“Tell me, Mister Tibbs.” she said, “How many mice did you catch in the last seven days?”
“None.” said Tibbs.
“So they all eluded you?” she smiled and Tibbs actually made a noise that sounded a little like laughter, that is If a metal cat could be said to be able to laugh in the first place.
“Of course not mistress.” said Tibbs, “I have simply been so efficient the mouse population has dropped to zero since the purge I began some time ago.
“Very efficient.” said Victoria, “Yet we have a new enemy, Mister Tibbs.” she smiled, “Slugs.”
“Deroceras reticulatum.” said Tibbs, “Very fond of cabbages and Brassica’s in general I suspect. Which explains the leaf in Mister Rollins’ hand.”
“Indeed.” she said, “Now I am not for a moment suggesting that you take your eye off the ball mouse-wise so to speak Mister Tibbs, but perhaps you could put some of your considerable talents to use with regards to these slugs?”
“Excellent idea.” said Tibbs, “I shall commence immediately.”
The cat leapt up onto the small wall that bordered the path and its twin lasers swivelled, a bright red beam shooting across the cabbage patch, destroying everything in its wake. Six large cabbages flew into the air in pieces like a fall of brassica confetti.
“Brogul. Broxburn!” shouted Rollins and Victoria leaned down to the robot cat.
“We do however require you to leave the plants intact, Mister Tibbs.”
“I see.” said the silver cat, “Excellent. Making it more difficult.” There was another flash of red light and this time no plants were damaged, but a small black greasy pall of smoke from amongst the cabbage leaves seemed to confirm that Mister Tibbs was on the case.
“That should keep him busy for a while.” laughed Romney.
“Oh I doubt it.” she smiled, “I doubt it will slow him down at all.”
From the back of the house Viktor suddenly appeared carrying what appeared to be a bucket of soil and he walked across to the ditch and emptied it, walking back to the garden. He gave a cheery wave to her as he went back into the house.
“What on Earth is he doing in the cellar?” asked Romney. “He’s been banging around in there all week.”
“I suspect he is making his coff… erm… sleeping quarters a little more comfortable. You know how he likes things to be just so.”
“I’ll say.” said Romney, “He rearranged the plate cupboard four times last week. He still can’t find the fish bone plates.”
“We have plates for fish bones?” she asked,
“Yes. Tiny little ones.”
“I see.” she began to walk back towards the house, “Perhaps that is why he cannot find them.”
She looked up at the bedroom windows just in time to see Fanelda float past the window, singing brightly as she tidied the rooms. She waved too and Victoria waved back.
“Good job she’s a poltergeist.” She said. “Or I would have to have two maids.”
“She’s a nice girl, true enough.” said Romney and Victoria smiled widely.
“Really?” she said, “What exactly did you get up to on your day of then? Viktor won’t tell me very much at all and you are staying resolutely silent on the matter.”
“Nothing.” he said, failing to quash her curiosity completely. She smiled even wider but said nothing and began to cross the lawn.
“Well whatever it was it all ended up with the steam wagon in the ditch. Must have been a really good day out.”
“I’ll move it, I’ll move it.” said Romney irritably just as a small two seater steam wagon pulled into the drive and carried along the side of the house before coming to a halt just before the garages. The engine shut down, the boiler hissing loudly as the car came to a complete stop. The door opened and out strode Inspector Vaillant, his trousers strangely mud stained and soggy. He winced a little as he eased himself out of the vehicle.
“Victoria!” he called across the lawn, smiling as she made her way towards him.
“Here’s lover boy.” said Romney in her head and Victoria hissed back.
“He is not my lover boy.” she said and Romney chuckled loudly.
“Inspector.” she said, holding out her hand to shake his, surprised when he took her hand in his and kissed the back of it instead. She was somewhat disappointed to find herself blushing furiously. “To what do we owe the pleasure? You do seem rather dishevelled, if you do not mind me saying so.”
“Not at all.” he laughed, “I have been leading a digging crew up on Horsell Common. The coordinates you gave me from Topping’s relay device, remember?”
“Of course.” she said, “Shall we take some tea? I can get Viktor to set up a small table on the lawn here if you wish?”
“That would be delightful.” he said and so she left him to try and get some sense out of the gardener whilst she told Viktor to stop digging and for him and Mister Boot to prepare to serve tea on the lawn. It did not take the two of them long to get it all set out, especially as Mister Boot carried the table in one hand and two chairs in the other.
“Thank you Vikktor and Mister Boot.” she said, sitting down on the chair and making herself comfortable. Vaillant did the same. “No need to pour, Viktor.” she said, “I will do that. I know you are both keen to continue with your digging.” Viktor smiled and he and Mister Boot were soon back in the house, the sound of banging coming from that direction soon after.
“My. He’s a large chap.” said Vaillant, “New man?”
“Well I am not entirely sure what he is.” said Victoria, pouring the tea, “But his job is manservant, and he is new, yes. Nice chap though. Fine singing voice.”
“I see.” he said, staring back towards the house as if trying to think of what to say next.
“So what did you find on Horsell Common?” she asked excitedly, “Do tell! Is it one sugar or two?”
“Two.” he said, and she placed the cubes in the tea and passed him the cup. “Sadly I have to disappoint you, my dear.” he said, “We found absolutely nothing. Hence the condition of my clothing, for which I sincerely apologise. I am afraid I look something of a mess.”
“Oh there is no need.” she said, waving her hand to dismiss his apologies.
“We dug to a fearsome depth and quite a radius. The government sent inspectors to oversee and they seemed to want to go deeper and wider all of the time. Yet we found nothing, and all we accomplished was to dig a ruddy great big hole in the ground, which even now the remainder of my men are continuing to fill back in.”
“Strange.” said Victoria, “The coordinates on the transmitter were quite specific. I must admit to being rather baffled!”
“Well perhaps we will never know.” said Vaillant, sipping his tea and visibly relaxing in the warm summer sun. “Still. It is not like you to be baffled, is it Victoria?”
“What do you mean?” she smiled as the Inspector seemed to become even more animated.
“Well. It all started with those so called fairies over at Denwick Beauchamp. Then the poor Harrington family and the ruin of Harrington Hall. There have been many other cases too. You are quite a celebrity back at the station now, you know. The case of the black handkerchief had many of the so called policemen completely stumped, yet you solved it without batting an eyelid.”
“No fingerprints.” she smiled, “It was so obvious.”
“The cursed Maharajah.” he said. That had my head spinning, not to forget the case of the lost emerald of the Silent Hand.”
“Luck really.” she said, “He wasn’t aware I had infra-red vision or we would all still be scratching our heads.”
“I can think of several others.” said the Inspector, “Your reputation with the force is now firmly entrenched. They look up to you for inspiration.”
“Really?” she said, the tea beginning to taste sour in her mouth, “I thought that perhaps my footsteps were somewhat lighter than that.”
“Not at all.” said Vaillant, “You are
very much a cause celebre’ with the force I am glad to say.”
“Oh dear.” she said quietly, but somehow still managed to smile.
“I told you we had to work hard not be noticed.” said Romney in her mind, “Police tittle tattle just like other people do, boss. Perhaps more so.”
“I suspect that I may need to take a small holiday.” she said in her mind but Romney did not reply at all.
“Are you alright, Victoria?” asked Vaillant, concern showing on his face. “You have become very quiet all of a sudden.”
“Just a slight headache.” she lied. “I am sure it will soon pass.”
“Well perhaps if you lie down for a while?” he said and she smiled at his concern. She looked across the garden to the vegetable patch, numerous plumes of black smoke rising into the air before vanishing as the slug population began to dwindle. Harry Rollins stood to one side, looking on cautiously, his face a strange mixture of both wonder and absolute blind panic.
“I am perfectly fine, Inspector.” Said Victoria.
“Oh I do hope so.” he said, starting to fidget a little.
“Here we go.” said Romney in her mind, but Victoria did not answer him as the Inspector continued.
“Only I was wondering, Victoria. There is a delightful new brasserie in the village. I have heard many good reports about it”
“How wonderful.” she said, “I hope they make a success of it. It is hard work running a kitchen I suspect.”
“Yes.” he said, his fidgeting increasing and his face now flushing a shade of livid red, “Only I was wondering if you would grant me the pleasure of your company for dinner there? Say the day after tomorrow.” Victoria looked at him and smiled. “If you have no other plans of course. I was thinking of eight o’clock.”
“I would be delighted.” she said and she resisted a giggle as the Inspector looked suddenly to be greatly surprised.
“Really?” he said.
“Of course.” she said, “I am looking forward to it already.”
“Well.” said the Inspector. “Yes. Well. I will collect you at seven forty-five precisely. I shall bring my steam wagon.”
“That’s good.” she said, “Mine appears to be in a ditch.”
“Yes.” said Vaillant, “I did notice. If I…”
“No matter.” said Victoria. “Mister Boot will resolve it shortly. Just a slight accident.”
“I see.” said Vaillant, standing. “Well I will see you then, Victoria. I have a lot to do this evening. Reporting back to the city about this damned digging and so forth. Heaven knows why. Their inspectors seemed to be making very careful notes of everything that we did.”
“I shall see you the day after tomorrow Inspector.” she said, and Vaillant more or less skipped back to his steam wagon before shortly after roaring down the small drive and disappearing with a cheery wave.
“Oh my.” said Romney. “A date? What a turn up for the books that is!”
“Oh do be quiet.” she said, smiling despite herself, “The Inspector is a perfectly nice man. Quite dashing too.”
“Dashing?”
“Yes.”
“Well it looks like the only one dashing off on a little night out is you.”
“Indeed.” she said, “Which leaves me with just one little problem.”
“What’s that then, boss?”
“What on Earth I am going to do with you when I go out for dinner?”
***
Victoria put the piece of toast back on the plate untouched. She had risen early to catch Harry Rollins and request a slug report off him but he had yet to appear. Mister Tibbs had been firmly ensconced in the vegetable patch though, lasers swivelling and firing almost constantly.
“How are you getting on, Mister Tibbs?” she had enquired.
“Rather well.’ said the robot cat enthusiastically, “Yet even more appear all the time. Never seen anything like it.”
“Well as long as you are enjoying yourself.” she said as another slug went up in a puff of smoke, “That is all that counts, really.”
“Oh I am having a marvellous time.” said the metal cat and so she left him to it.
“I am somewhat disturbed at the result of the conversation that I had with the Inspector the other afternoon, Romney.” she said.
“What? You don’t want to go on the date tomorrow night now? You had better tell him. He will be right cheesed off boss. Seems a bit keen if you ask me.”
“Not that.” she said testily, “I am quite looking forward to that. With the exception of one small problem.”
“What’s that then?”
“You.” she said.
There was a momentary silence and the Romney began to laugh quietly.
“Tell me. When you become corporeal, does that mean that you are not in my mind as well?”
“Of course.” he said. “I may be a demon of the third circle of hell but it doesn’t mean I can be in two places at the same time.”
“Really?” she asked, sounding relieved.
“Of course. Stands to reason doesn't it, boss?”
“Excellent.” she said. “Well when I go out for dinner with the Inspector I want you to become corporal and stay here so I can have some privacy.”
“And what do you want me to do when you are out gallivanting then?” he said, laughing.
“I don’t know.” she said, “What would you be doing normally?”
“This and that.” said Romney cagily, “Demon stuff.”
“Well you can do your “demon stuff” from the comfort of my armchair.” She said, and picked up her piece of toast and examining it before placing it back down on the plate untouched. “The conversation I was referring to was with regards to the fact that I seem to have a much higher profile that I was aware of.”
“We did say when we came here that it was imperative you did not come to the attention of either of the authorities.” said Romney cautiously.
“Meaning the police but in particular the government.” she said. “The inspectors that Vaillant was talking about at the dig on Horsell common concern me. It would appear my work reaches their ears again.”
“Perhaps it is time to move?” said Romney and she frowned.
“Never.” she said, “I love it here. I will not run away. Not ever.”
“Then perhaps we need to refuse any new cases for a while.” he said, “Keep a very low profile.”
“I think so.” she said wearily. “It is more than likely for the best.”
She ignored breakfast for a while and eventually Viktor arrived to take the trays away.
“Vos ze toast burnt?” he enquired, “If so I will beat Mister Boot personally.”
“No.” said Victoria, ‘I am just not hungry today.” She watched as Viktor moved to the door.
“Did Mister Boot make the toast?” she asked, doubt in her voice.
“Of course not.” said Viktor, “But it is the job of ze manservant to be beaten even if it is not his fault.” He looked down at the tray and then opened the door. “Of course, ze beating in Mister Boot’s case is entirely metaphorical.”
“I thought so.” she said and Viktor nodded, stepping through the door.
“Quite so.” he said from the hall and Victoria rose and stood by the window, looking out across the lawn and the vegetable garden beyond, grey plumes of smoke still rising from that direction. It appeared that Mister Tibbs had more than his work cut out for him.
“Did you find out what they are up to in the cellar?” asked Romney and Victoria forced herself back from a daydream.
“Sorry.” she said, “I was thinking about keeping a low profile. I will find it difficult to do so.”
“I know.” said Romney, “But it is necessary really. I have no idea what all of that stuff was with Topping. The broken glasses, the way his body changed until he more or less exploded. The transmitter that used the diamonds he stole. The coordinates. It certainly has caught the attention of the authorities. We need to step out
of the spotlight and lie low for quite some time, boss.”
“I know.” she said quietly. “You are right of course. I have been stupid, and must now pay the price. Perhaps I shall take up gardening.”
“I am sure Harry would entirely approve.” he said.
“Let’s go and see what they are doing in the cellar.” she said and Romney laughed as they made their way through the hall and down the stairs. As she got just over half way down the steps however she noticed a distinct change of temperature that had not been there before. It was a cellar after all normally quite cold, but not usually as cold as this.
“Is that mist at the bottom of the stairs?” she asked and Romney paused before he answered.
‘It is.” he said, “But it’s some sort of artificial mist. You want a breakdown of its composition?”
“Artificial mist?” she said, frowning, “Artificial mist. In my cellar? Viktor!”
There was a slight pause and then Viktor appeared at the foot of the steps, mist rolling him dramatically.
“Vot now?” he said testily as Mister Boot lumbered into view just behind him.
“Never mind not now.” said Victoria, desperately trying not to manage to replicate his accent,
“Artificial mist. In my cellar. The same cellar that I keep all of my electronic maintenance equipment in.”
“Urgh.” said Mister Boot, potentially implying the thought that there was an element of, “I told you so” in his voice.
“Oh don’t carry on so.” said Viktor, “I vill get rid of it. I just thought it made the room look homelier.”
“Well it doesn’t.” she said. “Please make sure it is disposed of straight away.”
“Very vell.” said Viktor despondently. “Come Mister Boot, Grab ze bucket and follow me up ze stairs.”
“Urgh.” said Mister Boot and they both disappeared up the steps, carrying buckets of whatever chemical concoction was making the mist in each hand, long swirling trails of fog flowing through the air and up into the hall above.
“I am sure it will clear soon.” she coughed, “Really. It is like running a nursery.” Romney laughed at this as she walked across to her maintenance cradle and examined the read-outs on the side.
“It is okay?” she asked.
The Complete Adventures of Victoria Neaves & Romney Page 32
