Read The Jeeves Omnibus Online

Authors: P. G. Wodehouse

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Humour, #Literary, #Fiction, #Classic, #General, #Classics

The Jeeves Omnibus (238 page)

BOOK: The Jeeves Omnibus
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‘No, Jeeves,’ I said. But if you can think of some way by which I can oil privily into the suite and sneak the animal out of it without causing any hard feelings, spill it.’

‘I will endeavour to do so, sir.’

‘Snap into it, then, without delay. They say fish are good for the brain. Have a go at the sardines and come back and report.’

‘Very good, sir.’

It was about ten minutes later that he entered the presence once more.

‘I fancy, sir –’

‘Yes, Jeeves?’

‘I rather fancy, sir, that I have discovered a plan of action.’

‘Or scheme.’

‘Or scheme, sir. A plan of action or scheme which will meet the situation. If I understood you rightly, sir, Mr and Master Blumenfeld have attended a motion-picture performance?’

‘Correct.’

‘In which case, they should not return to the hotel before five-fifteen?’

‘Correct once more. Miss Wickham is scheduled to blow in at five-thirty to sign the contract.’

‘The suite, therefore, is presently unoccupied.’

‘Except for McIntosh.’

‘Except for McIntosh, sir. Everything, accordingly, must depend on whether Mr Blumenfeld left instructions that, in the event of her arriving before he did, Miss Wickham was to be shown straight up to the suite, to await his return.’

‘Why does everything depend on that?’

‘Should he have done so, the matter becomes quite simple. All that is necessary is that Miss Wickham shall present herself at the hotel at five o’clock. She will go up to the suite. You will also have arrived at the hotel at five, sir, and will have made your way to the corridor outside the suite. If Mr and Master Blumenfeld have not returned, Miss Wickham will open the door and come out and you will go in, secure the dog, and take your departure.’

I stared at the man.

‘How many tins of sardines did you eat, Jeeves?’

‘None, sir. I am not fond of sardines.’

‘You mean, you thought of this great, this ripe, this amazing scheme entirely without the impetus given to the brain by fish?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘You stand alone, Jeeves.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘But I say!’

‘Sir?’

‘Suppose the dog won’t come away with me? You know how meagre his intelligence is. By this time, especially when he’s got used to a new place, he may have forgotten me completely and will look on me as a perfect stranger.’

‘I had thought of that, sir. The most judicious move will be for you to sprinkle your trousers with aniseed.’

‘Aniseed?’

‘Yes, sir. It is extensively used in the dog-stealing industry.’

‘But, Jeeves … dash it … aniseed?’

‘I consider it essential, sir.’

‘But where do you get the stuff?’

‘At any chemist’s, sir. If you will go out now and procure a small bottle, I will be telephoning to Miss Wickham to apprise her of the contemplated arrangements and ascertain whether she is to be admitted to the suite.’

I don’t know what the record is for popping out and buying aniseed, but I should think I hold it. The thought of Aunt Agatha getting nearer and nearer to the Metropolis every minute induced a rare burst of speed. I was back at the flat so quick that I nearly met myself coming out.

Jeeves had good news.

‘Everything is perfectly satisfactory, sir. Mr Blumenfeld did leave instructions that Miss Wickham was to be admitted to his suite. The young lady is now on her way to the hotel. By the time you reach it, you will find her there.’

You know, whatever you may say about old Jeeves – and I, for one, have never wavered in my opinion that his views on shirts for evening wear are hidebound and reactionary to a degree – you’ve got to admit that the man can plan a campaign. Napoleon could have taken his correspondence course. When he sketches out a scheme, all you have to do is to follow it in every detail, and there you are.

On the present occasion everything went absolutely according to plan, I had never realized before that dog-stealing could be so simple, having always regarded it rather as something that called for the ice-cool brain and the nerve of steel. I see now that a child can do it, if directed by Jeeves. I got to the hotel, sneaked up the stairs, hung about in the corridor trying to look like a potted palm in case anybody came along, and presently the door of the suite opened and Bobbie appeared, and suddenly, as I approached, out shot McIntosh, sniffing passionately, and the next moment his nose was up against my Spring trouserings, and he was drinking me in with every evidence of enjoyment. If I had been a bird that had been dead about five days, he could not have nuzzled me more heartily. Aniseed isn’t a scent that I care for particularly myself, but it seemed to speak straight to the deeps of McIntosh’s soul.

The connection, as it were, having been established in this manner, the rest was simple. I merely withdrew, followed by the animal in the order named. We passed down the stairs in good shape, self reeking to heaven and animal inhaling the bouquet, and after a few anxious moments were safe in a cab, homeward bound. As smooth a bit of work as London had seen that day.

Arrived at the flat, I handed McIntosh to Jeeves and instructed him to shut him up in the bathroom or somewhere where the spell cast by my trousers would cease to operate. This done, I again paid the man a marked tribute.

‘Jeeves,’ I said, ‘I have had occasion to express the view before, and I now express it again fearlessly – you stand in a class of your own.’

‘Thank you very much, sir. I am glad that everything proceeded satisfactorily.’

‘The festivities went like a breeze from start to finish. Tell me, were you always like this, or did it come on suddenly?’

‘Sir?’

‘The brain. The grey matter. Were you an outstandingly brilliant boy?’

‘My mother thought me intelligent, sir.’

‘You can’t go by that. My mother thought
me
intelligent. Anyway, setting that aside for the moment, would a fiver be any use to you?’

‘Thank you very much, sir.’

‘Not that a fiver begins to cover it. Figure to yourself, Jeeves – try to envisage, if you follow what I mean, the probable behaviour of my Aunt Agatha if I had gone to her between the hours of six and seven and told her that McIntosh had passed out of the picture. I should have had to leave London and grow a beard.’

‘I can readily imagine, sir, that she would have been somewhat perturbed.’

‘She would. And on the occasions when my Aunt Agatha is perturbed heroes dive down drain-pipes to get out of her way. However, as it is, all has ended happily … Oh, great Scott!’

‘Sir?’

I hesitated. It seemed a shame to cast a damper on the man just when he had extended himself so notably in the cause, but it had to be done.

‘You’ve overlooked something, Jeeves.’

‘Surely not, sir?’

‘Yes, Jeeves, I regret to say that the late scheme or plan of action, while gilt-edged as far as I am concerned, has rather landed Miss Wickham in the cart.’

‘In what way, sir?’

‘Why, don’t you see that, if they know that she was in the suite at the time of the outrage, the Blumenfelds, father and son, will instantly assume that she was mixed up in McIntosh’s disappearance, with the result that in their pique and chagrin they will call off the deal about the play? I’m surprised at you not spotting that, Jeeves. You’d have done much better to eat those sardines, as I advised.’

I waggled my head rather sadly, and at this moment there was a ring at the front-door bell. And not an ordinary ring, mind you, but one of those resounding peals that suggest that somebody with a high blood-pressure and a grievance stands without. I leaped in my tracks. My busy afternoon had left the old nervous system not quite in mid-season form.

‘Good Lord, Jeeves!’

‘Somebody at the door, sir.’

‘Yes.’

‘Probably Mr Blumenfeld, senior, sir.’

‘What!’

‘He rang up on the telephone, sir, shortly before you returned, to say that he was about to pay you a call.’

‘You don’t mean that?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Advise me, Jeeves.’

‘I fancy the most judicious procedure would be for you to conceal yourself behind the settee, sir.’

I saw that his advice was good. I have never met this Blumenfeld socially, but I had seen him from afar on the occasion when he and Cyril Bassington-Bassington had had their falling out, and he hadn’t struck me then as a bloke with whom, if in one of his emotional moods, it would be at all agreeable to be shut up in a small room. A large, round, flat, overflowing bird, who might quite easily, if stirred, fall on a fellow and flatten him to the carpet.

So I nestled behind the settee, and in about five seconds there was a sound like a mighty, rushing wind and something extraordinarily substantial bounded into the sitting room.

‘This guy, Wooster,’ bellowed a voice that had been strengthened by a lifetime of ticking actors off at dress-rehearsals from the back of the theatre.

‘Where is he?’

Jeeves continued suave.

‘I could not say, sir.’

‘He’s sneaked my son’s dog.’

‘Indeed, sir?’

‘Walked into my suite as cool as dammit and took the animal away.’

‘Most disturbing, sir.’

‘And you don’t know where he is?’

‘Mr Wooster may be anywhere, sir. He is uncertain in his movements.’

The bloke Blumenfeld gave a loud sniff.

‘Odd smell here!’

‘Yes, sir?’

‘What is it?’

‘Aniseed, sir.’

‘Aniseed?’

‘Yes, sir. Mr Wooster sprinkles it on his trousers.’

‘Sprinkles it on his trousers?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘What on earth does he do that for?’

‘I could not say, sir. Mr Wooster’s motives are always somewhat hard to follow. He is eccentric.’

‘Eccentric? He must be a loony.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘You mean he is?’

‘Yes, sir!’

There was a pause. A long one.

‘Oh?’ said old Blumenfeld, and it seemed to me that a good deal of what you might call the vim had gone out of his voice.

He paused again.

‘Not
dangerous?

‘Yes, sir, when roused.’

‘Er – what rouses him chiefly?’

‘One of Mr Wooster’s peculiarities is that he does not like the sight of gentlemen of full habit, sir. They seem to infuriate him.’

‘You mean, fat men?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Why?’

‘One cannot say, sir.’

There was another pause.


I’m
fat!’ said old Blumenfeld in a rather pensive sort of voice.

‘I would not venture to suggest it myself, sir, but as you say so … You may recollect that, on being informed that you were to be a member of the luncheon party, Mr Wooster, doubting his power of self-control, refused to be present.’

‘That’s right. He went rushing out just as I arrived. I thought it odd at the time. My son thought it odd. We both thought it odd.’

‘Yes, sir. Mr Wooster, I imagine, wished to avoid any possible unpleasantness, such as has occurred before … With regard to the smell of aniseed, sir, I fancy I have now located it. Unless I am mistaken it proceeds from behind the settee. No doubt Mr Wooster is sleeping there.’

‘Doing what?’

‘Sleeping, sir.’

‘Does he often sleep on the floor?’

‘Most afternoons, sir. Would you desire me to wake him?’

‘No!’

‘I thought you had something that you wished to say to Mr Wooster, sir.’

Old Blumenfeld drew a deep breath. ‘So did I,’ he said. ‘But I find I haven’t. Just get me alive out of here, that’s all I ask.’

I heard the door close, and a little while later the front door banged. I crawled out. It hadn’t been any too cosy behind the settee, and I was glad to be elsewhere. Jeeves came trickling back.

‘Gone, Jeeves?’

‘Yes, sir.’

I bestowed an approving look on him.

‘One of your best efforts, Jeeves.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘But what beats me is why he ever came here. What made him think that I had sneaked McIntosh away?’

‘I took the liberty of recommending Miss Wickham to tell Mr Blumenfeld that she had observed you removing the animal from his suite, sir. The point which you raised regarding the possibility of her being suspected of complicity in the affair had not escaped me. It seemed to me that this would establish her solidly in Mr Blumenfeld’s good opinion.’

‘I see. Risky, of course, but possibly justified. Yes, on the whole, justified. What’s that you’ve got there?’

‘A five pound note, sir.’

‘Ah, the one I gave you?’

‘No, sir. The one Mr Blumenfeld gave me.’

‘Eh? Why did he give you a fiver?’

‘He very kindly presented it to me on my handing him the dog, sir.’

I gaped at the man.

‘You don’t mean to say –?’

‘Not McIntosh, sir. McIntosh is at present in my bedroom. This was another animal of the same species which I purchased at the shop in Bond Street during your absence. Except to the eye of love, one Aberdeen terrier looks very much like another Aberdeen terrier, sir. Mr Blumenfeld, I am happy to say, did not detect the innocent subterfuge.’

‘Jeeves,’ I said – and I am not ashamed to confess that there was a spot of chokiness in the voice – ‘there is none like you, none.’

‘Thank you very much, sir.’

‘Owing solely to the fact that your head bulges in unexpected spots, thus enabling you to do about twice as much bright thinking in any given time as any other two men in existence, happiness, you might say, reigns supreme. Aunt Agatha is on velvet, I am on velvet, the Wickhams, mother and daughter, are on velvet, the Blumenfelds, father and son, are on velvet. As far as the eye can reach, a solid mass of humanity, owing to you, all on velvet. A fiver is not sufficient, Jeeves. If I thought the world thought that Bertram Wooster thought a measly five pounds an adequate reward for such services as yours, I should never hold my head up again. Have another?’

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘And one more?’

‘Thank you very much, sir.’

‘And a third for luck?’

‘Really, sir, I am exceedingly obliged. Excuse me, sir, I fancy I heard the telephone.’

BOOK: The Jeeves Omnibus
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