After turning a few more pages, Augusta felt reassured. The editor was giving the article little prominence. Hopefully this would mean fewer people would see it.
She turned another page. And then another. There was still no sign of the article. Had she missed it? Confused, she turned back to the beginning of the newspaper again. Perhaps the article had been so obvious that she had simply overlooked it.
But no, she couldn’t see it. She turned back to the middle of the newspaper and continued on. The pages were now showing sporting results and classified advertisements. She turned the page again and again, and her heart rate began to slow a little when she reached the back page.
There was no mention of her. But she didn’t want to breathe a sigh of relief just yet. Surely, she had missed something. She turned back to the first page of the newspaper and began again.
Chapter 53
‘Perhaps I’m not looking properly,’ Augusta said to Fred when she arrived at the bookshop with Sparky. ‘But I can’t find the article which Walter Ferguson claims to have written about me.’ She handed him the copy of the newspaper. ‘Can you see it in here?’
‘Perhaps it hasn’t been published after all?’ said Fred.
‘I doubt that. Walter Ferguson has been talking about it for weeks and the editor told Philip that he intended to publish it.’
‘I’ll have a look for you,’ said Fred. ‘But I can’t imagine you’re mistaken.’
‘I probably am. I’ve got myself into such a state about this. I woke up early worrying about it. I’m worried now that I can’t think straight.’
‘Let’s see,’ said Fred. He laid the newspaper on the counter and began to leaf through it. Augusta distracted herself by feeding some birdseed to Sparky. As Fred turned each page, she grew increasingly hopeful the article hadn’t been printed after all.
Finally he reached the end. ‘I can’t see it,’ he said. ‘You weren’t imagining it, Augusta. It hasn’t been printed.’
Augusta blew out a sigh of relief. ‘Thank goodness. But what does this mean? Perhaps they’re going to print it next week instead?’
She turned as she heard footsteps on the stairs and Philip appeared.
‘Good morning!’ His greeting was cheerful.
‘Good morning, Philip. Fred and I can’t find the article in the London Weekly Chronicle.’
‘That’s because it hasn’t been published.’
‘We’ve realised that. Have you looked through the paper already?’
‘No. I managed to talk some sense into a junior minister at the War Office late yesterday. I went down there in person and refused to leave until I could speak to someone important there. I explained to the minister what the editor of the London Weekly Chronicle was planning to do and told him the War Office needs to have a firm word with the editor and instruct him not to publish. The minister was concerned and said he’d do what he could. Thankfully, it looks like he’s succeeded.’
‘Thank you, Philip!’ Augusta couldn’t help herself. She stepped over to him and embraced him. ‘I’m so happy you persuaded them!’
She stepped back again and Philip looked a little embarrassed as he straightened his tie.
‘I merely explained to the minister that the War Office needed to read the article to find out what information was illicitly passed to Walter Ferguson. If he was given details which could only have been obtained from your file, Augusta, then he has a case to answer to. As does the person in the War Office who gave him that information.’
‘I hope they get into trouble for it,’ said Augusta.
‘It hasn’t put a complete stop to Ferguson,’ said Philip. ‘Maybe he’ll try to print a modified version of his article. But that can’t contain anything which isn’t already publicly known. So I think your secrets are safe for now, Augusta.’
Chapter 54
Walter Ferguson marched into Mr Baker’s office. He didn’t bother to knock. The editor startled and got to his feet.
‘What happened?’ said Walter. He could feel himself shaking with rage.
Mr Baker was a bald, feeble looking man. Walter felt sure he could fell him with just one blow. ‘The government got involved, that’s what happened,’ said the editor.
‘The government? How?’
‘I received a telephone call yesterday from a junior minister at the War Office. He requested to see the article about Mrs Peel because he was concerned it contained illegally obtained information.’
‘And how did he know about it?’
‘I don’t know. Perhaps Mrs Peel mentioned it to him.’
‘Does she know him?’
‘I don’t know, Mr Ferguson. Anyway, with a request like that, I had to speak to the proprietor of this newspaper, Mr Granger. He was alarmed to hear the War Office was concerned about the article. He told me to comply with their request, so I did.’
‘Ridiculous!’
‘Concern had been expressed that confidential information had been obtained from files held within the War Office. What sources did you use for your article, Mr Ferguson?’
‘My usual sources. As I’ve told you before, I know people who know Mrs Peel.’
‘And I don’t expect you to name them. However, if they have given you information which is supposed to remain confidential, it shouldn’t be made public. No matter how well you know this person or people. Anyway, the long and the short of it was the minister decided there was information in the article which could not be used because it could only have been obtained from War Office files. So, he upheld the complaint that was put to him and he informed me that we wouldn’t be able to publish at all.’
Walter sank down into a chair. All the air had left him. He shook his head in dismay. ‘Mrs Peel has pulled strings yet again. I didn’t realise she was so well acquainted with figures in the government. That woman is beyond belief.’
‘Your article revealed her true identity, Mr Ferguson. If you can prove you found that information from somewhere other than the files held on Mrs Peel at the War Office, then we have a good argument for proceeding with publication. But if you sourced it illegally, then I’m afraid our hands are tied. We have an official order from the War Office that we are unable to print the article. If you think you can prove you obtained the information legitimately, then we can proceed. It really is up to you, Mr Ferguson.’
