Chapter 6

The ring back call arrived the next day. Miss Frobisher rang me to say that there was a call for me, from my company.

“Thank you, Miss Frobisher. I shall take it now.”

I answered, “Jeeves here. Can I help you?”

“This is Jeeves and Company. In response to your earlier request, we have been able to engage the services of a valuer who will accede to the restrictive conditions required for this task. He asks for an extra ten per cent on top of his usual fee for such a service. We assume Mr. Dawes will accept this reasonable request.”

“I would expect so, but I shall clear it with him and arrange a date for the visit. Has the valuer any dates that would be inconvenient?”

“He says he has nothing that cannot be put off. He understands this valuation may take up to a full day of his time.”

“Thank you for your efforts. I shall inform you of the next step, A.S.A.P.”

“Very well. Goodbye, Jeeves.”

I sought out Dawes at the earliest opportunity, which happened after lunch was finished. “Sir, if I may have a word?”

“Is it important, Jeeves? I have something to deal with.”

“It is, sir. My company have engaged a specialist valuer willing to be blindfolded until inside the residence. He asks for a ten per cent extra on his fee, in return. Is that acceptable?”

“I can understand his anxiety and desire to be paid extra. I agree. Was there anything else?”

“Apart from a date for his arrival, I would request that all curtains of exterior windows be closed while he is here. That way he can get no clue as to his whereabouts from looking outside.”

“Hey, that’s neat, Jeeves. I approve of your thoughtfulness. That can be done. As to the date, can you fix it for a Thursday, preferably next week? I am usually less occupied on Thursdays, so it will be less of an inconvenience. I want you to go around with him to observe his work. I shall remain in the background unless required for a decision.”

“I understand, sir. I shall try to make that arrangement. I have no other questions, sir, except that we still have to decide on a photographer.”

“Great. Now maybe I can get on with my own work for a while?”

“Of course, sir.”

I stepped back, gave a brief bow, and retired from his presence.

I phoned the company and set out Dawes’s preference. They said they would try to match it, and get back to me.

I returned to my duties, and got on with setting up my database for the paintings and other items of value. This time, I remembered to include jewellery in the listings.

For a first run through, I went round the house with a notepad, and made a list of all the items, with a brief description of each, just for identity purposes. I then had the trouble of inputting all the data over the next couple of days, and going on with the next part of the house, until I had a list for the entire house, except for the private rooms.

That was my next target.

“Mr. Dawes, I have nearly completed my listing of the items to be valued, but it occurs to me that there are private rooms where I am not authorised to enter for this purpose. Might we do so together, for your peace of mind? We should also list jewellery in the database for valuing when the gentleman arrives.”

Dawes was put into a quandary, but saw the way things had to go.

“Very well, Jeeves. We shall enter each room together, and you can list the artworks and jewellery that we locate there. Once listed, I think I will arrange for these items to be brought out to the valuer on the day.”

“A wise plan, sir, if I may say so.”

“Right, Jeeves. Let us do this list of the private quarters tomorrow morning after breakfast.”

The morning visit to the private quarters was a bit of a let-down, in that there was nothing particularly remarkable about the rooms, except their large dimensions. The master bedroom was male on one side, female on the other, where husband and wife had marked their territory.

The wife had a fancy dressing table with three mirrors, and special lighting round it, reminding me of the accepted fashion for a star dressing room. Thinking of an opposite, I asked Dawes, “Sir, do you have any antique furniture that should be valued?”

He grunted, “No.”, and nothing more was said on the subject. There was a floor safe in each room, for which Dawes had the combination, and as he lifted out each piece of jewellery, I gave it a description based on what it appeared to be. Dawes made corrections where he was sure of the stones involved, otherwise it was a case of “large blue stone surrounded by small clear stones”.

A few could be clearly identified, such as opals, onyx, or other easy recognised stones. Gold or silver was noted by me as “gold-coloured”, etc., except where Dawes insisted it was gold. I pretended to know nothing about jewellery valuation, which was not very much exaggerated!

Miss Frobisher’s room was a revelation. It was very fluffy and colourfully feminine in character, unlike the persona she presented on duty. She even had a teddy bear on her bed. I should have to look at her with different eyes in future.

Catherine’s room was very teenage, with a few posters of pop groups, but there was also a star chart, and an expensive-looking telescope aligned through the upper part of her window. This fitted with a teenage social viewpoint combined with a mathematical and scientific bent.

Yes, the rooms had few signs of a genuine reason for being restricted entry. It suggested that Dawes felt insecure in his own home, and so was attempting to impose control over his nearest assets: his family and their rooms. Interesting that Miss Frobisher fell within this remit. It might very well be that she has access to privileged information and so required similar protected accommodation.

Mrs Dawes, being the haughty type, looking down on the staff as mere menials, had never revealed her first name, and that suited me fine. I would have felt uncomfortable using her first name. I had no wish to be that familiar with the woman. Arm’s length suited me fine.

Miss Frobisher must have decided she wanted to visit the shops of our local suburb, for Dawes summoned me and announced, “Jeeves, I want you to chauffeur Miss Frobisher to the shops. Wait until she has completed her shopping, and bring her back. And Jeeves,” he looked me in the eyes, “Keep a close eye on things while you are out. Report any unusual occurrence you observe.”

I raised my eyebrows a little at that instruction, but only said, “Very good, sir.” It gave me cause to wonder if he suspected she was spying on him and was looking for a way to report back to whoever she was working for. It was unlikely to be the authorities, for my presence was that example. Could a fellow criminal be eyeing him up for something?

I did as I had been directed. Miss Frobisher visited a couple of clothes shops, coming away with some expensive-looking parcels. There was no approach by anyone at all, so if she had a contact, it had to be in one of those shops. I could not determine which, so there was nothing adverse that I could report to Mr. Dawes.

“I am sorry to report, sir, that there was no evidence of any collusion with other persons. Of course, I did not enter the shops with the lady, so my observations must perforce be incomplete.”

He glanced at me with a slightly malevolent grin. “I take it by that, you mean you saw nothing that would concern you?”

“You have it in a nutshell, sir.”

At least that episode gained me favour with Dawes. He saw me as more than a butler, now. He regarded me almost as a confidant, surprisingly. I regarded this as an unexpected bonus for my company, but did nothing to jeopardise that exalted position.

By arrangement, the Company brought the valuer in a blacked-out Rolls, and when he was escorted out of the car, he was wearing a mask covering his entire head down to his nose, a la Batman costume. Mr. Jeeves, his escort, brought him to the door, saying, “This is the valuer. You can speak to him as “Mr Valuer”; nothing more, and he will not expect names from you either. Ring us when his work is done, and we will collect him. Goodbye.”

Dawes had kept out of sight, just in case, and now sidled up to me.

“This is him?”

“Indeed, sir. He requires his eyesight to view the items, so if I may be so bold as to suggest that I act as his sole escort within the building?”

Dawes nodded, gave me a ‘thumbs-up’, and departed. I spoke to the valuer.

“Mister valuer, you may remove your blindfold now.”

He did so, and spent a few minutes blinking until he had his full eyesight back.

“I am ready now,” he announced. “What do I call you?”

“You may refer to me as ‘Mister butler’, for that is my profession.”

“Okay. Now where is the first item?”

I referred to my printout from the database. “We shall look at the items in the order I have them listed here. You can do your assessment and give me your description and valuation of each item. I shall write that data down. Are you agreeable to that?”

“I am. Sounds sensible.”

“Number one. Wall-mounted painting, five feet by three and a half feet, depicting the Madonna and Child.”

“I see it, but I need to get up close and use my magnifying-glass.”

He examined it. “A common subject; well painted, in the style of Hans Holbein the Younger. Probably by one of his followers, as this is not the original Solothurn Madonna.” He paused, then, “Conservative value: £9,000.”

“Really?” I was surprised at the high figure.

“Yes. The world-wide art market continues to boom, as an investment vehicle, and a hedge against inflation, you see.”

“I have made a note of that. Number two...” We went round the ground floor, spending considerable time in the corridor, where many of the paintings were hung to be away from sunlight. We broke for lunch, which we had in the kitchen while chef dealt with the family’s meal.