A Fantastic Fear of Everything Page #4

It's just...

You're asking a lot, Clair, okay?

I don't do launderettes.

Never have done, never will.

It's no place for a man like me.

Exposing your most intimate articles

in front of strangers.

- Stop it, you're being ridiculous.

- You know me, Clair. I'm sensitive.

- I've never even bought toilet roll.

- All right, enough.

Jack, I've worked very hard getting

your script to the right people

and I'm afraid there's no interest.

I said nothing because I didn't want

to disturb you. That's the reality.

I can't see any other options.

It's Humphries or bust.

- I understand.

- Good.

Call and let me know

how it goes, darling.

(DIALING TONE)

And so it was that I first came

to hear the name Harvey Humphries.

I had sat in every head of scripts

department in London,

listening to these twats

full of white wine and arugula,

but I had never heard of this man.

"Harvey Humphries

of Humbolt Mews."

I didn't like the sound of it.

The name seemed innocent enough,

but there was something that jarred.

It might be the "Harvey Humphries

Humbolt" bit that was worrying me.

But I had a friend,

Garry Gordon in Garrick Street.

And he'd never caused me

any problem.

No.

It was something stronger

than just a repetition of the H.

It was more a sensation of having

heard Harvey Humphries

in some unsavory context.

Harvey.

It was the Harvey.

Harvey was the middle name

of Dr. Hawley Harvey Crippen,

the Yank Who'd spent all night

in the basement

of 39 Hilldrop Crescent,

N5 separating his wife.

He'd done her in lime.

Crippen had come from America.

Humphries was going

to America within hours

of completing his business

with me.

Was Humphries related to Crippen?

Far-fetched as it might seem

to others, it was not impossible.

Crippen was an American. Yes.

And so was Humphries.

Surely it was more than a coincidence

that a man going to America

should be excited by a title

like "Decades of Death"

and have the middle name of one of

the most famous killers of the lot.

No.

No, no, no.

Facts like that are beyond the realm

of coincidence.

- (HUMMING)

- (PHONE RINGING)

Hello? Who's there?

Speak up, I can't hear you.

(TOILET FLUSHES)

Oh, no. Clair's not here just now.

This is Irene.

You want what?

Harvey Humphries. Do you know

of a man called Harvey Humphries?

Think carefully

before you answer, please.

- A man's life may be at stake.

- Oh, I'll have to think about this.

Er, hold on a minute, love. Now...

Can you tell her to call Jack back

regarding Harvey?

Tell her it's

a matter of life and death.

- Life and death?

- Yes. Tell her that exactly.

- Thank you.

- Right. Will do, dear.

Okay, okay. Be rational, be rational.

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