Butlered!
Chapter 12

Copyright© 2016 by Gordon Johnson

There were some blank looks, but one boy suddenly looked scared. I looked at him and said, “Yes, I have trained with the Gurkhas. Their tradition is never to draw your kukri without blooding it before putting it back.

Consider yourselves lucky. Now, gentlemen, I have matters to attend to, so I bid you good day.”

I turned and walked away from them, but listening carefully for the sound of a knife being readied to throw. I heard a hint of that, so I turned swiftly and said, “If you throw a knife, you will get it back, and it will HURT!”

The boy whose jerkin I had heard being swept back for access to his knife, allowed his jerkin to fall closed again, and he let his empty hands show. I nodded slowly to him. “Wise. Just let it be, gentlemen.”

I resumed my walk, keeping my pace slow and measured. This time I was sure that they had decided on discretion, and went on my way. They could now get medical help for Jimmy. It was their problem.

The rest of my walk was uneventful. I got to the shopping precinct, and went directly to the charity shop that had phoned me. I went in, and came up to the counter to announce myself.

“Mr. Jeeves, to collect two CDs.”

The seated assistant looked up at me, and recognised something about me. He reached for a buzzer and pressed it. “Just a moment, sir. You are expected.”

The manager came out of his back office, a package in hand. “Mr. Jeeves?”

I acknowledged my identity. “You should have two Queen CDs for me.”

“I do.” He indicated the package in his hand. “If you will come through to the office, you can check them for condition.”

I agreed, and followed him through, closing the door behind me. At his desk, he laid down the package. “Please check them, Mr. Jeeves.”

I made a show of looking for any damage to the CD surfaces, but this was not my real intent. “You have something else for me?” I asked.

“Yes, sir. I was asked to include this gizmo.” He produced from his pocket a plastic sleeve which contained a data card and handed it over. “The message I was asked to give you was ‘thanks to our friends above’, whatever that means.”

“I understand it, and that is what matters. May I pay you for the two CDs?”

“Oh, yes. That will be two pounds please.”

I handed over a two-pound coin, then put the CDs in my coat pocket, and the little data card in my jacket pocket for safety. We went out together to the counter, and the manager handed his assistant the two pounds.

“Payment for two CDs, Prescott. Can you ring that through and give Mr. Jeeves a receipt?”

“Certainly, sir.”

I accepted the till receipt, politely thanked them both, then added, “Still no camera tripod in stock?”. The manager confirmed that, so I left. I tried the other charity shop in the precinct, but again with no luck.

Apart from a slight shower of light rain that was over in a couple of minutes, the weather remained fine for walking back to the house, and I found myself whistling a jaunty tune.

Entering the house, I reported to Mr. Jones that I was here again, and then went looking for Miss Frobisher. Having been informed that she was in her office, I knocked on the door. She spoke through the door, “Who is it?”

“Jeeves, Miss Frobisher.”

“What do you want, Jeeves?”

“I have something to give you, Miss Frobisher.” It had not occurred to me until now that such words could have a double meaning.

“Oh.” Then, “What sort of thing?”

“CDs, Miss.”

There was a pause, then I heard the door unlock. “O.K., you can come in now.”

I turned the handle and entered. The room was very basic, with a couple of desks and chairs, shelves with files, a computer, monitor, scanner/copier/printer, and a few other things which were probably personal. The monitor was showing a screen saver, which she must have switched on so that I would not see what she was working on. Odd, that she was concerned about what I might see.

“Miss Frobisher, the charity shop informed me they now had a couple more Queen CDs, so I visited and purchased them today. I think you will enjoy listening to them.” I handed them over to her, saying, “Please regard them as a gift from me.”

She looked at the titles, and smiled. “These will do me fine, Jeeves. Many thanks. You are sure you don’t want paying for them?”

I gave her a smile in return. “I regard it as an investment, Miss Frobisher; an investment in your friendship.”

“It is appreciated, Jeeves. Thank you again. I had better get back to my work.”

“As should I, my dear. Farewell.”

As I wandered back downstairs, I wondered, what exactly was her work? I had never been told what her duties were. Mind you, probably she had never been told what exactly MY duties were!

Still, she seemed to spend a lot of time in her office, working on her computer. She did not appear to be working with Dawes on correspondence or similar tasks that normally involve a secretary and her boss. I supposed that he could dictate his letters and hand the recording to her to transcribe.

The trouble with that scenario is that with the advent of word processing software, and email facility, almost all messages are now written and sent directly by the sender, not by a secretary.

I could appreciate her working on a database; that would take considerable time; but a database of what? I was compiling the inventory of valuables in the house, so what could she be working on, and in such secrecy?

Hah! I admonished myself for such thoughts. After all, I was myself working in some secrecy, wasn’t I?

That reminded me of the data card in my jacket pocket. I daren’t get to work on it until I felt I would not be disturbed. That meant quite late at night, after my daily duties were over.

Such considerations sent me back to my pantry to deal with outstanding tasks that had to be completed before the day was out. No matter my Company’s ultimate needs, my client’s requirements were paramount for now.

I was still busy, adding an extra polish to the silver, when the doorbell rang. I tidied myself and went to answer it. Opening the front door slightly, I asked, “Who is calling, please?”, without even looking.

The policeman standing there announced, “The police. Can I come in?”

I opened the door wide and invited the man in. I spotted his sergeant’s stripes, and said, “What can we do for the police, sergeant?”

He looked me over with a practised eye, and said, “I am looking into an affray that happened a few streets away. A witness said the man looked like you, so I came to ascertain the truth, sir.”

“I am Jeeves, sergeant, not Sir. Would this affray be an encounter between five teenagers and a passer-by?”

“FIVE Teenagers?”, he asked, incredulously. “I was simply told that you, or someone resembling you, had attacked a teenager in the street.”

“That is the trouble, sergeant. Getting only part of a story can lead to misunderstandings. I always prefer to avoid confrontations, but when accosted by these teenagers, I advised them to desist and depart. They did not see it my way.”

“Really? Tell me more, Mr ... Jeeves.”

“The ringleader produced a knife, and threatened me with it. I advised him against any action, but he decided to proceed by stabbing me. I stepped back, and he missed. This goaded him into making a slash at me, so I responded be stepping close and hitting him in his Adam’s apple. That stopped him.”

“It certainly did. The hospital said he was nearly killed!”

“Oh, no, sergeant. I did not apply a killing blow. If I had done, he would certainly have been dead.”

“You seem very sure of yourself, Jeeves. A butler taking on five teenage boys?”

“An ex-soldier butler, sergeant. I am trained in self-defence and offence.”

“Ah, that explains it. So what did the other boys do? Usually they gang up and attack as a group.”

“I forestalled that, sergeant. I informed them I was trained and would probably be able to deal with all of them, but I stated that I had to warn them in advance, that if I had to deal with five of them, I would probably have to kill one or two them.”

“You said that?”

“I did. They declined to attack me, and I went on my way to the shops.”

“Wow. I have never met anyone who would dare act like you did. Army training? What regiment, Jeeves?”

I hesitated, and he looked at me in puzzlement. “You don’t want to say?”

“I would prefer not, sergeant. My former colleagues would not approve, so I shall say it was not the SBS.”

“Damn. SAS?” He stared at me. I set my face and did not answer. He went back to thinking, then said, “Is your name really Jeeves?”

I responded, “I work for Jeeves and Company, and all their butlers use the name Jeeves as a professional signature in our work. If you need any ... personal ... information about me, you must ask the Company. They will reassure you of my competence and reliability.”

The sergeant saw where things were going.

“I think, Mr. Jeeves, that I need to go and question the injured lad in some detail. Having your verbal statement available to me, I will be prepared for any devious evidence he offers. I think I shall ask him for the names of his four friends, and mention that the gentleman he and his friends met would be happy to meet him again.

May I come back to speak to you again, si ... Mr. Jeeves?”

“Certainly, sergeant. I presume you have recorded our little talk?”

“I have, s ... Mr. Jeeves. Sorry, I am in the habit of using the word Sir, and it is difficult to stop, Mr. Jeeves.”

“I quite understand, Sergeant. I use the word a lot, myself. I am not offended.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jeeves. I will see myself out.”

“Oh, no, sir. It is part of my duties to see people out of the front door, and to do so for you, it is an honour.”

“Farewell, then.”

“Goodbye, sergeant.” I closed the door behind him.

A voice behind me said, “What was that all about, Jeeves?”

It was Dawes, who had come out of his study, into the reception vestibule. I explained, “A member of the local constabulary, sir, enquiring about an altercation in the street today.”

“An altercation? Were you involved, Jeeves?”

“I was, sir. Five teenage boys wished to impose themselves on me for some financial benefit. I declined the offer.”

He looked at me in astonishment. “You ... declined the offer? In what way, Jeeves?”

“The leader drew a knife and attempted to harm me, sir. I stopped him, and afterwards the other boys decided not to take things further. I believe the young man went to hospital, and at that point the police were called in, I expect by hospital staff. I have simply explained my involvement to the police, and hopefully that will be the end of it, sir.”

“Wait a minute. Let me get this straight. You were accosted by five teenagers demanding money, and you ... you stopped them?”

 
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