After a few moments, I said, ‘We don’t know for sure that he has these books, do we?’
‘I fear, sir, that for a gentleman of Sir Henry’s interests and disposition they would be a sine qua non.’
‘A cine-what?’
‘They would form the cornerstone of his library, sir.’
‘So what do you suggest? Burn down the library? Like the chap at where was it?’
‘Alexandria, sir. No, I think such drastic action unnecessary. I judge it would suffice merely to remove the volumes in question.’
‘To pinch them, you mean.’
‘To rehouse them temporarily elsewhere, sir.’
‘Then he could just ring up a pal and ask him to read out the entry on old Etringham. You haven’t thought this one through, Jeeves.’
‘With respect, sir, I had foreseen the problem you raise. It may be necessary for the telephone line to be temporarily disabled.’
‘This is all getting a bit much,’ I said. ‘Don’t you think it would be better to beat a swift retreat?’
‘Where to, sir?’
The penny dropped with a nasty clang. I couldn’t go back to London, where Aunt Agatha had by now installed herself in my flat and for all I knew was at this moment preparing the first of her human sacrifices.
‘Anywhere,’ I said. ‘Cornwall would do. Or we could catch a Channel ferry from Poole and lie low in Dieppe until the trouble blows over.’
‘I had the strong impression, sir, that Mr Beeching is relying on our help. The question of his future happiness is a grave one.’
I said nothing for a longish time while I stared out of the back window over the cottage garden. Woody was my brother in all but fact. His plight looked pretty desperate, seeming to hang on the whim of this sports-mad old snob. And then there was the Georgiana complication …. In that particular foggy business, I couldn’t at this moment make out the wood for the trees, but one thing seemed fairly certain: this was no time to leave the forest.
‘Jeeves,’ I said. ‘There is a tide in the whatsit of men …’
‘So I am given to understand, sir.’
‘So you’d better get up to the Hall pretty sharpish and do your dirty work before Sir Henry gets back from his ride and curls up with Debrett.’
There was a pause, a longish one.
‘I say, Jeeves?’
‘Yes, sir?’
‘You’re not saying anything.’
Jeeves went through a bit more of the old coughing and shoe-staring routine.
‘What is it, Jeeves? Out with it.’
‘I fear it would be ill-advised for a member of the peerage to be seen in the vicinity of the Hall with wire-cutters, sir, or books that did not belong to him. It would give the wrong impression.’
‘But you’re not going to be seen, Jeeves. This is a smash-and-grab operation. In, out, and back to Seaview Cottage in fifteen minutes flat, books in hand. We lower a snootful to toast your success, bung you into some evening clothes and shove you back up the drive as Lord E.’
‘I fear the danger of discovery is too great, sir. After all, the Hall is home to Lady Hackwood, Miss Hackwood and Miss Meadowes in addition to Sir Henry. I gained the impression that there are further house guests as well as a sizeable domestic staff on the premises.’
‘Then if it’s too risky, we’d better leave old Woody in the lurch and repack the bags. Unless of course … You’re not suggesting … Jeeves, I absolutely … Under no circumstances …’
‘In the event of your being discovered, sir, you would have the advantage of being unknown to Sir Henry.’
‘What if he rings the police? Are you suggesting I give a false name?’
‘If you remember, sir, on the occasion of Boat Race night—’
‘All right, all right, it wouldn’t be the first time. I suppose Eustace H. Plimsoll, of The Laburnums, Alleyn Road could make a comeback by popular demand. For one night only. At a pinch. But it’s not a pinch I intend to feel.’
‘Such an expedient might be wise, sir. I feel it would be most unfortunate were Sir Henry to discover that an intruder in his house was the same person as the gentleman whose social activities on the Côte d’Azur had threatened to block his path to financial salvation.’
I put my foot down. ‘Damn it, Jeeves, I simply can’t go through with this. Woody or no Woody.’
I was still protesting silently when I found myself slinking up the back drive of Melbury Hall some ten minutes later.
I am something of a connoisseur of the country pile and I must say old Sir Henry had done himself remarkably well. At a guess I would say it was from the reign of Queen Anne and had been bunged up by a be-wigged ancestor awash with loot from the War of the Spanish Succession or some such lucrative away fixture. This ancient Hackwood had stinted himself on neither grounds nor messuages. The ensemble reached as far as the eye could see, taking in deer park, cricket pitch, lawns and meadows as well as walled kitchen gardens and a stable block that could have quartered the Household Cavalry. The staff needed for such a place must have drawn on every household in Kingston St Giles and I could see that whoever signed the yearly cheque to the electricity company would need a tumblerful of something strong to nerve him for the task.