Opum declined a drink and regaled Alfred Stump with anecdotes of his former life on the Force. When Henrietta re-joined them saying that Diana had retired for the night, and again Magnus declined a drink, the Stumps informed him of the coming showdown with Fullon. They gave him enough of the background story of the fellow’s crooked dealings with their son Monty for him to make some sense of what was going to happen and why.
Superintendent Opum (Retired) was not at all shocked by their story. Instead, he approved – not, he assured them, from the way their son had been sucked into the crooked deal, but by the lad’s novel solution. “Summary jurisdiction,” he declared. “That’s what it was called when I joined the Force. Yes. Fix the problem yourself and move on. Love it. ’Course, the world’s full of do-gooders now. Can’t do this, mustn’t do that, can’t say this, daren’t say that, must do, daren’t do, all that business. But I say, well done. Cut ’im down to size, problem solved, move on. All for it. Anything I can do to help?”
“Thanks for your support, Magnus. I’m quite sure Monty will be thrilled to hear that. But at the same time, in your position, I think it might be wise for your help to remain as moral support only. We’d be best served to keep this in the family without putting anyone else into a difficult position. Just if anything did get out of hand, you know. And my lawyers will take over later, anyway.”
“Fair enough. But the offer is there if you need it, and you’d be most welcome. I’ve done my time. Free agent and all that. When’s this character due?”
“The crazy invitation is for 7pm,” said Alfred. “As I understand it, if he does read it carefully enough, he’ll smell a rat – one of his own rats, no doubt, what? But Montague firmly believes the fellow will be so desperate for cash, he will think his own twisted plot is bearing fruit.” He added, “Monty’s arranged for two youngsters to act as reception at the front door. They should be here soon.
“A thought,” he continued, “Have you come across this fellow? Fairly Fullon. Lives at Bortontick, down at Sale.”
“To tell you the truth, I can’t remember.” Replied Magnus. “He’s not a key mover and shaker in the underworld so I wouldn’t know. Why?”
“Because if he doesn’t know you, there’s no reason for you to hide under the bed when he comes. I still suggest you take no part in whatever happens, but you might make a -”
Activity in the hallway had Henrietta Stump going to investigate.
“You’d be an admirable witness if push comes to shove later on,” Alfred managed to say before his wife led in two young spaniels.
Henrietta introduced the youngsters. Collin Coaker and Daniella his sister who was in place of James. They had on bright party hats, looked very clean and on their best behaviour. She noted that their mum was taking the occasion very seriously and had groomed and rehearsed them, determined “not to let the side down”, as a good mum would.
As soon as the intros were done, she had the two away from “the stuffy old men” and into the kitchen.
After getting as much biscuit and milk into them as possible, she produced the drinks tray. On it were a few very old bottles of some rich looking spirit and half a dozen glasses already very generously filled with the beautiful amber liquid.
Henrietta placed one glass on a smaller tray and served it to one of them, then got them to offer it to her. With only one guest coming, she pointed out that all the bottles and generously filled glasses were more for show than use.
They sniffed gingerly at the practice drink. She hastened to add that if someone were not used to the strength of such liquor, the effect would be really devastating, and it wasn’t exactly cheap plonk.
“How old is it?” Asked Daniella.
“Truth be told, I believe nobody really knows. We know its history is proved back many, many generations, but when or where it was made, nobody knows.” Responded Mrs Stump, straightening the lines of glasses and putting the one they were examining back on the little tray.
“How do you get something like that?” Wondered Collin.
Henrietta gave him a sharp look. “Don’t go trying it, now,” then relented. “We know this antiques dealer who specialises in rare wines and spirits. Not worth the upkeep in my opinion. I’d rather not keep it, anyway, but don’t tell Alfred I said that. He likes an occasional nip.”
She emphasized the importance of ensuring that the coming guest didn’t make a scene or leave too early, that he had done a great mischief to the family and this was pay-back time in the form of a practical joke on him.
She said there were things happening elsewhere that not even she knew about, but the Coakers had a key role to play, though it required little on their part. They were simply to invite him in, ask to see his invitation, offer him a welcome drink or two, and to keep a straight face. They needed to wear their party hats at least until the gentleman was with the others in the sitting room, and preferably was on his third drink. After that, they might be free to go home.
The youngsters were now much more relaxed, and busily took turns in offering each other the drink using the little tray. Satisfied with their grasp of the occasion, Mrs Stump took them and the trays out to the main hall to wait, and where she had a side table ready for the big tray of bottles and glasses.
She handed the little tray to Daniella to hold and got her to stand ready to place a drink on it as soon as the guest arrived. She moved Collin close to the door ready to ask for the guest’s invitation. Again she looked at the drinks.
“Don’t fill any more than that. I think I put too much in those as it is. If he gets through that lot, I’d be quite amazed. But never mind. It’s for a good cause.
“Incidentally,” she continued, “If Mr Fullon – that’s his name, by the way – If he asks where the others are – the invitation is for a party after all, but perhaps not the one he expects – then say ‘Any minute now, Mr Fullon. How is your drink? Can I get you another?’”
“Oh, Mrs Stump, you do that so well! Like you’ve been a bar-” Daniella was stopped by a sudden hasty look from Collin.
“You’d be surprised what I’ve done, my dear,” Mrs Stump intoned gently, “You’d be surprised. Meanwhile, you’ll be fine, but I’ll be close by.”
“Thank you, Mrs Stump.” Both kids said.
With a final glance at the drinks, she left. The two youngsters giggled with anticipation as Mrs Stump went through to the sitting room.
Soon enough Fairly Fullon, the completely white bull terrier, was at the front door of High Aytus dressed in multi-coloured Cockerel feathers and red cock’s comb hat.
The first thing that struck Collin was that a bull terrier dressing up as a cockerel was either plain stupid or very sure of himself. The second thing was the costume was actually a pretty good imitation of a cockerel. The third was unavoidable. No matter which way Collin tried to point his own nose, Mr Fullon had definitely consumed quite a number of fortifying drinks before stepping out. He reeked of it, but cool as a cucumber, Collin stepped sideways in his best effort to move forward into the fumes.
“Can I help you, Sir?”
“High Aytus. This it?” Fullon asked, knowing full well that it was.
“Yes indeed, Sir? Um...” Collin floundered in the vapours. Daniella leaned towards him and whispered, “Are you expected?”
“Are you expected, Sir?” Collin recovered himself.
“’Course I am!” Fullon started to push forward. This action unlocked the nerves in Collin. He stepped forward and blocked Fullon.
“Invitation?” he said in the deepest voice he could muster.
Fullon fumbled and found it. Collin unrolled it and read slowly, but with Fullon breathing fumes at him, he made no sense of it. The words shimmered as if in a heat haze. But he did see Fullon’s name. Then he felt foolish, realizing there was only this one dude coming.
“Your papers are in order, thank you, Sir,” he handed the invitation back and had a brainwave.
“Like your costume,” he said then
quickly added, “Sir?”
Fullon beamed. “Thank you.” He visibly relaxed. “Am I the first?”
“Yes indeed, Suh.” Almost saying Sucker instead of Sir, he stifled a cough and stood back as Daniella stepped forward.
“Welcome, and would you care for a drink, Sir?”
“That’s more like it!” Said Fairly Fullon expansively, taking the drink, looking Daniella fully up and down before giving her a wink and sauntering on.
The two at the door were worried that he hadn’t even tried the drink. Instinctively, they both trailed after him, with Collin putting another drink on Daniella’s little tray.
THE INVITATION
84 TIME TO PARTY
The youngsters needn’t have worried. No sooner was Fullon in the sitting room than Mrs Stump swooped on him and seemed to tell him something very confidential. She came out into the hall and stood with the youngsters as they watched Fullon slug down his whole drink in one go.
“What did you say to him?” Asked Daniella.
“Just that there may not be enough drinks when everybody else arrives. I think he’s ready for another one. Off you go.” As they went, Mrs Stump whisked the fancy hats off them and went to the kitchen. Pretence was no longer needed.
Considering all the cheap plonk Fairly Fullon had already downed in his pre-celebration celebration at home, the pure, smooth super-aged single malt high velocity vintage kerjonk had no trouble showing some serious muscle among the inner workings of Fairly Fullon. This puzzled him. After all, there was little else to live for these days so he was used to tying on a few. But this stuff was unbelievably smooth and such genuine fire!
“Thangyou my dear,” Especially...Hmmm. He turned so as to continue admiring Daniella as she went back to stand beside the other youngster.
“So remiscient of not so long ago really.” He waved his drink at the old fox in front of him, “Place is ideal for my little get-togethers. Come to think of it,” he went on, “if this booze comes with the place, by-dam- diddly-doy, I really am a lucky boy! What?”
Fullon detected no reaction whatever.
Now who are these people? I thought I was going to be the first. He accosted the first one. “I take it you’re here to celibate too that I’ve come into the place?”
Alfred Stump stood his ground, summing up this cockerel-clad clown.
“How are you doing, old chap? Have you any idea what you walked into?” He asked this as if talking to someone who was lost, or simple.
“What did he say?” Fullon asked Opum as he moved closer to Stump, “Do I know who you’re talking to?” He peered at Opum. “No, of course not.” He swung back to Stump Senior. “Do you know who I’m talking to?” he said loudly, as if to someone who didn’t understand the language, “No, ’cause we haven’t been interjuiced.” With no reaction, he returned to Magnus, but Stump intervened.
“Why not have another drink, Fullon. It’s on the house, you know. On The House?” He signalled for the drinks tray. The kids had replenished it and it appeared magically in front of Fullon.
Drink number two was half gone. Fullon tried to focus on the new one but his eyes were occasionally losing focus.
“Shouldnuff had those drinks at hoam. Wasted.” He confided to no one. Gulping down number two, he plonked it on the tray and swiped up number three.
Stump murmured to Opus, “Lunch at the club on me if he finishes that.”
“You’re on.” Murmured the dachshund. They watched Fullon again eyeing the backside of Daniella in her little apron as she returned to her position.
Fullon turned back to Stump and asked, “Whatsis stuff, then – burp – Mm?” He waved his glass around.
“Good question. Glad you asked. It happens to be hundred percent proof, finest cask strength, umpteen years old oak matured single malt, small batch, pot stilled, hand crafted kerjonk.”
“What ev’. Whachew call-all - s’cuse me - callit?”
“I call it my ‘Sucker Punch’. You like it?” Stump asked warmly.
Fullon looked puzzled for a long moment.
Stump decided to test the waters.
“Mr Fullon,” he enquired, “Why are you here?”
“Salivate my ownershit. Ship. Mine now.” Fullon declared emphatically.
“What is yours now, may I ask?”
“This popity is mine. Got it. Allovit.”
“How do you know it’s now yours Mr Fullon?”
“I have the innovation to poof...roof it.”
“The innovation. Can you show me?”
“Suddenly. God it right hh. Ear.” He pulled out the invitation and gave it.
“This is an invitation, yes,” said Stump, reading it, “to come here tonight. I sent you this invitation. I hope you’re enjoying yourself. Why not finish your drink. This party is for you, so drink up, yes? Mm?” He passed the invitation to Opum.
Half the drink went down. Alfred Stump suddenly realized his wife had made the drinks at least double any normal size. In which case, he’d have to work fast if he was to get anywhere before this fellow passed out.
“I am Alfred Stump. I own High Aytus. I inherited it from my father. What are you doing here...ah... Fairly?” It took an effort to say Fullon’s first name.
“My condolon nuts on your loss, Mr Schtum. When your son died I get it. Got papers to poof it.”
“Thank you for the thought, old chap, but my son is very well. You’d be amused to know what he’s doing right now.”
“No, no,no,no. You misnerstand. I get got the prpopty in a game of chunts. All quite legal an above buds. I got dogmunt... docmnts to poo-rooff – ’scuze me - ooff prr-ooff it.”
“Tell me about the game, Fairy - er Fairly, was it a good game?”
“Bess game ever! Game of Chants. Chunds. Push... ush-taboomdingdang I win! All down to char-nce, you know.”
“And what about the rats, Mr Fullon? You remember the rats? Making all the, er, pushtaboomdingdangs, weren’t they? Did they win anything? The rats?”
“Nono. They were my little secret n-not supposed to be see – een. That was the puke-er puberty. BEAUTY! Yes. Booty of my skim, but they had a floppy. Falling out? Game fell to pisses. Ruined it.”
“What got ruined, then?” Stump asked almost gently.
“My little skim to ruin um. All gone.” Fullon’s eyes crossed.
“Your scheme to ruin um? Who were you trying to ruin... Fairly?”
“Oh, you know. Munday Stum. Family’s loaded. Soon as I saw ’im. Tha’s the one! Said that. Yes? Boy was diff’nt. Glass. Monday had glass.”
Monty had class?” asked Stump Senior.
“Oh yes. All that wealth and good bleeding. His fammly. Oh yes! But don’t worry. If you haven’t god it, you’ll never know. Sorry ’bout that. But me? Regung -nized it straight w-way.
“Fascinating.” Stump encouraged, “How’s that drink? Ready for another?
Fullon began a serious attempt to finish number three.
“Steady, maybe encourage talk not drink.” Muttered Opum, “We can get more out of him yet, I think. Let him ‘educate’ you a bit more?”
“Ah!” Said Stump, understanding the problem and easily taking up from what Fullon had said, “So there’s Monty. What did you recognize?”
“Oh, easy peezy really,” replied Fullon. “I mean, look ad it fum my porn of vue! His famully z loaded! Never use it all. N I’ve god to keep the money coming in, hant I? It’s my life, after all! All very sim, pl furry symbol. He’s god it N I need it! He wasn’ the last one. Nono, but he ws the best wa. One. I got ’im to bet ’is whole estate on my game ’n ’e couldn’t win! They never win.” Fairly Fullon leaned forward to Stump and Opum and breathed out the word, “Suggers.”
The other two recoiled from Fullon’s breath. He was mistakenly flattered by their reaction. “Suck-ers all of them! But you know, a dog’s got to make a living. He lust. Lost. I got all that ess-tate. Bess ss-winkle Window SWINDLE bess windle yet! And young Monday spoilt it.” Full
on turned maudlin.
“Monday? Who spoilt it?” Pressed Stump.
“Godda siddown. Siddown kwig.” Fullon was crying, turning even whiter.
“Monty spoilt your game?”
“Montague.” Fullon carefully corrected him and explained through his tears, “The boy had Class you know. Class?” Fullon managed to squint at both Stump and Opum at the same time. “Class!” He shouted as if they were deaf. “Don’t think you understand. Munty was my best biggest spindle. Yes! Unfottulantly, lars of my spindles, squindles, oh I’m squinning.” Fullon turned his head and slowly laid out on the couch. With a sigh, he entered a deep sleep.
Alfred Stump looked down at Fullon. “D’ you get all that, Magnus?”
“If he wasn’t dressed like that,” said Opum, “I’d say his goose was well and truly cooked.”
85 A RACE AGAINST TIME
Message-running greyhounds are paid to run. Fast. Police greyhounds trained hard. Some of them are almost fanatical. The pay is not good, but adequate. But that’s not why they work so hard at it. They are all determined to outdo each other. This is the greyhound equivalent of the rat race. The runner sent by Button to warn Magnus Opum of the impending crisis was known as Dodo. He had graduated bottom of his class at the Academy. Hence the nickname. However, Dodo preferred the name Doodoo. He was determined to outdo everybody.
He had screamed and howled all the way from HQ. Going flat out and still howling he charged towards High Aytus. The doors were wide open. Nobody was in sight. He took all this in his stride – meaning not much of it got to his brain.
Address - Check. Door open - Check. I’m expected - Check. All good.
At full throttle, he hurtled and howled straight through the entrance and down the hall and braked.
Brakes don’t work well on shiny floors. He slid at full speed towards the living room, flew across the room, and shot straight into a glass cabinet under a portrait of Ebeneezer Stump of unknown vintage (oil on canvas, in the likeness of [indecipherable] by Phlegm Gunt) - Doodoo disappeared in the collapsing debris.
A Tour de Fate Page 26