BENBOW—SUPERINTENDENT—?” Sir Frederick acknowledged the unlikely deputation neutrally. “Sir!” Cox halted two yards from the desk, noted the presence of Macready and Richardson with two photographic blinks of the eye, and stood at ease with the calm resignation of a veteran bearer of evil tidings. Benbow murmured something unintelligible and came to a stop alongside him. Then, almost as an afterthought, he took two more nervous steps forward, deposited a grey file on the edge of the desk and retreated again. “Thank you, Mr. Benbow,” Sir Frederick nodded graciously. “Is there something I can do for you?” “I asked Mr. Benbow to come here with me, sir,” said Cox calmly. “I think we may have an emergency on our hands.” “You think?” “I think.” Cox looked at Sir Frederick steadily. “The Librarian didn’t report for work this morning.”
