by Ben Hammott
The old man dismissed the thought with a wave of his hand. "Just serve the dinner. I'm famished."
"Of course, Sir." Butler wheeled his master to one end of the table where a place setting had been laid out and bade Furtive, whose eyes were busy casting an appreciative eye over the silver cutlery and serving platters, to sit at the opposite end.
"No, no! Butler, that won't do," groaned Ebenezer. "He's so far away I can barely see the man and we'd have to shout to hear one another. Seat him next to me."
"But, Sir, you don't..."
"No buts, just do as you're told or you're fired."
"Again, Sir, we are nearing four figures now."
Ebenezer glared at him.
"Furtive, please move nearer to Mr. Drooge and I'll reset your place... No! On second thoughts, let me set your place before you move."
Furtive shrugged. "I'm easy any way you want to do it."
Butler quickly laid a place setting beside his master and withdrew to a safe distance. "All ready for you now, Furtive."
While Furtive moved along the long table, Butler disappeared to fetch the food he had prepared earlier. After a few trips, lamb stew, potatoes and vegetables were placed on the table. Standing at the opposite side of the table to Furtive, Butler dished out the food onto plates, placed one in front of Ebenezer and slid the other across the table to Furtive.
Furtive placed his face in the steam rising from the hot meal. "I believe that is the finest smell I have ever drawn up me nostrils. You cook it, did yer, Butler?"
Butler nodded. "Yes, Ebenezer sacked the cook, along with the rest of the staff, many years ago."
Ebenezer snorted. "Too damn right I did. It was a waste of money. Why employ five people to do a job one can do just as well?"
Furtive smiled. "That's very shrewd, one wage instead of five, even I knows that makes good sense." He noticed no place setting set for Butler. "You not eating, Butler?"
"I eat in the kitchen. Staff do not eat with their employer."
"Bah! I told him there's no need for it, all this namby-pamby butler school etiquette and he can eat with me, but he won't hear of it." Ebenezer twitched his nose and then leaned forward to sniff his dinner. "Are you sure this meat is okay, Butler? It smells a bit rank."
"If the meat was any fresher, Sir, it would be running around the table."
"Bah! It must be your seasoning then."
"Yes, Sir, if you say so."
Furtive stuffed his mouth with a large forkful, chewed and swallowed. "Well, it tastes mighty delicious to me. Probably the best food I 'ave ever had the pleasure to stuff in me gob. You be a right good cook, Butler."
Butler gave Furtive a slight nod of thanks and turned to face his employer. "If you are confused by what Furtive so eloquently stated, Sir, it was a compliment."
"Bah" No profit in going round complimenting everyone. It's your job. You should be good at it."
"Not really it isn't, Sir, it was the cook's. I'm a butler, I butle."
Bored with the conversation, Ebenezer turned to Furtive."So, Furtive, how long have you been in the burglary profession?"
Furtive paused, the heavily laden fork halfway to his mouth, while he contemplated the question. "About thirty years now I suppose. I started when I was about six."
"Six!" exclaimed an astonished Ebenezer.
"Yeah, I know, I started late, but it was a family business and there were a lot of us, so I had to wait fer an opening. It came along when me cousin got caught robbing a magistrate's house. Unfortunately for me cousin, but obviously lucky for me, he stood before the same magistrate he tried to rob. Got a hanging sentence he did." He stuffed so much food into his mouth it bulged his cheeks.
"You come from a long line of burglars, then?" Butler asked.
Food sprayed from Furtive's mouth when he answered. "Sure do, my pappy, his pappy, and his pappy's pappy and so on till I don't know when. My great-grand pappy often joked there was one of our line hanging on the cross next to Jesus, we go that far back."
"An impressive pedigree," stated Ebenezer, watching his guest grab a potato in a grubby claw and stuff the whole thing in his mouth.
With crushed potato oozing from his lips, Furtive turned to Ebenezer. "You wanna know a secret?" Though a tongue of an indescribable colour flicked out to scoop up the fleeing potato, it failed to catch the dribble of gravy oozing down the man's chin.
Ebenezer, too appalled by the man's table manners to speak, nodded his assent and leaned closer to the man.
"I wouldn't do that..."
Butler's warning was hushed by a frantic wave of his employer's frail hand; Ebenezer was not the sort to be able to resist the unveiling of a secret.
Butler smiled when Furtive leant nearer to Ebenezer. Fun was in such short supply nowadays.
"It concerns my great uncle, Percy Pickles..."
Ebenezer's features formed a strange mystified expression. His face flushed green and he gagged. With his curiosity to learn the secret totally forgotten, he shot back with such force the creaking chair shot back a foot. His expression was of someone who had just faced hell and wasn't sure they were going to survive the experience. His glazed, horrified expression turned to look at his guest in abject horror.
Furtive, apparently unaware or unconcerned by what had just happened, continued shoving food into his disgusting mouth.
"My god man, what vile hell-spawned breath you have. It's fouler than your table manners, something I thought impossible a moment ago. I am sorely tempted to cut off my nose so I can never smell its foulness again."
Furtive shrugged. "What can I say, there's nothink I can do about it."
"Nothing you can do! Have you tried cleaning your teeth?"
"Yeah, I tried it once, but it came back."
"Once! You have to clean them every day."
Furtive snorted in disbelief. "Every day? Who does that?"
"Nearly everyone except you, I would expect," said Butler, who relocated his master to the other side of the table. "Are you still eating, Sir?"
"No I am damn well not. I doubt I'll ever eat again. My mouth feels like it's been used as a curry house toilet. I tell you Butler, if there was acid handy I'd rinse my mouth with it to be free of the putrid taste."
"I know, Sir, I have previously experienced Furtive's corpselike breath."
"And you didn't think to warn me?"
"I did try, Sir."
"Not very damn hard you didn't."
Furtive pushed his plate away. "I couldn't eat another thing. I'm fit to burst."
A look of horror appeared on Ebenezer's face. "God forbid such a thing will ever occur in my presence," he shivered with revulsion at the thought. "For your breath to stink like it does, your insides must be a long way past rotten."
"Okay, I get it. Me breath's not as fresh as it could be. Live with it and let's move on. I thought we had business to discuss?"
"I'm not sure I want to go into business with you now," said Ebenezer adamantly.
Furtive jumped to his feet. "If that's the case, hand over me 'undred pounds and I'll be on me merry way."
"Let's not all be so hasty," said Butler in an attempt to bring order to the room.
"Furtive, I am sure you can understand that your... affliction, is a bit of a shock when encountered, especially when the receiver has not been forewarned of its potency and so able to protect themselves against it as best they can."
Furtive resumed his seat. "Aye, I can understand that right enough."
Butler turned to his employer. "Sir, we have been searching for someone with Furtive's burglary talents for some time now, if you refuse to work with him it would mean starting again. Something which, at your age, I am sure you loathe to do."
Ebenezer nodded his agreement. "So, what do you suggest?"
"I suggest, Sir, we inform Furtive of the reason we have sought out a man of his talents and see if he is agreeable to our terms and would be willing to participate in our quest."
"Okay, Butl
er, you tell him."
Butler turned to Furtive. "As you may have already guessed, breaking into this house tonight was a test to discover if you were the right man for the job."
"Yeah, I guessed that part right enough."
"From what we have discussed you are also aware you passed the test and we want you to join us in a scheme where your talents will be in great demand."
"Okay. What's this plan of yours? Yer obviously want something pinched from somewhere and I'm guessing it ain't that easy ter get into."
"Correct, it's not easy at all. Ebenezer's grandfather amassed a large fortune and due to the miser streak that runs through the family line, he wasn't about to trust any bank with his hard earned wealth. What he did instead was to hide it. Unfortunately, he was kicked in the head by a horse and died instantly, taking the location of his treasure to the grave with him."
"The only clues to its whereabouts," said Ebenezer, taking over the telling, "was in two paintings." His hand indicated a painting of average size hanging above the fireplace. "One like that; the other is in possession of another."
"So, it's a painting yer want me ter steal?"
Ebenezer nodded. "Exactly! Only when I am in possession of the two will I be able to work out the clues to the treasure's location."
"Who owns the other one?"
"That would be my brother, Sebastian Drooge."
"Okay. But if this treasure is so vast, why don't you and Sebastian work together ter find it and split it down the middle."
"Bah! Because he refuses to even entertain such a notion."
"You see, Ebenezer's brother is even more of a miser than he is, something which even I find hard to believe, but it's true," Butler explained. "They were never the best of friends, but now they have become sworn enemies. Getting one over on the other has become almost as important as finding the inheritance. Sebastian has tried to steal Ebenezer's painting many times and vice-versa, without success and even if he does, the painting you see hanging here is a copy with certain details left out and others added. The original is safely hidden."
"We suspect my brother has done the same as a precaution against me stealing his," added Ebenezer.
"I assume his original is also hidden in a secure place," said Furtive.
"It is," said Butler. "However, we believe we know the room it's hidden in is deep below the castle, but not where in that room it is, which is why we need someone of your talents to find it. We found this out when I tracked down a staff member Sebastian sacked when he suspected the man of stealing some silver," he pointed at Furtive, "similar I suppose to the knife and fork I suspect are concealed within the secret pocket of your coat."
Furtive unashamedly fished the cutlery from the concealed pocket and placed them on the table. "I'm a thief, stealing is what I do."
"I assure you if you agree to help us and are successful in that endeavor, there will be no need for you to ever turn to petty thievery again, because you will be a rich man."
Furtive looked at Ebenezer. "What, more than the 'undred pounds I'm already owed?"
Ebenezer nodded. "Much more. One hundred times more to be exact."
For a few moments Furtive's brain whirred to calculate the sum; it was painful to watch. "One thousand pounds!"
Butler started to correct the man's mistake. "No..."
Ebenezer held a hand up to silence Butler. "Don't interrupt when I'm talking business." With a miserly grin upon his lips he turned to face the man whose mathematical proficiency was at the exact level he liked when negotiating terms. "Yes, Furtive, a whopping one thousand pounds."
"Wow! I don't rightly know what to say. I don't suppose there ain't much you can't buy with that amount of money."
Butler sighed.
"So you're in? You accept the job and the terms laid out before you?"
"If it includes the 'undred I've already been promised, then, yes, Ebenezer, I accept the job and the terms. I'd be a bloody fool not ter, wouldn't I?"
Butler sighed.
Ebenezer rubbed his hands together in a satisfied greedy fashion only a miser can perfect. "I'd shake your hand to seal the deal, but however far I managed to stretch my old limb it would still be too close to that cesspit mouth of yours. I would rather be sealed in an airtight room with a dozen aggressive skunks than risk getting a whiff of that unholy stench again. No offense intended of course."
"I assure you, none took, Mr. Ebenezer, Sir."
"What we'll do is seal the bargain in a different, and I'm sure you'll agree, a much more pleasant fashion. Butler, fetch the brandy."
"Now yer be speaking me own language, Mr. Ebenezer, Sir."
Butler sighed forlornly and went to do his master's bidding.
SEBASTIAN DROOGE
"Come in!" called out Sebastian Drooge, a little brusquely.
A man as shabby as he was villainous entered a room adorned with books. Light from electric lanterns highlighted the spines of the thousands of volumes standing proudly upright like soldiers on parade in dark oak bookcases. The room smelled of polish and musty pages, but to Sebastian Drooge it was the fragrance of knowledge. Though he had not read every book on display, a vast amount of the dusty tomes had received the pleasure of his knowledge seeking attention.
Sebastian marked the page of the book he had been reading with a thin strip of blue silk ribbon attached to the spine and gently closed it. Only after he had climbed to his feet and placed the thick volume back in the vacant space in one of the bookshelves did he turn to address his visitor.
"Well?" he questioned.
"Yer were right, Sir, he is up to something. The man Butler met in London is a thief who goes by the name of Furtive Freddy. Apparently he's a bit dim but very good at what he does. He arrived at yer brother's manor earlier tonight and entered through the roof. A short while later I saw him talking and having dinner with yer brother and Butler. Though I couldn't hear what was said, it looked like their talk was of the conspiring type."
"Yes, I'm sure it was." Sebastian turned to look at the painting on the wall.
As Ebenezer surmised, it was also a copy with details not true to the original.
He turned back to face the man waiting patiently for attention. "Is the burglar still at Ebenezer's?"
"He was when I left to come and make my report to you. I 'ave two men watching the house, front and back, so if he leaves we'll know about it."
Sebastian spent a few moments thinking about the situation. "If they have formed a plan with this furtive thief, as I suspect they have, he will stay at the house until they come here and attempt to steal my painting. What they don't know is that I will be prepared for them. Do you have more men you can call into service?"
"Yes, Sir, tell me how many and what yer want them to do and I'll arrange it."
"Double the lookouts at the house and double the guards here, and contact Crakett Murdersin, tell him the time is near and he is to come here to finalize the arrangements."
"Yes, Sir. Will that be all?"
"Yes, Flint, that will be all. You have done well, continue to so and a bonus could be coming your way, fail me and it will be my dagger."
"Thank you Sir, I understand and will not let you down." He left the room and closed the door softly.
Sebastian's eyes wandered back to the painting. A smirk broke his usual persistent frown. Soon it would be in his grasp. When Ebenezer's men come to rob me, mine will be at his house robbing him. He almost laughed.
LURCH
Ebenezer looked at Furtive while he sipped his third deal celebration brandy, who, having downed his third in one gulp, stared longingly at the decanter on the table. "Have another if you..."
Furtive had grabbed the decanter on 'have,' filled his glass on 'another,' drunk it on 'if' and with empty glass clutched in grubby hands, stared longingly at the decanter on 'you.'
Ebenezer indicated to Butler with a nod of his head toward the brandy. "Now we have sealed our bargain, it is time to turn to other matters, the
details of our plan."
Furtive's eyes followed the decanter being relocated far from his reach. Accepting no more brandy was coming his way any time soon, he reluctantly placed the glass on the table.
"However," Ebenezer continued, "As we will no doubt encounter confined spaces during the robbery, I think it's essential for the health of anyone in close proximity to you, we at least try to somehow lessen the effect of your rotten odorous breath."
"Shall I fetch the acid and a very stiff broom, Sir?"
"Not yet, Butler, I'm hoping it won't come to that. We'll try something less severe first. Furtive, however hard and long I search my intelligent brain, I can't think of a more stupid question than the one I am about to ask you, but ask it I will. Do you have a toothbrush?"
"Matter of fact, Mr. Ebenezer, Sir, I think I might." Furtive plunged a hand into a pocket, there was a clatter of whatever objects he had concealed within moving about and then his hand reappeared holding a toothbrush, which he displayed proudly to the astonished onlookers."
"Well, Butler, you were right, he has surprised me."
"But… that's my toothbrush!" stated Butler unhappily, staring at his black and white butler themed toothbrush.
"I found it when I had a wander around yer house after I opened the safe and realised I'd been duped. I tell yer Mr. Ebenezer, Sir, if yer 'ave any valuables yer certainly 'ave em well hidden."
"You opened the safe!" said Ebenezer, astonished. "We didn't hear anything."
"That's because I didn't go in through the front ter set off yer little surprise. I suspected something weren't quite right about all this, so I nipped into the secret passage between the walls and went in from the back."
Ebenezer shook his head. "Secret passage! What secret passage?"
"The one accessed through the secret door in the wooden panelling in yer office of course."
Ebenezer was amazed and said so. "I'm amazed. I had no idea it was there."
"When yer've robbed as many big houses like this as what I 'ave, yer gets to smell 'em."
"If there were any doubts he wasn't the right man for the job, there can't be now, ay Butler." He looked at his servant and noticed the man's dismayed expression and the finger pointed at Furtive accusingly. "What's got into you, man? Lower that arm immediately?"
