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say!” Maisie thumped the desk as she put down the notes, pushed back her chair and proceeded across the room to the case map. “It says in a column in the Express that a manager at Bookhams reckoned Eddie wouldn’t have felt a thing because of his ‘impaired mind.’ ”
    “That’s nasty, Miss.”
    “I wish I knew his name, and that’s a fact.”
    “Anything else?”
    “Bookhams is owned by John Otterburn.”
    “The bloke who owns all the papers? Millionaire, ain’t he?”
    “Yes, he’s a very rich man. I believe his family were from Canada, and seeing as there’s a considerable timber industry there, it should come as no surprise that the Otterburns made a lot of money in the paper business. In any case, I know where I can get more information about him.”
    “Viscount Compton?”
    Maisie nodded. “I’ll ask him tonight.”
    Billy gathered the pencils he was using and looked down, his cheeks showing a blush of pink. While he was aware his employer was “walking out” with James Compton—who was not only heir to Lord Julian Compton but had also assumed complete responsibility for the family’s interests in timber and construction in both the British Isles and Canada—even the smallest hint regarding the depth of their relationship caused Billy embarrassment. He preferred not to know about his employer’s personal life.
    “Of course, Miss. He would have some important information for us, I daresay,” added Billy.
    Maisie tapped a pencil against the table. “And I want to know what happened to Eddie’s notebook. I’ll talk to Mrs. Pettit again tomorrow, and let’s ask the men if they know who was first to reach Eddie’s body after the accident. At some point that notebook—if he had it with him—left his person. I want to know who has it now.”
    “Right you are, Miss.”
    “According to the early reports, the conveyor was working properly, so why did the roll of paper fall? What caused the ‘inexplicable’ accident?”
    “What shall I do next, Miss?”
    “Let’s finish this job first, see where we are and if anything leaps out at us. Then here’s what I want you to do—but wait until after my visit to Bookhams. I want you to have a word with some of the employees, ask around as if you’re looking for work, that sort of thing. Find out about the union situation. I daresay there’s a local pub where a number of the men go after work.”
    “Oh, I get your train of thought—an accident would give union organizers a bit of weight, even if Eddie wasn’t strictly a worker.”
    “It crossed my mind. It is unusual for a paper factory not to have a union presence. I’m not sure about the level of bearing it has on the case, but it certainly paints a picture of the owner as being a man who wants nothing to do with collective bargaining of any sort—he wants to retain control at all times. In any case, I also want you to find out a bit more about a fellow named Jimmy Merton—apparently he was about the same age as Eddie and made his life rather difficult when they were children. According to Maud Pettit, he came to work at Bookhams recently, and might have taken up where he left off with Eddie.”
    “If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s a bully.”
    “Me neither. In any case, as I said, I’m going back to see Mrs. Pettit tomorrow morning. I didn’t want to push things too far today, but I want to see if I can inspire her to remember who Eddie was working for on a regular basis. And I want to find the teacher who was helping him. All Maudie knew was that she lived across the water—that could be anywhere north of the river.”
    “Right then, Miss. I’d better get cracking.”
    Maisie smiled at Billy. He had seemed on edge at the beginning of the year, but seemed calmer the past month or so.
    “Baby sleeping through the night yet?”
    “At last, Miss. And I think we’re all grateful to her for that. Bobby asked me the other day, ‘When’s our little Meg going to stop