfully, that we were both responsible adults with too much respect for each other to do such a thing.

“What he means,” said Angelina, coming in from her office and smiling so sweetly at Blinky I thought he was going to swoon at her feet, “what he actually and really and truthfully means is that I’m on the pill and absolutely never forget to take it.”

“But you...” he stuttered, “at your age...”

Age was a confusion for Blinky. When he’d first had Angelina foisted on him as his secretary he had been permanently blind and mistaken her for a septuagenarian. Since then he had recovered spasmodic bouts of vision and looked on her as being little more than a child.

“I’m quite old enough for sex,” she told him quite too explicitly for my liking, “and it’s something we both enjoy, after a finger or two of single malt of an evening.”

He coughed artificially and deliberately in order to give himself time to think, then,

“What’s this new commission you’re on about?” he spluttered.

“We’re going to dispose of some of Igor’s diamonds,” said Angelina. I know it was almost a deceptive reply, but I also know Blinky only too well and certainly well enough to wish she had been even more deceptive. Sometimes the truth needs to have a few lies smoothing the way for it before it’s slung into his face.

“Where? In a bin? In a fire? Where?” he barked.

Angelina produced that smile again. It really was wicked of her because it made parts of my own body squirm as I beheld its beautiful perfection and knew that it was a prelude to a horrible great big truth.

“In the sun,” she smiled at him, “isn’t it wonderful?”

Blinky had never been particularly slow on the uptake, but he was this time.

“What sun?” he asked.

“That great big shining thing in the sky when there aren’t any clouds about,” I put in, “you know, the sun.”

“Now you’re having me on,” he managed, and then, mercifully, I saw him stagger slightly and grab hold of a nearby hat stand for balance, and knew that his eyesight had flipped and he was temporarily blind. I grabbed hold of his elbow and helped him into his chair.

“It would seem, sir, that the diamonds are so damned dangerous they must be totally destroyed, and Igor’s certain there’s no means on Earth with the ability to cause their decomposition. So we’re to go on a swift jaunt to a high place and launch them at the sun from there.”

Blinky thought like I had originally, when Igor had put the proposal to me. That maybe a high mountain would do. Somewhere like Everest, even though it can be darned cold up there, with blizzards and all sorts of dangerous obstacles put in the way of comfort.

“It’s have to be a huge mountain,” he said, “and it’ll take a couple of days at least.”

“No, sir, not even a huge mountain,” said Angelina with such a radiant smile that even I almost melted, “a lot further than that, and it’ll take a bit more than two days. We reckon a couple of months at least.”

“You what!” he roared, “two months away from the office? Two months away from any more lucrative commissions from important politicians? Two months away from ME?”

I nodded. “At least,” I said, quietly, “but the pay should be good if we succeed.”

“Well, I won’t let you,” he said more firmly than I’d ever heard him speak before. “It’s up to me what enquiries the Curmudgeon Agency takes on and I’m not letting you two loose on a wild goose chase with diamonds in your pockets for two whole months, believe you me.”

“But Blinky,” began Angelina in that voice that could call birds from the tree tops if that’s what she desired, “aren’t you the one who established our most important rule when it comes to who we work for? Wasn’t it you who taught Royston and me that we must always be true to our words? That if we say we’re going to do something then, come wind or high water, we must do it?”

“Of course,” he stammered, knowing it was the one lesson he hoped he’d hammered into his employees and that they’d never forget it.

“Well, sir, we’ve given our word to Igor. That we’d take off in his rather unusual vehicle until we’re close to the sun but in the shadow cast by the planet Mercury, and that when we got there we’d shoot his diamonds into the heart of the sun before returning home. It’s as simple as that. Our word to Igor.”

“Without my approval, damn you!” he roared, blind as he was.

“Yes sir,” I said, “for we both knew that you’re such a decent chap you wouldn’t order us on such a dangerous venture in case we came to harm, and that this is something we had to decide for ourselves without putting undue strain on you or the Curmudgeon Agency. So that’s what we’ve done.”

“Yes sir,” added Angelina, “and we’ve told Igor that we’ll do it. Given him our word, and as your agents our word must surely be our bond.”

Blinky groaned.

“Damn you,” he muttered, “damn, damn, damn you! But I suppose it’ll give me a chance to get my eyesight checked out by an expert I know if I’ve to shut down for a couple of months. But still, damn you! When are you off on this damned stupid jaunt?”

“Tomorrow, sir, once we’ve packed,” smiled Angelina, “how many knickers do you think I’ll need for two months in space?”

© Peter Rogerson 17.02.20