Thursdays With Uncle Boom #28

I visited my good friend Georgie at his country house. Georgie was a Detective Inspector from Scotland Yard and had called me over to celebrate his recent promotion to Detective Chief Inspector. He was a fine figure of a fellow despite having a chin like a weasels penis.

I pulled up in my motor, Old Bessie and parked it next to a big grubby white van which was taking up an exorbitant amount of space in his driveway. As I got out of Old Bessie, I gave the van a disapproving kick.

Bloody tramp wagon? In the driveway? Whatever next?

I humphed my way past it and up to the door where Georgie's man attempted to take my coat.

Hands off quimling, fetch me a bloody brandy, make it a large one.

I breezed past him and into the lounge where Georgie was standing, one hand perched on the mantelpiece.

Georgie old fellow, congratulations on the Detectivity promotion!

Thanks old chap! I am very happy that they chose me!

Georgie's serving man came in with the Brandies. We took them and chinked them together.

Down the hatch!

We threw them back and waited patiently for the man to fill them up again.

So when are the other buggers arriving old fellow, so we can get this Party started as that godawful skunk-haired woman sang?

Georgie checked his timepiece.

Oh about half an hour or so, you are dashed early old chap!

I took my pipe out and offered Georgie some of my Pork & The Princess tobacco, a blend I was enjoying at the moment. We puffed in silence over a few more brandies.

So, before they all get here old fellow. What does a Detective Chief Inspector do? Will you still have time for a drink at The Club in the afternoons?

Of course old chap, of course. Club comes first eh! The thing is, I have been given a bloody taskforce and everything! Can you believe it? Me! Big bloody team of us. We have been given a top secret investigation. It's all very bloody exciting.

I took my pipe from my mouth and raised an querying eyebrow. Just then there was a huge clattering noise from upstairs followed by a dry rasping noise like a Welshman having sex with his wife.

What the donkey fuck is going on upstairs, Georgie?

Oh that? Bloody plumber. Had some trouble with the drains. You know, the venison shits?

Georgie shuddered.

Ah yes, the venison shits.

I shuddered too. I gestured for more brandy to his man, still loitering about with the half-full bottle.

So, top secret investigation eh? Sounds bloody fascinating. Looks like they have the right bloody fellow for the job in you!

Georgie blushed.

Well, I can't really say anything about it, you know, a gentleman never tells and all that.

My smile dropped a little.

Ah yes, of course old man. I understand. If you ever need any, you know... Assistance, then don't hesitate to give me a call.

Georgie's face brightened somewhat.

That would be fantastic old chap, I might just do that, you being such an impeccable gentleman, the matter we are investigating is a little, ahem, delicate.

I leaned in close to him.

Well between two fellows who have played Burdy or Turdy at the Christmas ball...

I winked conspiratorially.

Georgie let out a barking laugh.

Yes well...

Scuse me guv?

We both turned to the door of the lounge where a peasant in overalls stood. He was a gnarly looking bugger, a smug look on his face like he kept Chinchillas in his basement. Georgie waved his brandy at him to speak.

That pipe upstairs guv, It's fucked. Rammed full of big clotty shits. It's a bigger job than I first thought.

Damn, will this affect the price?

Georgie's face took on a worried cast as if the head of his penis had sprouted a thatch of unruly dark hair.

The peasant whistled through his teeth.

Big job, like I say. Be double what I quoted ya.

Georgie winced.

Alright then old chap. Be a good sort and get on with it. I've got bloody guests coming.

The peasant tipped him a wink and headed back upstairs. I shook my head at the audacity of the fellow.

Is the mucky bastard reneging on his quote? You should arrest him!

We both chortled and had another brandy and a puff.

Your taskforce then old fellow. Something delicate is it?

Georgie brightened.

Well yes, strictly in confidence old fellow but we may be on the trail of a...

He leaned in closer than was respectable for a man.

Serial Killer...

He stood back and grinned proudly as if he had just milked a bull for a pint of the good stuff.

I narrowed my eyes.

A bloody what?

A serial killer, old bean. You know? Somone who murders repeatedly. A dark and lonely soul who kills with no remorse.

Georgie's eyes had an odd gleam as he stared at me, smoke curling up from his pipe and wrapping around his head as he carried on.

The thing is though, these serial killers are predictable. They can't stop killing and because of that, they eventually slip up. It's only a matter of time before we nail... our...man.

Well that's fucking marvellous old fellow. With a Prince of Detectivity like you at the helm this scoundrel has no chance! Now, I hope that bloody peasant has finished with your pipes, I might have a venison shit brewing myself!

I plopped my brandy down and made my way upstairs. I returned shortly. Georgie was looking out the large bay window humming a tune.

I say, old fellow?

Georgie turned.

I paid that peasant for you. A bit of a congratulations on the promotion. Thought it was the least I could do for my old Georgie Porgie.

Did you old bean? That's so awfully kind! I see his van is still out there?

Oh yes, he said something about coming back later for it and off he went. I gave him a big tip, probably off to buy a bloody big ham!

We laughed together at the thought of a peasant eating ham like a real person.

How much did he charge in the end old bean, if you don't mind me asking?

I smiled, a smile of ice and the lonely cry of a gull.

But I do mind my friend! After all...