The Player on the Other Side Read Online Free PDF Page B

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5
    Interplay
    â€˜I brought the mail.’
    Tom Archer’s dealings with Robert York had been correct, dignified and beyond criticism. Work on the records of Robert York’s philatelic holdings proceeded smoothly, and at lunchtime the day before, they had agreed with the politeness of duelists that the end was at last in sight and soon they could begin the final cataloguing. Work had also been done on the family accounts — that part of the accounts, of course, in which the four Yorks were concerned in common, not individually. Robert York, as eldest of the cousins, and as by nature the logical representative of the founding Yorks, had charge of this work by general consent. Tom Archer, as Robert’s secretary, helped with the accounting and was privy to these particular matters — wages for the help, upkeep and maintenance of houses and park, prorating of part-time wages as in the case of Mrs. Schriver, the housekeeper who slept out and ‘did’ for Percival as well as for Robert; and such trivia.
    The waiting stiffness between the two men had doubtless contributed to their efficiency. Tom Archer (because he was at root a man of peace) and Robert York (whose self-righteousness had as one of its prime articles an insistence on fair play) were, in each his own way, ashamed of the outbreak of temper over the alleged Seebecks. And each, unknown to the other, had his special reason for wishing to preserve their relationship. In a way, then, this particular mail was a pity, for it could not fail to upset their precarious equilibrium.
    Tom Archer set the mail down before his employer and a sense of fatefulness flashed through him: This will change things a bit! But first, from his breast pocket he took a manila envelope, drew out its contents and placed them on the envelope and the envelope on the small heap of mail.
    â€˜There!’
    Robert York pursed his very thin lips. ‘What’s this?’
    â€˜The analysis from Jenks & Donahue.’ Archer extruded a forefinger and slightly separated the sheets in Robert York’s hand. ‘And here are the stamps.’
    â€˜Hmp,’ said Robert York, and he began to read.
    â€˜Oh!’ he said after a second.
    â€˜Oh …’ he said, after a minute.
    Then he looked up, his skin tighter than usual, his barely bluish lips puckered with the bitter taste of crow.
    â€˜I said that if this report proved the stamps genuine, I should owe you an apology. You have it.’
    â€˜Thank you.’
    â€˜Mr. Archer, I meant what I said when I made your resignation contingent upon this.’ He tapped the report.
    â€˜I am quite aware of that, sir.’
    â€˜Had it proved that you made a mistake, I should have insisted upon it. Since it’s I who was mistaken I feel I must offer, rather than demand, the same thing.’
    â€˜I don’t understand, Mr. York.’
    â€˜Then I shall explain,’ said Robert York stiffly. ‘It may well be that after what has happened you will no longer wish to be associated with me. If that is the case, I shall certainly understand it; and to do what I can to right the injustice, I shall give you the finest possible recommendation.’
    â€˜Mr. York,’ Archer began.
    â€˜And perhaps a little more than the usual, ah, notice. In fact, if you’d like to stay on here while you look for something else —’ He stopped to open the left-hand top desk drawer, frowning, then suddenly smiled a wan, pathetic smile, for even as he reached into the drawer, Archer had spun to the cabinet behind him, opened it, plucked a stack of tissues from a box and placed them on the desk beside the mail — all in the time it took Robert York to restore his reaching hand to the status quo ante .
    York took two tissues, folded them once and blew his nose hard. ‘Mr. Archer, thank you. You’re — you’ve been a good chap.’ It was as if Mahomet had gone to the