Free The Shadow in the North by Philip Pullman Page A

track now. I wonder

    whats making Mr. Bellmann so anxious? Could it be the Ingrid LindeV^
    It was a shot in the dark—but it struck home. Mr. Windlesham drew breath sharply, and a scholarly frown appeared on his brow.
    "I really would advise great care," he said. "It is very easy for the inexperienced person to make serious errors in the interpretation of quite innocent facts. If I were you. Miss Lockhart, I would stick to financial consultancy, I really would. And may I say'—he rose, gathering stick and hat—"as a private person, how much I admire your enterprise? I have always taken a keen and sympathetic interest in the woman question. Stick to what you know. Miss Lockhart. I wish you every success. But dont let your imagination run away with you.
    He raised his stick in salute. Chaka, not understanding, leaped to his feet and growled, but the mild little man didn't flinch.
    Well, thought Sally as he left, hes got nerve. What do I do now?
    What she did do, as soon as he had gone, was put on her coat and hat and walk to the office of her friend Mr. Temple the lawyer.
    Mr. Temple was an ironical old gentleman who moved in a faint perpetual fragrance of buckram and seedcake and snuff. He had been her father s lawyer and

    had helped her when Captain Lockhart was killed six years before; Sally had so impressed him with her knowledge of the stock market and her grasp of financial affairs that he had overcome his old-fashioned reservations and had helped her to set up first her partnership with Webster Garland and second her own business.
    She told him briefly about the background of the case and described Mr. Windlesham's visit that morning.
    "Sally," he said when she'd finished, "you will take care, won't you?"
    "That's what he said. I thought you'd come up with something more original!"
    He smiled and tapped his snuffbox.
    "The great strength of the law," he said, "lies in the fact that so litde of it is original. Thank heaven. Tell me what you know about North Star."
    She summarized all she knew, which was not much. She left out Nellie Budd, however; she thought Mr. Temple was hardly likely to be impressed by trance revelations from the world of spirits. She wasn't even sure if she was.
    "I don't know whether it's manufacturing, or mining, or what it is," she ended. "There's a connection with a chemicals firm, but that's all I know. What do you think could make them want to keep it secret?"
    "Chemicals," he said thoughtfully. "Nasty, smelly

    things that leak and poison the water and . . . Does he still make matches?"
    "No. There was a government investigation in Sweden, and his factory was closed down; but it turned out he'd sold it the year before, so he wasn't responsible."
    "Well, now. I happened to come across the name North Star in another context a day or so ago. A man at my club was talking about cooperative societies, trade unions, and what-have-you, and he mentioned some new firm up in Lancashire that's been organized on odd lines—didn't quite follow what he was saying, wasn't really listening, as a matter of fact—don't go to my club for lectures on sociology—but the gist of it was that this firm had set out to organize the lives of its workers down to the last detail. Like Robert Owen. Total control, you see. It sounded appalling to me. But the point was that it was called North Star."
    Sally sat up and smiled. "At last!" she said.
    "I beg your pardon?"
    "A clue. What does this firm do?"
    "Ah, that he didn't know. Something to do with railways, he thought. . . . Would you care for a glass of sherry?"
    She accepted, and watched the little motes of legal dust floating in the ray of sunshine that slanted through the old window while he poured the drink. Mr. Temple was an old friend, and she'd dined at his house many times, but she still didn't feel quite at ease when they

    stopped talking about business. Things that other young women could do easily—make small talk, dance gracefully, flirt with a