'He's got it with him now.'
'He never moves without it.'
'You'd think he'd have the sense to adopt some rude disguise.'
'You would indeed, sir, but the mental processes of a man like that are hard to follow.'
'Then there's no need for me to phone the local police?'
'None, sir. I will take him into custody.'
'You wouldn't like me to hit him over the head first with a Zulu knobkerrie?'
'Unnecessary, sir.'
'It might be safer.'
'No, sir, I am sure he will come quietly.'
'Well, have it your own way. But don't let him give you the slip.'
'I will be very careful, sir.'
'And shove him into a dungeon with dripping walls and see to it that he is well gnawed by rats.'
'Very good, sir.'
What with all the stuff about reverse passes and prop forwards, plus the strain of seeing gentlemen's personal gentlemen appear from nowhere and of having to listen to that loose talk about Zulu knob-kerries, the Wooster bean was not at its best as we moved off, and there was nothing in the way of conversational give-and-take until we had reached my car, which I had left at the front gate.
'Chief Inspector whoT I said, recovering a modicum of speech as we arrived at our objective.
'Witherspoon, sir.'
'Why Witherspoon? On the other hand,' I added, for I like to look on both sides of a thing, 'why not Witherspoon? However, that is not germane to the issue and can be reserved for discussion later. The real point - the nub - the thing that should be threshed out immediately - is how on earth do you come to be here?'
'I anticipated that my arrival might occasion you a certain surprise, sir. I hastened after you directly I learned of the revelation Sir Watkyn had made to Miss Byng, for I foresaw that your interview with Major
Plank would be embarrassing, and I hoped to be able to intercept you before you could establish communication with him.'
Practically all of this floated past me.
'How do you mean, the revelation Pop Bassett made to Stiffy?'
'It occurred shortly after luncheon, sir. Miss Byng informs me that she decided to approach Sir Watkyn and make a last appeal to his better feelings. As you are aware, the matter of the statuette has always been one that affected her deeply. She thought that if she reproached Sir Watkyn with sufficient vehemence, something constructive might result. Greatly to her astonishment, she had hardly begun to speak when Sir Watkyn, chuckling heartily, asked her if she could keep a secret. He then revealed that there was no foundation for the story he had told Mr. Travers and that in actual fact he had paid Major Plank a thousand pounds for the object.'
It took me perhaps a quarter of a minute to sort all this out.
'A thousand quid?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Not a fiver?'
'No, sir.'
'You mean he lied to Uncle Tom?'
'Yes, sir.'
'What on earth did he do that for?'
I thought he would say he hadn't a notion, but he didn't.
'I think Sir Watkyn's motive was obvious, sir.'
'Not to me.'
'He acted from a desire to exasperate Mr. Travers. Mr. Travers is a collector, and collectors are never pleased when they learn that a rival collector has acquired at an insignificant price an objet d'art of great value.'
It penetrated. I saw what he meant. The discovery that Pop Bassett had got hold of a thousand-quid thingummy for practically nothing would have been gall and w. to Uncle Tom. Stiffy had described him as writhing like an egg whisk, and I could well believe it. It must have been agony for the poor old buster.
'You've hit it, Jeeves. It's just what Pop Bassett would do. Nothing would please him better than to spoil Uncle Tom's day. What a man, Jeeves!'
'Yes, sir.'
'Would you like to have a mind like his?'
'No, sir.'
'Nor me. It just shows how being a magistrate saps the moral fibre. I remember thinking as I stood before him in the dock that he had a
