Something New, Pelham Grenville Wodehouse [best historical biographies TXT] 📗
- Author: Pelham Grenville Wodehouse
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Peters Was Offering A Reward. He Couldn't Have Known That Lord
Emsworth Had Not Got The Scarab Quite Properly. He Couldn't Have
Known--He Couldn't Have Known Anything!"
Ashe's Enthusiasm Was A Trifle Damped.
"There's Something In That. But--I Have It! Jones Must Have Known
About The Scarab And Told Him."
"But How Could He Have Known?"
"Yes; There's Something In That, Too. How Could Jones Have
Known?"
"He Couldn't. He Had Gone By The Time Aline Came That Night."
"I Don't Quite Understand. Which Night?"
"It Was The Night Of The Day I First Met You. I Was Wondering For
A Moment Whether He Could By Any Chance Have Overheard Aline
Telling Me About The Scarab And The Reward Mr. Peters Was
Offering For It."
"Overheard! That Word Is Like A Bugle Blast To Me. Nine Out Of
Ten Of Gridley Quayle's Triumphs Were Due To His Having Overheard
Something. I Think We Are Now On The Right Track."
"I Don't. How Could He Have Overheard Us? The Door Was Closed And
He Was In The Street By That Time."
"How Do You Know He Was In The Street? Did You See Him Out?"
"No; But He Went."
"He Might Have Waited On The Stairs--You Remember How Dark They
Are At Number Seven--And Listened."
"Why?"
Ashe Reflected.
"Why? Why? What A Beast Of A Word That Is--The Detective's
Bugbear. I Thought I Had It, Until You Said--Great Scott! I'll
Tell You Why. I See It All. I Have Him With The Goods. His Object
Chapter 11 Pg 180In Coming To See You About The Letters Was Because Freddie Wanted
Them Back Owing To His Approaching Marriage With Miss
Peters--Wasn't It?"
"Yes."
"You Tell Him You Have Destroyed The Letters. He Goes Off. Am I
Right?"
"Yes."
"Before He Is Out Of The House Miss Peters Is Giving Her Name At
The Front Door. Put Yourself In Jones' Place. What Does He Think?
He Is Suspicious. He Thinks There Is Some Game On. He Skips
Upstairs Again, Waits Until Miss Peters Has Gone Into Your Room,
Then Stands Outside And Listens. How About That?"
"I Do Believe You Are Right. He Might Quite Easily Have Done
That."
"He Did Do Exactly That. I Know It As Though I Had Been There; In
Fact, It Is Highly Probable I Was There. You Say All This
Happened On The Night We First Met? I Remember Coming Downstairs
That Night--I Was Going Out To A Vaudeville Show--And Hearing
Voices In Your Room. I Remember It Distinctly. In All Probability
I Nearly Ran Into Jones."
"It Does All Seem To Fit In, Doesn't It?"
"It's A Clear Case. There Isn't A Flaw In It. The Only Question
Is, Can I, On The Evidence, Go To Young Freddie And Choke The
Scarab Out Of Him? On The Whole, I Think I Had Better Take This
Note To Jones, As I Promised Judson, And See Whether I Can't Work
Something Through Him. Yes; That's The Best Plan. I'll Be
Starting At Once."
Perhaps The Greatest Hardship In Being An Invalid Is The Fact
That People Come And See You And Keep Your Spirits Up. The
Honorable Freddie Threepwood Suffered Extremely From This. His
Was Not A Gregarious Nature And It Fatigued His Limited Brain
Powers To Have To Find Conversation For His Numerous Visitors.
All He Wanted Was To Be Left Alone To Read The Adventures Of
Gridley Quayle, And When Tired Of Doing That To Lie On His Back
And Look At The Ceiling And Think Of Nothing.
It Is Your Dynamic Person, Your Energetic World's Worker, Who
Chafes At Being Laid Up With A Sprained Ankle. The Honorable
Freddie Enjoyed It. From Boyhood Up He Had Loved Lying In Bed;
And Now That Fate Had Allowed Him To Do This Without Incurring
Rebuke He Objected To Having His Reveries Broken Up By Officious
Relations.
Chapter 11 Pg 181
He Spent His Rare Intervals Of Solitude In Trying To Decide In
His Mind Which Of His Cousins, Uncles And Aunts Was, All Things
Considered, The Greatest Nuisance. Sometimes He Would Give The
Palm To Colonel Horace Mant, Who Struck The Soldierly Note--"I
Recollect In A Hill Campaign In The Winter Of The Year '93 Giving
My Ankle The Deuce Of A Twist." Anon The More Spiritual Attitude
Of The Bishop Of Godalming Seemed To Annoy Him More Keenly.
Sometimes He Would Head The List With The Name Of His Cousin
Percy--Lord Stockheath--Who Refused To Talk Of Anything Except
His Late Breach-Of-Promise Case And The Effect The Verdict Had
Had On His Old Governor. Freddie Was In No Mood Just Now To Be
Sympathetic With Others On Their Breach-Of-Promise Cases.
As He Lay In Bed Reading On Monday Morning, The Only Flaw In His
Enjoyment Of This Unaccustomed Solitude Was The Thought That
Presently The Door Was Bound To Open And Some Kind Inquirer
Insinuate Himself Into The Room.
His Apprehensions Proved Well Founded. Scarcely Had He Got Well
Into The Details Of An Ingenious Plot On The Part Of A Secret
Society To Eliminate Gridley Quayle By Bribing His Cook--A Bad
Lot--To Sprinkle Chopped-Up Horsehair In His Chicken Fricassee,
When The Door-Knob Turned And Ashe Marson Came In.
Freddie Was Not The Only Person Who Had Found The Influx Of
Visitors Into The Sick Room A Source Of Irritation. The Fact That
The Invalid Seemed Unable To Get A Moment To Himself Had Annoyed
Ashe Considerably. For Some Little Time He Had Hung About The
Passage In Which Freddie's Room Was Situated, Full Of Enterprise,
But Unable To Make A Forward Move Owing To The Throng Of
Sympathizers. What He Had To Say To The Sufferer Could Not Be
Said In The Presence Of A Third Party.
Freddie's Sensation, On Perceiving Him, Was One Of Relief. He Had
Been Half Afraid It Was The Bishop. He Recognized Ashe As The
Valet Chappie Who Had Helped Him To Bed On The Occasion Of His
Accident. It Might Be That He Had Come In A Respectful Way To
Make Inquiries, But He Was Not Likely To Stop Long. He Nodded And
Went On Reading. And Then, Glancing Up, He Perceived Ashe
Standing Beside The Bed, Fixing Him With A Piercing Stare.
The Honorable Freddie Hated Piercing Stares. One Of The Reasons
Why He Objected To Being Left Alone With His Future
Father-In-Law, Mr. J. Preston Peters, Was That Nature Had Given
The Millionaire A Penetrating Pair Of Eyes, And The Stress Of
Business Life In New York Had Developed In Him A Habit Of Boring
Holes In People With Them. A Young Man Had To Have A Stronger
Nerve And A Clearer Conscience Than The Honorable Freddie To
Enjoy A Tete-A-Tete With Mr. Peters.
Though He Accepted Aline's Father As A Necessary Evil And
Recognized That His Position Entitled Him To Look At People As
Sharply As He Liked, Whatever Their Feelings, He Would Be Hanged
Chapter 11 Pg 182If He Was Going To Extend This Privilege To Mr. Peters' Valet.
This Man Standing Beside Him Was Giving Him A Look That Seemed To
His Sensitive Imagination To Have Been Fired Red-Hot From A Gun;
And This Annoyed And Exasperated Freddie.
"What Do You Want?" He Said Querulously. "What Are You Staring At
Me Like That For?"
Ashe Sat Down, Leaned His Elbows On The Bed, And Applied The Look
Again From A Lower Elevation.
"Ah!" He Said.
Whatever May Have Been Ashe's Defects, So Far As The Handling Of
The Inductive-Reasoning Side Of Gridley Quayle's Character Was
Concerned, There Was One Scene In Each Of His Stories In Which He
Never Failed. That Was The Scene In The Last Chapter Where
Quayle, Confronting His Quarry, Unmasked Him. Quayle Might Have
Floundered In The Earlier Part Of The Story, But In His Big Scene
He Was Exactly Right. He Was Curt, Crisp And Mercilessly
Compelling.
Ashe, Rehearsing This Interview In The Passage Before His Entry,
Had Decided That He Could Hardly Do Better Than Model Himself On
The Detective. So He Began To Be Curt, Crisp And Mercilessly
Compelling To Freddie; And After The First Few Sentences He Had
That Youth Gasping For Air.
"I Will Tell You," He Said. "If You Can Spare Me A Few Moments Of
Your Valuable Time I Will Put The Facts Before You. Yes; Press
That Bell If You Wish--And I Will Put Them Before Witnesses. Lord
Emsworth Will No Doubt Be Pleased To Learn That His Son, Whom He
Trusted, Is A Thief!"
Freddie's Hand Fell Limply. The Bell Remained Un-Touched. His
Mouth Opened To Its Fullest Extent. In The Midst Of His Panic He
Had A Curious Feeling That He Had Heard Or Read That Last
Sentence Somewhere Before. Then He Remembered. Those Very Words
Occurred In Gridley Quayle, Investigator--The Adventure Of The
Blue Ruby.
"What--What Do You Mean?" He Stammered.
"I Will Tell You What I Mean. On Saturday Night A Valuable Scarab
Was Stolen From Lord Emsworth's Private Museum. The Case Was Put
Into My Hands----"
"Great Scott! Are You A Detective?"
"Ah!" Said Ashe.
Life, As Many A Worthy Writer Has Pointed Out, Is Full Of
Ironies. It Seemed To Freddie That Here Was A Supreme Example Of
This Fact. All These Years He Had Wanted To Meet A Detective; And
Chapter 11 Pg 183Now That His Wish Had Been Gratified The Detective Was Detecting
Him!
"The Case," Continued Ashe Severely, "Was Placed In My Hands. I
Investigated It. I Discovered That You Were In Urgent And
Immediate Need Of Money."
"How On Earth Did You Do That?"
"Ah!" Said Ashe. "I Further Discovered That You Were In
Communication With An Individual Named Jones."
"Good Lord! How?"
Ashe Smiled Quietly.
"Yesterday I Had A Talk With This Man Jones, Who Is Staying In
Market Blandings. Why Is He Staying In Market Blandings? Because
He Had A Reason For Keeping In Touch With You; Because You Were
About To Transfer To His
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