Читать книгу Mr Landen Has No Brain - Stephen Walker - Страница 9

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‘Uncle Al?’

‘Yes?’

‘It’s me; Sally.’ The moment she got back to her offices, before she’d even got her breath back, she was on the phone to him.

And he’d better have a good explanation.

He said, ‘Sally who?’

‘Sally Cooper. Who do you think?’

‘I may know numerous young ladies of that name.’

‘Like who?’

‘Sally Dunstable.’

‘And who’s Sally Dunstable?’ she asked.

‘It doesn’t matter who she is.’

‘Whoever she is you don’t know her. You don’t know any young ladies.’

‘I know Miss Go-La-Go-Go,’ he said.

‘Cthulha’s not famous, young nor a lady. And she works for you.’

‘So?’

‘So she doesn’t count.’

‘Then what about my beloved Catherine?’ he asked. ‘Does she work for me?’

‘No.’

‘And are you saying she’s not a lady?’

‘No.’

‘Good. Because if you were–’

‘She’s a Japanese sniper.’

‘I find your attitude wounding. And so would she if she were here.’

‘She is there. And she’d find nothing. Speaking of wounding–’

‘Yes?’

‘Your new restaurant.’

‘I have two; one in town and–’

‘The one facing this building.’ Now sat at her desk, she prised open the Venetian blinds and peered out at it. It stood there in all its purple gory, no sign of a madwoman coming after her.

Her uncle said, ‘Young lady, only three factors matter in business; location, location and location. That restaurant fails on all three counts.’

‘Then why …?’

‘Mr Dunnett assures me its losses will lop substantial amounts off my next tax bill.’

‘Your cook’s just tried to eat me.’

‘Nonsense.’

‘She was about to stick me in the oven.’

‘Were you on her table?’

‘What’s that got to do with it?’

‘If it’s on her table she cooks it. She was most insistent on that at the interview. For five years she was a school dinner lady.’

‘So?’

‘So that’s how they do it in schools. With hundreds of mouths to feed there’s no time for fussing over ingredients. Each year numerous school boys disappear in such a manner.’

Sally pressed the bump at the back of her head and winced at the pain it produced. ‘Uncle Al, she knocked me out to get me on that table.’

‘A woman of initiative.’

‘She wears S+M gear.’

‘That’s right.’

‘What kind of school was this?’

He said, ‘I’m not at liberty to say but it produced half the British Cabinet.’

‘You don’t think you should sack her before she kills someone?’

‘I’m counting on her killing someone.’

‘What!?!’

‘Oh, no one important, just one of your more socially challenged guests; old Mr Johnson perhaps, the one with the pervert dog.’

‘Transsexualism’s not a perversion. It’s–’

‘Dogs didn’t do things like that in my day.’

‘No one did anything in your day.’

‘I did,’ he said.

‘I know you did. My God, you never stop regaling us with the full sordid details. But I was talking about real people.’

‘Regardless, if Barbara kills someone, I won’t have to pay her redundancy when I close the place down the day after my tax year ends.’

‘And you’re saying Charlie Dunnett suggested this?’

‘Well no. He doesn’t know about that part. And I suggest you don’t tell him – or Barbara won’t be the only one seeking a new job.’

‘Uncle Al?’

‘What?’

‘You don’t think she was involved in that scandal last year?’

‘What scandal?’

‘You know perfectly well what scandal.’

‘Sally, I know how much that incident upset you. It upset us all but you mustn’t go seeking scapegoats. Barbara’s merely a woman who was attracted to the town by its subsequent reputation and should not be implicated.’

Then Sally realized; ‘That’s why you hired me.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘You’re hoping I’ll kill someone!!’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘You don’t think I can do the job!!! You’re hoping I’ll accidentally kill someone. Then you can sack me without paying compensation.’

‘I may be planning to close the park at a similar time to the restaurant, yes.’

‘I don’t believe this!’

‘Never mind that.’

‘Never mind that!?! You don’t want to pay your own niece compensation!?!’

‘Well perhaps I’d want to pay her compensation if she hadn’t been such a let down.’

‘And what does that mean?’

‘You know.’

‘No, Uncle Al, I don’t.’

‘You want me to spell it out for you?’

‘Why don’t you?’

‘C-H-I-E-F C-H-I-R-P-A.’

‘Uncle Al, I won’t apologize for not having grown up to be king of the Ewoks.’

‘Some girls would.’

‘No girls would.’

‘Miss Go-La-Go-Go would.’

‘She probably thinks she is king of the Ewoks.’

‘And you could be, if you’d only meet those genetic scientists I told you about.’

‘What kind of man adopts his niece in the hope she’ll grow up to be a warrior teddy bear?’

‘Chief Chirpa of the Ewoks happened to be the cutest character in all science fiction. Some girls would be proud to be him/her/it.’

‘You don’t even know what sex it was.’

‘Sex isn’t a factor in the magical world of George Lucas.’

‘Do you know how sad you are?’ she said.

‘Do you know how disappointing you are?’

‘Shut up! she said.

‘Getting back to the point,’ he said.

‘Which is?’

‘The reason I wanted to know just who you were was because you might be Sally Dunstable pretending to be you.’

‘And why would this Sally Dunstable want to be me?’

‘To get her hands on what you’ve got.’

‘What’ve I got? And if you say the love of a good uncle–’

‘News.’

‘What news?’

‘The kind that’ll make you think God loves dull people.’

‘I’m not dull.’

‘Don’t be silly.’

‘I have a busy and active social life.’

‘Nonsense.’

‘I have friends.’

‘Piffle.’

‘I have fun.’

‘Never.’

‘And, though I may currently be sans boyfriend, I’ve been known to have sex.’

‘With a face like yours?’

‘With a face like mine.’

‘How can men sink so low?’

‘Clearly some can.’

‘This “fun” thing,’ he said.

‘What about it?’

‘Stop it at once.’

‘I’m not ruining my social life for you. I–’

‘Ruin it for a million pounds.’

‘What’re you on about?’

‘That’s what’s on offer to the safest caravan park in Wyndham.’

‘That’s us buggered,’ she said.

‘I’m not sure I like your attitude.’

‘Uncle Al, half the people who stay at this camp are suicidal. That’s why they come here, to sit alone in their caravans listening to Radiohead.’

‘I prefer to call them characters.’

‘And have you seen the latest two?’

‘They had tea with me last week.’

‘Who did?’

‘A delightful young lady and her pet chimp.’

‘The chimp was Britain’s leading brain scientist,’ she said.

‘Then why did he eat my cushions?’

‘Now do you see my point? They don’t strike me as being the safest people to have around.’

‘Nonetheless I have faith in you.’

She’d noticed. ‘And if I win I get a million pounds?’

‘The Council feels the huge death rate among tourists is damaging Wyndham’s reputation as a fun place to be – not to mention that scandal last year. So, as a publicity stunt, they’re offering the reward. I’m offering you a one percent commission.’

‘Offer me fifty.’

‘Fifty?’ he said.

‘Sixty.’

‘Sixty!?!’ He sounded like he was about to have a seizure. Good!

She leaned forward in her chair. ‘Uncle Al, without my help you get nothing. With my help you get four hundred grand.’

‘I could easily hire someone else to do your job.’

‘And have me spill the beans about “Barbara” and your little scheme? Or maybe I should tell her about it and she can come and get you. Have you seen the size of her meat cleaver?’

He slipped into a deep silence and considered the issue.

She waited, impatient, fiddling with the handset’s coiled lead. She checked on the restaurant again. Still no sign of cooks. She released the blinds. ‘Uncle Al?’

‘Young lady?’

‘Yes?’

‘I suggest you set about stopping your guests from killing themselves, forthwith.’

Mr Landen Has No Brain

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