“Mr. Jopling sacked him yesterday, for insubordination. It was almost the last decision he made before he resigned. Mind you, Steve Pollock can’t complain. He’s been sent home on full pay until the union completes its investigations. No one doubts that he’ll be reinstated. The only trouble is, the committee usually takes a couple of months before they come to a decision.”

“But he must have had a deputy?” said Fisher, unable to hide his frustration.

“Yes, Les Simkins. But he’s on a time-and-motion course at Hull Poly. Waste of time and not a lot of motion, if you ask me.”

Fisher strode across the room and looked down onto the factory floor. “Why isn’t the machinery working? Isn’t this meant to be a twenty-four-hour nonstop operation?” he said, staring down at a dozen workers who were standing around, hands in pockets, idly chatting, while one of them rolled a cigarette.

“We usually work an eight-hour-shift system,” said Perry, “but you need a statutory number of qualified workers before the machinery can be turned on—regulations, you understand—and unfortunately an unusually large number of the lads are on sick leave this week.” The phone on his desk began to ring. He picked it up and listened for a moment. “I’m sorry to hear that, sir, but our new chairman has just arrived, so I’ll pass you over to him.” Perry covered the mouthpiece and said, “It’s the harbor master, Captain Borwick. Seems to have a problem.”

“Good morning, Borwick, it’s Major Fisher, the chairman of the company. How can I help?”

“Good morning, major. It’s quite simple really, you’ve got three days’ supply of cod piled up on my dockside, which I’d like picked up as soon as possible.”

“I’ll get on to it straightaway.”

“Thank you, major, because if it hasn’t been removed by four o’clock I’ll have no choice but to dump it back in the sea.” The phone went dead.

“Where are the lorries that pick up the morning catch?”

“The drivers hung around until midday, but as no one had the authority to give the order for them to go to the harbor, they packed up for the day and went home. You only missed them by a few minutes, major. They’ll be back at six tomorrow morning. Bob was always here first thing. Liked to go down to the docks and supervise the loading himself. That way, he could be sure no one palmed him off with yesterday’s catch.”

Fisher slumped into a chair and stared at a pile of unopened letters addressed to Mr. Bingham. “Do I have a secretary, by any chance?” he asked.

“Val. There’s nothing she doesn’t know about this place.”

Fisher managed a weak smile. “So where is she?”