Exploits Page 13

  Well, I spent a couple of more minutes letting her argue me into it, and then I went up to my room and freshened up a bit. When my stomach told me that it was dinnertime, I opened the door and started walking down the hall to the big winding staircase that lead to the main floor and the dining room, when I bumped into a familiar-looking figure coming out of his own room.

  “Doctor Jones!” said Rupert Cornwall. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Howdy, Brother Rupert,” I greeted him. “You still on the run from Inspector Willie Wong?”

  He put a finger to his lips. “I must ask you to be more discreet,” he said, which I took to be an affirmative.

  “No problem at all, Brother Rupert,” I said. “But just out of curiosity, what's Hong Kong's most notorious criminal kingpin doing hiding out in Lady Edith's house?”

  He grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me into his room, then closed the door behind us. “I'm not hiding out, Doctor Jones,” he said. “In point of fact, I'm here to press my suit upon her.”

  “Sounds painful,” I said. “Wouldn't an ironing board do just as well?”

  “You misunderstand,” said Rupert. “I'm courting Lady Edith.”

  “So you're the guy who pushed Geoffrey Bainbridge out of the howdah,” I said.

  “How did you know that?” he demanded.

  “I happened along just in time to save him from getting et by a tiger.”

  “You mean he's here right now?” asked Rupert, a kind of wild look about his eyes.

  “No, he'll be indisposed for the next couple of months.”

  Rupert kind of chuckled at that. “Good!” he said. “I'll have her married long before then.”

  “Well, now, I sure wouldn't count on it, Brother Rupert,” I said.

  He stared at me kind of suspiciously. “Why not?”

  “You might say that another player just entered the game,” I answered.

  “You?” he sneered. “You haven't got a chance with her.”

  “Well, that remains to be seen, don't it?” I said.

  “I want you to know that I resent your intrusion, Doctor Jones,” he said. “I'm the one who found this set-up. I think it's very unfair of you to come along now and try to horn in after I've laid all the romantic groundwork.”

  “Before you get to feeling too righteous, Brother Rupert,” I said, “let me remind you that I'd still be in Hong Kong spending our ill-gotten gains if some criminal kingpin had played square with me.”

  “That was just business,” he said innocently. “Surely a man of the world like yourself doesn't hold that against me.”

  “This is just business too, Brother Rupert,” I said. “I'll make you a deal, though: I won't tell her how and where we met if you don't.”

  “I agree,” he said. “And may the best man win.”

  “Especially if he's a handsome, God-fearing Christian missionary,” I added.

  We left his room then and went down the stairs to dinner, where we were joined by Lady Edith and maybe a dozen other house guests, most of them titled and all of them very old and very British. Afterward I recounted how I had pulled this raging tiger off poor Geoffrey Bainbridge's torn and tattered body and choked the life out of it, and when Lady Edith insisted that I stay over for a week or two, I shot Rupert a triumphant grin and figured that the Flame of Bharatpur was as good as mine.

  We were up bright and early the next morning, and Lady Edith offered to show me around the place. She was dressed in her walking britches, and looking vigorous as all get-out, and she set a mighty fast pace, pointing out all her various flowers that had won prizes in flower shows. Then we visited the stables, and I saw her prize-winning horses, and after that we went to the kennels, where I saw her prize-winning dogs, and by the time we got to the barn to look at her prize-winning cattle and her prize-winning pigs I began to get the impression that Lady Edith was more than a little bit on the competitive side.

  “I show them all over the continent,” she said, pointing to a pair of bulls who were snorting to beat the band and looked like they wanted nothing more than a matador breakfast. “This one even took a first in England last year before I imported him.”

  One of the pigs started squealing, and she walked over and petted him. “This is Sylvester, my pride and joy,” she confided to me. “He's won prizes in five different countries.”

  Well, I looked at Sylvester, and Sylvester looked at me, and all I could think was that he'd go mighty well with fried eggs and maybe some hash-brown potatoes, but I didn't want to offend Lady Edith, so I allowed that Sylvester was about the prettiest pig I'd ever seen. That seemed to satisfy her, and we moved along past the ducks and the chickens, most of which had blue ribbons tacked up next to their coops, and finally we finished the tour and returned to the house. “It's such a lovely day, why don't we have breakfast on the terrace?” she suggested.

  Well, that suited me fine, since it meant I wouldn't have to share her company with my rival, and I followed her to a glass table with an umbrella over it. We sat down, and a couple of servants appeared from nowhere to serve us tea and little biscuits, and then they vanished again, and just as I was trying to figure out the best way to start charming her, she turned to me and reached her hand out for mine.

  “I'm so glad you decided to stay, Lucifer,” she said.

  Well, I'd had ladies fall in love with me before, but never quite that fast, and I figured this was going to be even easier than I'd thought.

  “Well, that's perfectly understandable, you being the vigorous and attractive woman you are, in the prime of life so to speak, and me being a dashing Christian gentleman of noble mind and bold spirit.”

  “You are the answer to my prayers,” she continued.

  “Yeah?” I said, wondering whether to pop the question now or wait a respectable amount of time, like maybe another five minutes. “Tell me about ’em.”

  “I've been so worried, what with all the tigers in the area,” she said.

  “Tigers?” I said, surprised. “Who in tarnation is talking about tigers?”

  “We are,” she replied. “That's why I'm so thrilled that you're here, Lucifer. As long as there are tigers in the area, all of my prize livestock is at risk, and to be perfectly honest, Mr. Cornwall, while a fine and thoughtful gentleman, really isn't the sort to comb the countryside looking for tigers—whereas you, the man who killed the tiger that attacked Geoffrey Bainbridge with your bare hands...”

  “Well, it wasn't quite with my bare hands,” I interrupted her uneasily.

  “Don't be so modest, Lucifer,” she said. “One of the local natives found and skinned the tiger, and the shopkeeper who bought the pelt said that there wasn't a bullet hole or even a knife wound anywhere on it.” She paused and stared at me. “Will you agree to lead a tiger hunt this afternoon?”

  “I'd sure like to, ma'am,” I said, “but usually I set afternoons aside for prayer and meditation, me being a man of the cloth and all.”

  “Couldn't you forego your meditation this one time, Lucifer?” she said. “You would have my undying gratitude.”

  Well, it wasn't quite the same as her undying love, but it was a step in the right direction, and besides, I suddenly had a notion of how to impress the bejabbers out of her and make Rupert Cornwall look feeble by comparison.

  “Well, God is a pretty understanding critter,” I said. “I suppose He wouldn't mind if I took an afternoon off to clear up your tiger problem.”

  “Thank you,” she said with a great big smile.

  “Of course, you understand that I don't make of point of rasslin’ tigers hand-to-hand,” I continued. “It takes too much time, and it's right hard on my clothes.”

  “We have all the guns you could possibly need,” she assured me. “I can supply you with beaters, trackers, gunbearers, elephants, anything you want.”

  “Well, I thank you for the offer, ma'am,” I said, “but I couldn't risk the lives of very heathen that I came to India to save. No, I think
it'd be best if I just go out alone and match my wits and skills with the fearsome beasts of the jungle.”

  “What a remarkable man you are, Lucifer!” she said. “I didn't know such brave, adventurous spirits still existed!”

  “That's because you been associating with men like Rupert Cornwall too long,” I said. “Nature ain't run totally out of noblemen just yet.”

  “You may just have a point, Lucifer,” she said, and I figured that I had just pulled ahead of Rupert right then and there.

  Well, I spent the rest of the morning loafing around, and by noontime most of Lady Edith's guests were up and around, and even Rupert wandered downstairs looking for a little grub, so we all had lunch together while Lady Edith told ’em what a brave and fearless deed I was about to do on her behalf, and I modestly explained that it wasn't nothing special and indeed was all part of a day's work for a Christian gentleman of high moral standards what was intent on serving his fellow man, or woman as the case happened to be.

  Rupert just kept looking at me like I was crazy, but everyone else was right impressed, and when it came time for me to pick up a gun and head out the door, all of the guests came up and hugged me one by one, which was a most fortuitous thing since it enabled me to lift of couple of the old gentlemen's wallets. Once I got outside I pulled about five hundred pounds out of ’em, then went back and announced that I was feeling mighty lucky this afternoon and thought I'd probably better take some extra ammunition along. We all hugged each other again, which allowed me to replace the wallets, and then I was out the door and walking boldly into the wild fields that surrounded Lady Edith's estate.

  I walked for nearly a mile, and when I was sure no one was following me I took a hard right and headed off to Jaipur. It took me the better part of an hour to get there, and once I arrived I went right up to the first Indian I saw on the street and asked him where the local taxidermist was. He pointed out a shop down the block, and I went over to it and opened the door.

  “Good afternoon on you, Sahib,” said a pudgy Indian with a neat little beard. “How may I be at your service?”

  “I'm in the market for tiger skins,” I said. “You got any for sale?”

  “How many do you want?” he asked.

  “I dunno,” I replied. “How many have you got?”

  “You come back and see,” he said, escorting me through a door to his workshop.

  Well, there were skins galore back there, everything from tigers to leopards to deer to what-have-you, along with a fair sampling of elephant tusks and rhinoceros horns. He pulled out a tigerskin rug and held it up for me.

  “Very nice rug, very nice price, Sahib,” he said. “Forty pounds.”

  “I don't want no rugs,” I said. “Just skins.”

  He ran over to another pile and held up a skin. “Beautiful tiger skin, this one, Sahib. The notorious Maneater of Dindori. For you, twenty-five pounds.”

  “What about those over there?” I asked, pointing to a pile of skins that had flies buzzing around them.

  He shook his head. “Oh, you do not want these, Sahib,” he said. “I have not had time to prepare them yet. They just arrived this week.”

  “How many of ’em are there?” I asked.

  “Seven.”

  “Tell you what,” I said. “I'll take ’em all off your hands for fifty pounds apiece.”

  His jaw dropped so far I thought it was going to hit the floor. Then he gave me a great big smile and nodded his head.

  “You drive a hard bargain, Sahib,” he said. “But what is a poor shopkeeper to do?”

  “I'll tell you what he's to do,” I said.

  “Sahib?” he said, looking kind of puzzled.

  “For another hundred and fifty pounds, he's to keep his mouth shut about this little transaction.”

  For just a minute there I had the feeling that he was going to get down on his knees and kiss my feet, but he showed admirable restraint and a few minutes later I had loaded all seven skins into a cart he loaned me and started back toward Lady Edith's estate.

  When I was maybe three miles away I made a big semi-circle and wound up in the fields where Akbar had accidentally saved Geoffrey Bainbridge's life the day before, and I took my rifle and fired seven quick shots into the air. Then I sat down and smoked a cigar, hid the cart in the woods, and started lugging the tiger skins up to Lady Edith's house.

  Just about the time I hove into view a bunch of her servants ran out to greet me, screaming and cheering wildly, and took the skins from me, and then all the guests started yelling “Hip hip hooray!” and Lady Edith ran up and planted a great big kiss on me, and Rupert looked like if someone had given him a shovel he'd have dug a hole and crawled right into it.

  About an hour later we all sat down for dinner, and I recounted the story about how I'd wiped out all the tigers in the neighborhood, adding a number of properly heroic embellishments, and Lady Edith couldn't take her eyes off me, and everyone kept asking me to tell it over and over again, and Rupert just sat and looked like something he'd et had disagreed kind of violently with him.

  We adjourned to the drawing room, where I gave ’em a few last thrilling details of the hunt, and then they started heading off to their bedrooms, and Lady Edith gave me another kiss and shook Rupert's hand goodnight, and finally I didn't have no one left to tell my story to, so I went up to my room.

  I hadn't been there more than a minute or two when Rupert came in and closed the door behind him.

  “All right, Doctor Jones,” he said. “I don't know how you did it, but you've managed to turn her head. Temporarily.”

  “Well, it's mighty decent of you to acknowledge that, Brother Rupert,” I said.

  “I didn't come here to flatter you,” said Rupert. “I came here to talk business. What will it take to buy you off?”

  “What makes you think I want to be bought off?” I asked.

  “Why spend the rest of your life in a loveless marriage when I can make you independently wealthy?” he said.

  “Ain't that what you plan to do?” I replied.

  “That's beside the point,” said Rupert. “Name your price.”

  “Okay,” I said, after mulling on it for a minute or two. “I want the Flame of Bharatpur.”

  He looked at me kind of funny-like. “That's it?” he asked.

  “Well, not quite,” I said. “I hate farewell scenes with love-crazed women, so I'm going to leave tonight while everyone's asleep, and I want you to give her a note from me saying that I was called away because my wife is having a baby, which should help ease her sorrow. I'll take the Flame of Bharatpur with me on the way out.”

  “That's impossible,” he said. “She has guards posted everywhere. There's no way you can take the Flame tonight without being caught out.”

  “Well,” I said, “then I guess I'll just have to stick around and marry her.”

  “No, wait,” said Rupert, lowering his head in thought for a minute. Finally he looked up. “I'll tell you what. Leave in the middle of the night like you planned, and go to Geoffrey Bainbridge's house. I'll remove the Flame of Bharatpur tomorrow when security isn't so tight, and have it delivered there before dark.”

  “I trust in human nature as much as any man,” I said, “but I'd rest a mite easier if you'd write me a letter saying that you gave me the Flame of Bharatpur in exchange for ending my courtship of Lady Edith. Just in case something happens to the Flame in the meantime.”

  Well, he hemmed and he hawed, but finally he sat down and wrote the letter, and I jotted down a note to Lady Edith, and a few hours later I was walking down the road to the hospital, which I reached just after daylight. They didn't want to let Bainbridge out, but when I told him that the Flame of Bharatpur was being delivered to his house that day nothing they could say could make him stay there, and finally his chauffeur drove up and packed us into the car.

  “I can't believe you got the Flame of Bharatpur in just one day!” said Bainbridge as we drove down the road toward his house.<
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  “Well, it's our little secret,” I said, after I'd told him the deal I'd made with Rupert Cornwall. “Lady Edith don't know nothing about it yet.”

  “I fully understand,” he replied. “What I plan to do is keep the Flame against the day when she regains her senses and sends the rascal packing.”

  “That's all well and good for you,” I said, “but what about me? After all, I'm the one who got Rupert to part with it.”

  “You will not go unrewarded, Doctor Jones.”

  “Good,” I said. “Because I figure half of the Flame of Bharatpur belongs to me, and that probably translates into three or four million pounds on the open market.”

  He turned and stared at me. “Are you crazy?” he said.

  “Okay,” I said agreeably. “I forgot there's a depression on. I'll settle for a million.”

  We reached Bainbridge's house, and suddenly the car screeched to a halt just before it ran into a pig that was munching some flowers at the edge of the driveway.

  “Looks like Rupert ain't been here yet,” I said, but I suddenly found I was talking to an empty seat, because Geoffrey Bainbridge had gotten out of the car and was kneeling, bandages and all, next to the pig, running his hand lovingly over its head.

  “Nice Sylvester,” he was crooning. “Sweet Sylvester.”

  “You know,” I said, climbing out of the car, “Lady Edith's got a pig called Sylvester that looks just like this one. Ain't that a striking coincidence?”

  “This is him,” said Bainbridge.

  “Yeah? What's he doing here?”

  “It means that Rupert Cornwall kept his word.”

  “What are you talking about?” I demanded.

  “Sylvester,” he said. “Champion The Flame of Bharatpur. He's won prizes in five different countries. Isn't he gorgeous?”

  “The Flame of Bharatpur is a pig?”

  “He's not merely a pig,” said Bainbridge. “He is the greatest swine I have ever seen!”

  Well, right at that moment I had my own opinions about the greatest swine I had ever seen, and Rupert Cornwall and Geoffrey Bainbridge were running neck-and-neck for the award. I couldn't go back and rekindle my romance with Lady Edith, because by now she'd read my note, and I didn't see Sylvester bringing no multi-million dollar price on the black market even if I could convince Bainbridge to part with him, and I'd spent every penny I had on tiger skins, so I decided then and there that I would take Bainbridge's reward and go to some country where folks wasn't so all-fired deceitful and an honest man of God could build a tabernacle and finally get around to doing some serious preaching.