Grim and Prim
by saintkitty and loxley85
URL: http://www.bluecatsgraphics.com/pean/fanfics/71/

as Transcribed by saintkitty (sk) and loxley85 (l85)

Part 1

Sir,

If you are arriving home late this evening, please remember to wash out your own snack plate. Do not leave it for me in the morning as Cheez-Whiz is deucedly difficult to remove after having sat all night in front of a warm fireplace.

I am marketing in the morning. We are out of Ho Ho’s, Newman’s Own Industrial Strength Spaghetti Sauce, and bourbon. Is there anything you prefer that I not replace? Please don’t say the bourbon as you know how you are when we run out of necessities.

Shall I walk Miss Constance in the park today? Yesterday, she tried to push a red-haired Homeless Person under a bus. Thankfully, he bounced as he was rather wired. Made the children cry, however.

As I was cleaning out the backseat of the Wraith, I found a pair of turquoise lace panties balled up in the corner. Please let me know to which lady (?) they belong so that I may personally return them as they are of rather good quality. Unlike some of the things I find balled up in a corner of the Wraith. If you cannot remember/do not know the owner’s name, I will, of course, add them to your ever-growing Orphaned Panties collection.

You are missing several of your marbles from the Chinese Checkers game. Were you pinging them through the mail slot at the paperboy again?

Have a very good evening. That strange woman with the British accent called again. As you suggested, I informed her that you were in Tibet. She wanted to know which racetrack and did you have any tips on a horse. Must I speak with her again? Please advise.

Your devoted,
Proctor  (sk)



Proctor,

I do apologize about the Cheez Wiz on the snack plate. That was used by one of my guests and we got somewhat distracted with the can and the spray nozzle. It rather tickles when you — never mind. Sincere apologies, I will try not to let that happen again.

Please do not replace the Ho Ho’s unless you can find a better hiding place. I only got one the last time, but did find telltale crumbs and a scrap of a wrapper in Constance’s chair by the fireplace; no one needs to eat nine Ho Ho’s in one sitting, as I remember that was a new box. Of course we need more bourbon. That is a given. We are also low on sherry, scotch, sake, gin, tequilla, white wine, and that new Shiraz you found the last time you went out. Oh, please get a six-pack in case Vincent drops in as he has been threatening to do. And if you could find it in you to procure just a little more absinthe...? And I forgot — we need to replace two of the emergency candles. There may be a bit of wax on the floor of the bedroom, although I think it has all been cleaned up.

Constance tried to push a homeless person under a bus? Most assuredly that was the result of her sugar levels. She might prefer it if you drove her somewhere, perhaps the MOMA, and took your walk through the museum instead. I do believe our membership there is up to date. However, please try to keep her out of the museum gift store. Her obsession with those stuffed figures of The Scream is a bit alarming, to say the least, and the store will not accept returns on them.

My dear man, please dispose of any panties you find in the Wraith in any way you see fit. I have neither the time nor the energy to try to connect every stray pair of panties, thongs, or bikini briefs with the original owner. Finders keepers, what? Oh, but someone did inquire about a pair of fur-lined handcuffs, as they are his favorite. Please do keep an eye out for them and put them aside if you will? There’s a good man.

You may as well toss the Chinese Checkers game. I have found that regular checkers actually work better.

Incidentally, the waterfall is a bit eccentric. We did try to remove the last remnants of the feather boa from the works, but I fear in our haste we may have missed an inch or two. Please do look into that for me. If need be, I believe we still have that card from Discreet Plumbing and Gushing.

Regarding the woman with the British accent — apparently neither of us wishes to take that call, eh? I know the last time you told her I was dead, she asked if she could call back in the morning. It is remarkable she understands how to place a long-distance phone call in the first place. I admit I am at a loss. Dear Proctor, you have always been masterful at watching my back. Please accept my carte blanche to deal with this particular problem in any way you like. The usual precautions, however. And do not get caught.

Please tell Constance I will join her for dinner tonight. And Proctor, let’s have a normal meal? The roe would be fine. Or perhaps pheasant. I would prefer not to sit down with Constance as she is “chowing down on Whoppers” as she puts it.

Gratefully,
AXL Pendergast  (l85)



Dear Sir,

Thank you for informing me that you had a guest the other evening. I was wondering how the Cheez-Whiz managed to find its way to the chandelier.

I have replenished the liquor cabinet. There was a sale on SoCo so I imbibed in quite a bit. I fear we will have to find a new establishment from which to purchase our potables. The clerk, who is rather heavily endowed by the way, has begun making nasty little comments under his breath regarding the fact that it is our weekly business that is keeping the rent paid. Shall you take care of him, Sir, or shall I? I did not need to purchase more absinthe, as, if you will look, you will find that it is nicely stored in the rec room. Of, course, after you entertained there the last time, I finally realized why it is called a rec room.

They were out of Ho Ho’s so I purchased Twinkies. Miss Constance does not eat them so, hopefully, you will get more than one. I got Ding Dong’s for her anyway. And Hostess Cupcakes. And Pinwheels. And, of course, Oreos. Please do not touch her cookies. She will know. She ALWAYS knows.

Thank you for informing me that you had another guest the other evening. I was wondering how the candle wax managed to find its way under your bed. Thank you for the attempt at cleaning up, Sir, but in the future, please leave it to me. I had quite a problem reclaiming the remains of the emergency candles from your toilet. A word here about KY Jelly. It is almost impossible to clean from wooden banisters and leather belts.

Miss Constance refuses to ride in the Wraith, and I hesitate to put her in a taxi. We took the train to Timmy Ho’s where she wished to dine, but I will not do that again. She kept kicking the Homeless Persons and screaming, “I know you’re here somewhere, you bastard!” I was quite alarmed. I did not know that Miss Constance had an illegitimate Homeless Person in her family whom she was trying desperately to find. We will be walking to Grant’s Tomb instead. Nice and cheery.

I am terribly sorry, Sir. Lieutenant D’Agosta has already reclaimed his handcuffs. And the six-pack. Thank you for the offer of the panties, Sir, but I have already placed them in your collection. They are in the cabinet next to the push-up brassieres. Would you like to have them arranged by size or color or both? Please advise.

Did you by any chance remove the spare clips for the Glock?

The waterfall is back on track. I did not find any of the boa; just a remnant of a black fishnet stocking. What was left of the boa was in the freezer.

As you have requested, I have laid in a generous supply of checkers, but may I suggest Tiddly Winks? They have a tendency to draw blood. And if I may also add, the paperboy is paid on Thursdays. He has sent a letter asking me to inform you that he does not take bank drafts.

I have informed Miss Constance that you will be dining with her this evening. She wanted to prepare Steak in the Grass for you, but I was not sure if I should let her near the meat mallet. She is thinking only of your health though, I must say, as she specifically asked me to load up on the spinach just for your portion alone.

The British Lady called again. Fifteen times. I tried my Chinese accent on her but to no avail. All she did was ramble on about free egg rolls. She also keeps asking for Pricker. Who’s Pricker? Sounds like a friend of your brother’s. Next time I will let Miss Constance answer. Speaking of your brother, Miss Constance did mutter something I couldn’t quite catch about your brother having a whopper. Does he frequent fast food joints?

A Miss Bambi called for you. She wanted to know if you preferred Little Bo Peep or Scarlett O’Hara tomorrow. I presume this is the lady you had mentioned who recently joined your literary discussion group?

Proctor  (sk)



My dear Proctor,

Please feel free to deal with the liquor store clerk as you see fit. I don’t frequent liquor stores very often (preferring bars if I am out, as you know) so you would know best in this situation. SoCo? My dear man, that stuff will kill you. Thank you for the heads-up on the absinthe — can’t think how I missed it. Oh, perhaps it was the blindfold. Sorry about the mess in there, old man. Couldn’t quite see, at the time.

I do understand about Constance and the Oreos and have not even looked at them since the last time she caught me with my hand literally in the cookie jar. I must say, good job we got all the pokers and umbrellas put away, but we did miss the oversized barbecue tongs. It was quite a time disarming her. Amazing how quickly she can move in those rather cumbersome frocks she wears.

Also, regrets about the toilet and thank you for seeing to that. As for the KY jelly, unfortunately we ran out and made do with the Vaseline which probably explains the difficulty with the wood banisters. Sincere apologies again.

Grant’s Tomb would be a very appropriate walk for Constance, as she might actually have some living memory of the man, somewhere. As for the attacks upon homeless people, I am quite at a loss. We may have to confine her outdoor activity to Aunt Cornelia’s grounds again. What a pity. I was hoping dear Constance would adapt more easily to the streets of New York. Perhaps they have changed too much since she last frequented them. By the way — what was that about a plane ticket to Italy and a Beretta you found in her cloak pocket?

Lt. D’Agosta has already reclaimed the handcuffs and the six-pack? I don’t mind about the cuffs — pink fur is not really my preference. However, I am most disappointed that he simply took the six-pack and left. I had so been hoping for an evening with him. Ahhh, Captain Hayward must be back from her little sojourn to Washington. Hmmm. We shall have to work around that. Please do tell me immediately if he should call on the private line.

Proctor, you know I never touch your spare clips for the Glock, any more than you play with my clips for the Les Baer. Really, I don’t know where you are using all your ammunition these days. Perhaps I would prefer not to know? (Little joke there, nothing more).

I have never heard of anyone named Pricker. Are you sure this is the same British woman? Perhaps Pricker is someone in Diogenes’ establishment, in which case the fellow can hardly be of our concern. If she calls back, please tell her to find her Pricker at someone else’s abode since we obviously don’t have one for her here.

Oh dear, I had hoped Ms. Bambi would have been a little too happy the other night to remember my number. Now why on earth didn’t I give her a fake one? Dash my constant honesty. Proctor, Ms. Bambi is no member of any literary group. She is a woman with decidedly strange tastes which, while amusing once in a great while (perhaps every fifteen to twenty years) are not something I wish to make a regular habit. Little Bo Peep? Scarlett O’Hara? Enough to curdle one’s blood. When I met her it was all Mata Hari and the dance of the seven veils. She was using scarves, and I like scarves very much, as you know, but enough is enough. Please tell Ms. Bambi that I have left town for the next several months and she can bestow her veils and her sheep on anyone else she pleases.

Proctor, do be kind and let’s have the steak tartare for dinner on Thursday. I have been having cravings for something quite raw.

Gratefully,
AXL Pendergast  (l85)



Sir,

The liquor store clerk has been dealt with. Appropriately. Thank you for the opportunity of handling the matter in my own small way. It’s surprising how difficult a body can be to understand when it is trying to scream at you through six feet of water.

I thought only to replenish the SoCo as I know how much you enjoy using it to soften up your Raisin Bran. You keep telling me that there’s nothing like cardboard, rotten grapes, and Southern cow piss to start a man’s day properly. Shall I replace it with the bourbon, your usual breakfast drink?

Blindfold? Is that what the black panties were? Thank you for the clarification. They are now residing in the Orphaned Panties collection. Sometimes, Sir, I fear you give new meaning to the old saying “bagged and tagged”, but that was your week off.

My deepest apologies for forgetting about the barbeque tongs. I was quite busy stopping Miss Constance from placing cans of Pepsi in socks, smashing the hall table lamps with them, and screaming, “Diamonds are not a girl’s best friend,” that I completely missed them. Sir, you are entirely too humble. I’m sure disarming Miss Constance was fairly easy knowing your ability to solve a problem once you get your hands on it.

Perhaps, Sir, the next time you run out of KY jelly you may want to give olive oil a try. We seem to have an extremely large surplus of it around. Speaking of which, the Wraith needs a lube job and oil change. Please don’t trouble yourself about taking it in. After the last time you did, there were some rather unsightly grease prints on the back seat. I had a very difficult time cleaning them from that glossy white interior. Not to mention the time I had getting rid of Bruce the Mechanic, who insisted that his service included a house call to rotate your tires.

I don’t know about President Grant, but Miss Constance saw a letter I had received with a return address of Buffalo. She then proceeded to regale me with all sorts of stories about McKinley’s assassination. It seems that TR was a personal favorite. She is doing much better “on the outside”. We had a lovely walk to DQ with nary a problem. Re: the ticket to Italy and the Beretta: Miss Constance said that the ticket was part of your birthday gift, but when she thought about “what was open before you,” she canceled it and bought the Beretta. She said she thought it would come in much more handily. I am, however, a tad concerned that she wishes to bake your cake.

By the way, Sir. She counts the Oreos. Forewarned is forearmed. Eat the Twinkies.

Lt. D’Agosta had waited quite sometime before he left that day, Sir. As a matter of fact, he was quite perturbed when he left. He had polished off more of the six-pack then I thought decent for a cop on duty, but I remained my usual tight-lipped self. I left his message on your desk. It was something to the effect that if you wanted him, you’d know where to find him. It seems that the good Captain is visiting relatives in Jersey.

I cannot understand what happened to my clips. That last time I used them was down in the target practice room. You know, it’s amazing the feeling you get down there sometimes of having eyes on the back of your head.

Believe me. It was the same British woman. She called several times again today. I tried telling her that this number was for a body shop, and she insisted on an appointment for a facial. I offered her a free lube job. We really do have a lot of that quite nasty olive oil. I sincerely hope she doesn’t show up next Thursday at 2:00. If I have to talk to her again, I will tell her you are in critical condition after being in an avalanche in Florida. Your coma is expected to last for months.

No Miss Bambi. Check.

A lady named Miss Barbie Doll has left several messages. She wanted to assure you that “they are so real”. (?) Under the circumstances, I feel that I must investigate this one for you so I will be doing some undercover work this evening.

Steak Tartar it shall be, Sir. Usually, when you request that dish, you have a guest coming. Am I setting the table for two? Just in case you and your guest are feeling a bit frisky, I will lay aside a goodly quantity of KY jelly; especially if you’re feeling raw.

Please let me know what the rather viscous substance is that I found clinging to the front parlor drapes. Do we need the haz mat team again?

Please be advised that the paperboy has quit.

Proctor (sk)

Part 2

Proctor,

Re: the liquor store clerk, remember our motto. Don’t get caught.

I think I may have to change my Raisin Bran/SoCo routine. It’s time for a change. How about starting out tomorrow with your excellent Eggs Benedict and a nice shot of Jack D? That should be the ticket. Just a little glass next to the green tea, if you would be so kind.

Apparently you have never tried disarming Constance when she has a pair of barbecue tongs in one hand and a rolling pin in the other. A word of warning: the timing between blows is rather like jumping double dutch in jump rope. The woman is a veritable threshing machine, so if a similar situation should arise, do watch your back. As well as your head, you ribs, your arms, and everything else within her reach.

I am glad you will be able to run the Wraith in for its service. Although it can have its diversions there are so many other things I must be doing.

Speaking of which, my dear Proctor, black suit #11A seems to have sprung some sort of tear or hole in the lining. I have already lost two lock picks and a few spare vials. Please check it for me when you get a chance, and if you have time, you might as well take a look at black suits 9C, 9D, 10F, and 11E as well. Perhaps it is time for me to go back to the tailor and have another series made up? I could actually do with three or so more of the winter black. And the summer black simply falls to tatters much too quickly.

As long as we are on the subject, please also order me another two pair of shoes. The heel compartment in the S3 pair is coming loose.

My dear Proctor, what are you thinking? Replacing KY jelly with Vaseline is one thing, but that olive oil? I cannot imagine something that could take the shine off the evening quite so quickly... Perhaps we do need Haz Mat to take a look and see if they can dispose of that for us.

Please do not worry about the viscous material on the front parlor drapes. It had to do with disguises... Haz Mat is not necessary — perhaps spirit gum will do the trick? I would be happy to try that for you.

Ms. Barbie Doll? Hmmmmm. I must confess I have no recollection on that, but never mind. You go undercover as you like, Proctor, and find out everything you need to know. Will you be needing the palm camera again? I think it’s in the pocket of suit 8C.

I will look up the good lieutenant as I am sorry to have missed him. I hope he doesn’t carry on the way he sometimes does. Rather wrinkles the suit.

I look forward to the stear tartare, and no, no guests that night. I would like to eat the entire thing myself!

Gratefully,
AXL Pendergast



Sir,

Re: Don’t get caught. I was quite circumspect with my actions. Besides, no one believable ever hangs around the City Reservoir during the evening hours.

I would be most happy to prepare Eggs Benedict for your breakfast tomorrow. Are you sure you wouldn’t like the bourbon in a little orange juice? Vitamin C, you know. As Miss Constance seems to have developed a liking for Spam straight from the can, which she refers to as “Oink in Aspic”, I have none left to serve with your eggs. I do, however, have some lovely Jimmy Dean’s Pork Sausage patties in the freezer that she hasn’t found yet.

Please stop leaving the empty Chicken Nuggets box out in plain sight. Miss Constance saw it and threw a rather large hissy fit at your not bringing her home a Big Mac and large fries. She proceeded to outline in great detail all of the things she really wanted that she had never received from your family. Then she muttered something about a little present she had received that she wasn’t too happy about. Did you give Miss Constance bikini panties again? By the way, where on earth did she get a whiffle bat? They really hurt.

Sir, I will see to your suits as soon as I find ANOTHER cleaner. It seems that you left a syringe filled with God-only-knows-what in one of the faux pockets, and the cleaner jabbed himself with it. He’s been in a coma for two weeks, and they can’t seem to get rid of the rash. Please try to be more cautious in the future, as we are running out of cleaners in Upper Manhattan. It seems that stories spread. Please remember to put the Looney Tunes tie in the cleaner bag. It seems to have garnered some rather unusual stains. I’m not going there again, Sir.

I do think it would behoove you to take a little jaunt to London to have a new series of suits made up. Your jackets seem to be getting a tad, well, snug. Not enough material in them I would imagine. Speaking of shoes, which are on back order by the way, I cannot find your slipper socks with the Batman face. I realize that you enjoy going barefoot, but as Winter approaches, the floors in the cellars are getting colder. You certainly don’t want the piggies getting arthritic.

The only things I found in the pocket of suit 8C was a sequined thong with matching pasties.

Thank you for the offer, Sir, but, as I had my hands full with Miss Doll, I had no need for the camera. Since she is quite an unusual woman, I have determined that I will need to explore the situation much more carefully. She certainly seems to need some guidance as she is always getting herself into some very disarming positions. I have arranged to meet her after work this evening. I believe she is a firefighter as she has mentioned “sliding down the pole” several times.

Miss Constance and I took our daily constitutional down to Dunkin’ Donuts today. It was a rather disturbing experience.

A Mr. Fuzzy Wuzzy Bear phoned. I gave him the number for FAO Schwartz.

Guess what called again today? I gave her the story about you being caught in an avalanche in Florida, but she didn’t fall for it. Seems this is not hurricane season and the only time they have avalanches in Florida is during hurricane season. Is this some sort of test, Sir? If not, then may I suggest that the Reservoir is quite large?

Sorry to disappoint you, Sir, but no Steak Tartare as the hamburger has gone missing. How about a nice tuna casserole instead? I’ll put crushed corn flakes on the top.

Oh, yes. Agent Coffey called. He said to tell “that pale-assed Cracker” to return his call asap. I passed his number on to your brother.

Have a good day, Sir.
Proctor  (sk)



Dear Proctor:

Another cleaners? How dreary. I cannot keep track of them as they come and go. Perhaps we ought to look into buying our own and training the staff. It’s a thought.

I have seen Constance with the Spam cans (shudder). I am amazed she was able to identify it as “Oink.” Perhaps I shall never tell her what the analysis I did back when I was a child told me about the product. I will take a pass on the sausages, however, though I thank you for the kind offer. And straight orange juice will be fine. Just the shot next to it and the tea would be sublime.

The Chicken Nuggets were not mine, but obviously I need to be more careful about picking up. Ahh, Proctor, I did not give Constance any more bikini underwear. Apparently she does not like my taste in these things. I rather thought 10 pair of basic black would go with everything but apparently she likes colors. Never mind. But my dear Proctor, you bring up the topic of underwear quite a lot — — are you sure that collection you have labeled for me isn’t really for you? Dear man, I stopped collecting trophy underwear somewhere in high school. Or maybe Harvard. Or Oxford. Certainly before I went to Quantico. I think. However, you may collect these things as you like, of course, but I really don’t pay much mind any longer After all, it’s not the underwear that gets my full attention.

I have no idea where Constance found a whiffle bat, but am sorry for your pain. Er, what is a whiffle bat?

I am sure that Agent Coffey and my brother will find each other to be quite entertaining. An inspired decision, Proctor. Well done.

Regarding the British-sounding woman who keeps calling, I am currently having Mime put together a phone trap that will recognize her number, or if need be her voice, and send the call elsewhere. What is your preference? Finland? Okinawa? The QVC channel? Perhaps we can have him route it to the Pentagon and they can figure out a way to stop her. When I described the problem to Mime he chortled, actually, and offered to see what he could do. I suggest we stand back and wait for his solution. It should be quite interesting!

Fuzzy Wuzzy Bear? Are we on some kind of bizarre telemarketing list? Or is that the Hasty Pudding Club pestering us again? It is enough to make me resign my alum status at Harvard.

Well, good man, I request you procure a reasonable supply of ground beef in the near future. The craving has not gone away and no one handles my meat quite like you! Please keep the steak tartare near the top of your planned menu list.

My suits fit quite well, thank you very much. If they are snug anywhere, it is at the shoulders, due to my recent spate of weight training. Also, the new shoulder holster tends to make the buttons more difficult to fasten.

Oh, if Captain Hayward should call and mention it, please tell her that could not possibly have been me with Vincent in the back of that cab as I have actually been in Alaska the past several days...

Gratefully,
AXL Pendergast  (l85)



Sir,

I have found a new cleaner as recommended by a good friend of mine who is currently employed by the CIA. They seem to do very good work, but there certainly are many strange people wandering in and out of the back room.

I hope you are satisfied with the morning beverages I set out for you. Orange juice, tea, and bourbon. That should most certainly start your day off properly.

Sir, if the stray panties were my doing, I certainly would not bother you with them. Perhaps you were too busy at the time to notice what you were flinging madly in all directions. The fact of the matter is that there is a LARGE collection of feminine undergarments in the trophy room. Miss Constance does not wear spangles, sequins, or lacy brasseries and panties. Nor does Wren. Nor does Lt. D’Ag.....Well. Neither do I. That leaves your companions, as it were. I will, of course, rid you of the debris of your dating life. By the way, Sir. I seem to remember you bragging one evening when you had sampled too much of the Christmas egg nog which you had insisted on fortifying with a rather heavy touch of Crown Royal. It seems that you had won the “Lost Panties” competition among the gentlemen agents at Quantico by collecting more of those items in a month than any other agent in the history of the FBI. I believe you had a great deal of difficulty walking up to receive your trophy.

A whiffle bat is a plastic baseball bat. I do believe the paperboy dropped it.

As far as your “friends” names go, Sir. I really have nothing to do with who calls you. I only take messages, but I will be happy to state in the future that you have gone to Greenland on a study tour and won’t be back for months. Perhaps a change in the clubs you frequent would help?

Please, Sir!!! Please, please have Mime work quickly!!!!! She called 17 times today!!!! I am tired of being told that slavery was a much better idea for handling servants.

Sir, I have laid in a new supply of meat for you. Some nice ground steak. As Miss Constance seems to be eating only beef burritos with sides of beans here lately, I feel that your meat is perfectly safe with me. Oh, and thank you for the compliment. I do try and put as much sizzle into your skillet as I possibly can.

Weight training and new shoulder holster. Check.

Actually, Dr. Pendergast, Captain Hayward rather enjoys talking to me. When she calls, she always tells me that she gets a big kick out of my stories.

Must run as Miss Constance is quite anxious to get to the Grand Opening of the new Arby’s around the corner. Seems she’s rather interested in the jalapeno poppers.

Regards,
Proctor

PS: I am requesting the long weekend off as I have a matter which needs a lot of attention right now in the western part of the state.  (sk)



My dear Proctor:

The new cleaning establishment sounds perfect. Excellent work. I hope they can get those stains out of my ties.

Ah, Proctor, Proctor, Proctor. I am really trying to put the trophy panty collecting into the past, Quantico notwithstanding. It would behoove me to move past that a bit, I think, at this stage in my career and my life. Not, mind you, that I think that sort of thing beneath me. Quite the contrary. However, perhaps a bit more discretion would be appropriate at this time. The collection shall stay as is and I shall try to be a bit more careful about placing items, as opposed to flinging things about. Sorry about the ones that turn up in the pockets. You do still wear gloves to go through my clothing, don’t you? Good man.

Have you seen my Scooby Doo slippers anywhere?

Oh, the paperboy. I caught sight of our new one. Rather a larger target, I must say. Perhaps I will rise early enough to meet him tomorrow.

Thank you for the beverages at breakfast. They were exactly as ordered. As for the Eggs Benedict, regrettably I seem to have gotten a spot of Hollandaise on the lapel of F9. I hung it over the bathroom door to dry after trying to Shout it out — perhaps you could have that run down to the cleaners as well? Thank you.

Captain Hayward enjoys your stories? Do tell, Proctor, what exactly are these stories you are regaling Captain Hayward with? If you are still going on about the stray rhinestone studded, 44DDD cup brassiere that mysteriously turned up in the glove box of the Wraith, or about that time in the elevator of the Dakota with that Museum intern and the spiked heels, my dear man, you do need to find some new material, as it were. You know how I am relying on your discretion. I hope you have not mentioned the good Lieutenant’s handcuffs. I have just the inking that Captain Hayward would not find that story quite so amusing.

Mime is doing his level best to solve our current phone problem. Unfortunately he made the mistake of listening in on the calls the past several days and had to lie down with a severe migraine and upset stomach He assures me it will pass and that he is spending the time mentally working on different solutions he hopes will end the issue. Patience, Proctor, patience!

Incidentally, I am running low on my supply of handkerchiefs. I don’t claim to understand this, but they seem a bit scarce as of late. Any hope that you could put in a special order for them? You know the kind of silk I prefer. Much appreciated.

Also, I do understand your need for a break and if you have to go west, well, then, of course you should go. What on earth you find to do in a place like Buffalo is beyond me but I have just the faintest idea that your activities are rather more indoor than outdoor. Even behind closed doors. With several locks and a soundproof room. Ahem. I am not trying to pry and your concerns are your own of course. May I expect you back to have my breakfast Monday morning? I am not complaining but when Constance takes over the cooking, I find myself frequently setting out for the day and catching breakfast and probably dinner outside of the home. Burritos and beans, chili dogs, and Tuna Helper are just not quite palatable to me, unfortunately.

Oh, and Proctor, when you return may we please have the steak tartare for dinner?

Gratefully,
AXL Pendergast  (l85)

Part 3

Sir,

I am quite sure that you will be elated to hear that our former dry cleaner has come out of his coma. However, they are still working on the rash. And the webbing growing between his third and fourth fingers. On both hands.

I am quite sure that, at your age, Sir, trophy panty collecting should be on the wane. However, as gentlemen do so love their sports, I expect your participation to continue happily for many years. I am never without gloves while handling your items. While we are on the subject, would you like me to have Thelma iron your rather large collection of scarves? The last ones I untangled from your bedposts are rather wrinkled as are the ones I untied from the door handles of the Wraith. In the same vein, if you would stop writing phone numbers down on your handkerchiefs then passing them on to others, you wouldn’t be losing so many. I have already sent for them. They are on backorder. Please be aware that I have placed a travel-sized packet of Pond’s Make Up Remover Sheets in the liquor cabinet of the Wraith. It is conveniently located next to the half-empty bottle of absinthe. So much more chic than your shirt sleeves.

Your Scooby slippers are under the “entertainment” center in the library.

Please leave the new paperboy alone, Sir. We are running out of them. This one left a flaming paper bag on the front porch yesterday. When I ran out to stamp out the flames, I discovered the bag was full of dog feces. It was a rather unpleasant experience. I think the billiard balls would be a much better option than marbles for this particular young man, come to think of it.

Thank you for attempting to clean the spot from jacket F9, Sir. Please don’t do it again.

Captain Hayward enjoys the stories I tell her concerning your whereabouts on any particular day that she calls. I, Sir, do NOT tell tales out of school, as it were. FOR INSTANCE, I have not told her about your little piccadillo with that rather brawny crossing guard down near St. Mary’s School. Although offering to toss her a few balls was amusing, I don’t think the Captain would appreciate it. I did not tell her about the time you and the Lt. decided to play “Hide-And-Go-Seek” on the upper floors of the manse, and no one heard from either of you again for several days. I have NEVER resorted to amusing others with any stories of your “adventures”. Not even those two writers who are always hanging around outside. You hurt my feelings.

Speaking of aggravating, that olive person called again. She’s losing her touch or her interest I’m afraid as she called only 11 times today. I gave her your brother’s number.

Thank you for the v-time, Sir. I shall return late that Sunday evening. You would be quite pleasantly surprised at the rather fascinating comings and goings in Buffalo. Quite the place to take a load off, as it were. I shan’t bother you with the long and short of it, but I have found a nice tight place in which to unbend and am always given a wide open reception.

I will leave boil-in-the-bag dinners for you, Sir. Miss Constance is eating raw these days. I will prepare Steak Tartare for you on Monday. If I can still walk.

Proctor  (sk)



Proctor,

Thank you for the update on our former dry cleaner. If there is going to be a problem about a lawsuit, please let me know so we can nip this in the bud. Somewhere between a settlement, getting the hospital bills, and keeping it quiet for the sake of national security ought to work.

Oh, the scarves. What a bother. I rarely notice them when not in use. If you would be so good as to unfasten and clean all of them, including the Wraith (better check the trunk as well) I would be appreciative of having them restored to their non-wrinkled state. Just please leave the usual clean stash of them in the usual places. Oh, as for the makeup cloths. That is a very nice touch. I will do my best to remember they are there, though remembering one’s own name during certain, ah, activities, can even be quite the challenge.

I am glad to hear about my Scooby slippers and will fetch them forthwith. She really wanted them but I refused to give them up. One must have some limits.

Billiard balls on the paper boy? My dear Proctor, what an extravagance. I should think simple rocks would suffice. On the other hand, what was that you said about tiddly winks? I was really thinking checkers. I have a wrist rocket I’ve owned since childhood and I was just thinking about pulling it out and dusting it off.

A thousand apologies, dear man, for hurting your feelings. You are quite right, of course, that you have always been the complete embodiment of discretion. However, it did put my mind at ease when you explained to me what you have been telling Captain Hayward to amuse her. And we have writers hanging about again? (sigh). It is most unfortunate that no one has ever invented any sort of Writer-Be-Gone or Pesty Scribe Spray for that particular sort of nuisance. Pray tell, Proctor, um, what gender are they?

I have spoken to Mime and he hopes to get a phone trap prototype up and running this weekend while you are out west. I was hoping to surprise you with deafening silence as the phone finally stops ringing, but perhaps you will enjoy the information and thus relax even more on your vacation. Mime has decided to route her calls randomly among any number of different locations. He will bounce the signal through two satellites and approximately seventeen different countries, and they will wind up possibly at my brother’s manse on the island, Agent Coffey’s cell phone, the Republican National Headquarters, three of the larger health insurance customer services lines, and the Department of Motor Vehicles in any of the 48 contiguous United States. Hopefully this will solve the problem, what? We shall see.

At any event, my good man, you sound absolutely pleasure-bound for the weekend. Do call if something comes up and you cannot get away in time for Monday’s breakfast. Not being able to walk is quite a good excuse and one I most assuredly understand. I will hear from you when you return, I trust, all in one peace, sound, happy, and healthy. After all, Proctor, nothing keeps a good man down.

Gratefully,
ALX Pendergast  (l85)



Sir,

I do believe that handling the dry cleaner’s little health problem is quite beyond us at this point. I managed to make a small visit to his hospital room yesterday and was quite surprised to find it sealed, under quarantine, and a haz mat guard at the door. The gentleman in question seems to be doing well except for the rash, webbing, and the unfortunate gills he seems to have opening in his neck. Will keep you posted on this one. Thankfully I use an assumed name for your cleaning. This particular fellow had us down as Hillary Clinton.

I have checked everywhere I could possibly think of for any stray scarves. I believe I have them all although the ones hanging from your shower curtain rod almost escaped me. To that end, I have left the usual piles where you may readily access them should the need arise. What would you like me to do with the six near empty bottles of flavored body oil I found in the First Aid Kit in the Wraith?

Please, Sir. Try and remember the make up remover sheets. It is bloody hell trying to get Joan Rivers’ products out of your shirt sleeves.

As you have observed, Sir, this paperboy is quite large. Tiddly winks or checkers may not suffice. However, perhaps dropping a light bulb behind him from the second story window? Or maybe a water balloon filled with God-only-knows-what? Perhaps you could put your wrist rocket to much better effect with the power company meter reader (male).

Your apologies are accepted. The writers I mentioned are the same two who are always hanging around. I wasn’t sure at first of the gender as they both seem to have quite a fascination for wearing rather distressful Hawaiian print shirts, but I do believe they are both men. One of them keeps screaming something about a child, but I’m not sure what as I try not to get close enough to hear them. “Writer-Be-Gone”. Very good, Sir.

I have a rather sick feeling that The British Person is not going to be deterred by phone calls. Perhaps you should “put your big girl panties on and deal with it”, as it were. I would think Miss Constance might enjoy a little jaunt to Crapia or Crepepaper or whatever. Under no circumstances, should you decide to accept this mission, should you go unaccompanied. God only knows what may lie ahead for you there, or what you might have to say to get her off your back. Are you really sure that you don’t care to reconsider the Reservoir?

While I am gone this weekend, please remember to walk Miss Constance regularly. DO NOT LET HER NEAR “OLIVE GARDEN”. They have a “never-ending pasta bowl” special this month which we tried last week. I cannot tell you what a debacle that was.

Off to Buffalo. As you say, I am certainly looking forward to the piece. I do, though, expect that certain aspects will be going down quite a bit.

Proctor  (sk)



My dear Proctor,

You are currently out west and will not read this for another 36 hours (I am counting them down, good man) but I had to write regardless. I need a little sanity time.

You may toss the flavored body oil. It was just a phase. The body temp oils have turned out to be more fun and don’t lead to quite so many stomach upsets. Believe me, nothing ruins an evening like having your partner upchuck chocolate or blueberry body oil in the middle of... Well, you understand.

I will dutifully try to remember the make-up removing sheets. As for the Joan Rivers products, sincere apologies on that. That was a one-time try at playing with Kobuki theatre meets high fashion model. Believe me, not likely to happen again. Although the camera work was most interesting.

I scoped out the paperboy this morning and am thinking about the situation. I have not yet decided what to do but I will most definitely alert you if the games should begin.

Ah, I have seen the two gentlemen with the Hawaiian print shirts. When they were outside the Dakota I assumed they were there for the whole John Lennon thing. When I spotted them across the street from the manse I realized I was probably the target and had feared they were CIA or Homeland Security, or worse, some errant branch of Jehovah’s Witnesses. Writers, eh? Well, I don’t understand the draw but as long as they don’t start playing ding-dong ditch or heaving things at the windows, perhaps they will be more like the fans we sometimes collect outside and across the street. If they can refrain from pestering me, I can continue to ignore them. Although I must admit those shirts are quite eye-catching. And one of them reminds me so much of someone I know...

My dear man, I am hardly about to cross the Atlantic to go to Capraia. I have been there twice, and that is quite enough. However, I want you to know that after the first two hours this morning (and approximately 29 phone calls) Mime’s trap went into effect and at least for today has worked beautifully. I have seen Diogenes and Agent Coffey’s numbers pop up on my caller ID at least a dozen times between them so I take it they are getting some of the calls. Splendid! Excellent! I shall have to congratulate Mime with something extravagant. He has earned it. However, do not trouble yourself about the duration of this. I am thinking of sending the Lady a surprise ticket — to Diogenes. I am certain she would love to help nurse him back to health, just the way he did for me. The more I think on it, the better the idea gets. I merely need to work out a few details.

Constance and I did two separate walks today. The first was on the property of Aunt Cornelia and was quite lovely and relaxing. She enjoyed shredding handfuls of wildflowers and trampling down any number of sprouting plants. However, our second walk was in Central Park and was quite the experience. Luckily you had told me about the Homeless Person reflex she seems to have developed and I was able to save at least five people from being kicked and at least one from having his neck snapped. For someone who is in a rather delicate state and wears such demure frocks, the young woman fights like an angry Brahmin bull. When our walk began to resemble a cage match on the WWE Smackdown, I had to curtail the rest of the distance and bring her back to the house. Good heavens, dear man, perhaps we need to get her a treadmill and a handful of travel DVDs. I am seriously considering it.

My dear Proctor, I am glad you are on vacation and doubtless reenergizing and coming back up to your old self, as it were, but I shall feel much better upon your return. The household does not function nearly so well in your absence. Constance had been more helpful at one point, but I am afraid that tonight she has locked herself into her room with some very odd movies (“Kill Bill 1 & 2”? “The Punisher”? “I’m Gonna Git You, Sucka”??), a box of Ding Dongs, and an entire new package of Oreos. I asked her if she would like some dinner but she merely sniffed at me and said she was quite capable of fending for herself seeing as how she has been doing so for approximately 100 or so years, and that was that. Proctor, it is not often that she plays the age card. I admit I am concerned.

I will be very happy when you are back here in the heart of our household where you belong.

Gratefully,
AXL Pendergast

PS The dye from a pair of scarlet and purple harem pants seems to have stained the shower stall. I did try to get rid of most of it using the Comet and some Soft Scrub with bleach and believe I did quite a good job of it. Just wanted to give you a heads-up.  (l85)



Sir,

Sorry, I am late returning, but I missed my flight and had to wait for the next kite. It sounds like you had quite the weekend. Really, Sir, a little household stress is no reason to go gonzo on the library chandelier again. I see the new bottle of Jack D. has been completed as has been half a bottle of scotch. I haven’t dared to look at the absinthe. I would truly appreciate it if you could find something lower to the ground to shoot instead of the candles in the chandelier. Were you shooting skeets with the Spode again, Sir?

Miss Constance has informed me that you had to have Cocoa Puffs for breakfast this morning. Dr. Pendergast, there is absolutely no reason that you cannot boil yourself an egg and make yourself some toast on cold mornings. Although lacing your Cocoa Puffs with brandy does sound fairly appetizing. But back to the pint, er point. For some reason, people seem to think that you are a gourmet chef. I have no idea how that particular rumor started, but nuking Pizza Pockets in the microwave is not gourmet. You really need to take a few minutes to learn to cook simple things for yourself. I am quite sure that Miss Constance would very much enjoy teaching you the basics of wielding a knife in the kitchen.

Speaking of the kitchen, were you entertaining again, Sir? I have found a pair of green thongs wrapped around the whipped cream can and one leg from a pair of stockings in the garbage disposal. Please try and be more careful, Sir, as the repairman can be quite expensive although he has told me on a number of occasions that he would be happy to pay to come out on our calls. It certainly is gladdening to find a service repair person who has a bit of old fashioned courtesy and pride in his work, I must say.

I had quite an interesting conversation with the paperboy’s mother this morning. It seems that her son is doing a little R&R at Harper’s Ferry so she has taken over the route. Rather a lovely lady. I am assisting her on her route tomorrow morning in the Wraith. I will be back by breakfast time. Perhaps.

The writer who reminds you of someone is the one who keeps screaming about the child. I know what you mean about the resemblance. Looks quite a bit like your brother only with blonde hair. The height and build are about right; rather hot I might add. Please be aware that the dark one keeps making kissy faces at Miss Constance or did at least until she hollered something at him about “it being all his fault”. I have no idea.

All quiet on the phone front this morning; however, we are getting some unusual caller ID’s: Donald Trump and Nancy Grace among them. Your plan sounds marvelous, but I really do think you should put it into play in person. Just to make sure she understands the directions. You might even let her touch your hand as repulsive as that may be. It would lend a nice, sincere touch. I still think you should take Miss Constance. She most certainly would enjoy flying halfway across the world for an afternoon visit on CrepeSuzette, or whatever.

No, no, sir. You cannot take Miss Constance into Central Park. The first and last time we were there, she beat up a rather unruly looking gang all by herself. It was much fun to watch. It seems that she mistakenly thought that one of the young hoodlums was quoting Italian poetry to her. I doubt that he will ever speak again. The surgery to extract his teeth from his...Well. Never mind. Today, for a treat, Miss Constance and I went to the hardware store for supplies as I needed to repaint the grouting in your shower. It took me close to an hour to get her out of there, and she insisted on opening a charge account.

“Kill Bill 1 and 2”? Oh, my heavens, Sir. Did you alert Mr. Carradine again?

Steak Tartare for dinner tonight and a nice bourbon pecan pie that I was given by a friend. Shall I serve the Ripple that Lt. Vincent brought the last time he was here?

By the way, Sir. Bush called for you today. I wasn’t sure if it was President Bush or the gentleman who hawks the beans. Number is on your desk. Your brother called as well. It seems that he would like you to “take a turn” with something, but it was very difficult to understand him as he has such a pronounced Southern accent. I think he was saying something about “vile”.

Proctor  (sk)

Part 4

Proctor,

You are back and home feels better already. I trust you had a lively, uplifting time?

My dear man, that was not my stress affecting the library chandelier. Shortly after I wrote you the last note, Lt. D’Agosta turned up on my front door with a half-finished case of beer and an attitude born of some sort of falling out with the good Captain Hayward. Well, I could not leave him swaying and shouting on our front step so I brought him in and put him in the library while I went to get a glass for his beer. Imagine my shock when I heard the first gunshots. I got there as quickly as possible and there was our man, police-issue Glock in hand, taking potshots at the Spode. I had to disarm him and wrestle him down and eventually wound up handcuffing him to a chair. Which actually turned out to be rather enjoyable... At any event, Proctor, I fear you may have to replace at least two of the linen napkins from the middle drawer (no scarves in the library). And I regret the stain on the seat cushion of that chair. Unfortunately it is an oil, but it’s a clear one. I tried baking soda on it, but did not get quite the hoped-for results. Sorry about that. I know you can take care of anything. By the way, the Cocoa Puffs went to Lt. D’Agosta, as well. I had a pop tart. Hopefully you can replace it before Constance notices. It was one of her frosted blueberry ones.

I am sorry about the kitchen. Actually, I was not entertaining. I was trying to clean up from something that happened a few nights ago, but was distracted by Lt. D’Agosta’s visit. Apologies all around.

Well, if someone is making kissy faces at Constance, particularly a writer in a Hawaiian shirt, we had best do our best to keep them apart. I am still reeling slightly from my walk with her in Central Park.

I have no idea why anyone with the name of Bush would be calling me. Let’s ignore that one, shall we? As for my brother, he can keep his vile turns to himself. I have done as many turns as I care to, as far as he is concerned.

Steak tartare, excellent. And pecan pie as well? Proctor, you do spoil me. We shall have to send you out west more frequently. You do come back a new man. With a bit of a strange gait. No Ripple tonight — let’s finish the absinthe, shall we?

Gratefully,
AXL Pendergast  (l85)



Sir,

It’s amazing how healing a few days off can be. Sometimes it can be a truly climactic experience. It can leave you feeling quite drained but always up for more.

Lt. D’Agosta went postal on the Spode? Not again, Sir. Dixie makes a rather pretty designer paper plate line. Perhaps the next time you even surmise that the Lt. is gifting us with his presence, you would switch them for the Spode?

Replace two linen napkins. Check.

Please don’t try to clean, Sir. The chair will have to be recovered as it now looks rather distressingly as if someone wet his pants in it. Perhaps, when the Lt. is imbibing, he should not wait so long between potty trips?

I am very happy that you and the Lt. found time to exercise. Practicing your Greco Roman styles on each other is a very healthy way to spend an afternoon although Miss Constance says that she thought you were playing leapfrog. But, if I know Lt. Vincent, I’m sure his gun was cocked, loaded , and ready for action.

Sir, we have had this conversation about the library chandelier before. I presume that you two were playing Cowboys again and got carried away.

Replace the frosted blueberry Pop Tarts. Check.

May I inquire,Sir, as to why you have a Yoda Pez dispenser in the pocket of Suit 9D? I noticed that the candy was gone. I would save the Yoda dispenser as it will probably be worth money someday.

Have you seen my grocery store coupons? There’s a wonderful sale on Snuggle this week, but I need the coupon. (dollar doubler day)

Re: cleaning the kitchen. Please don’t try to clean, Sir. SOS pads scratch crystal.

I’ve noticed that the Hawaiian gentlemen were gone this morning. What did you do now, Sir?

Dr. Pendergast, your brother called again and is sounding most desperate. I do believe that he may want to hold out the olive branch.

Why are there pasties stuck on the eyes of your Great Grand Uncle Aminadab’s portrait?

Miss Constance and I had time for only a short walk today. Not that I could have walked far anyway, but I know you understand completely. She thought she would like to purchase some new fish for her aquarium so we wandered down to the pet shop. I have never heard so many shrieks, yips, screams, and growls! And that was just from the owner. Well. Miss Constance was a perfect lady while choosing and paying for her fish. Unfortunately, she ate them on the way home. I doubt if she’ll be hungry for supper.

I am serving spinach salad with the Steak Tartare tonight. The California brands are all on sale this week. Let’s save the absinthe for dessert with the pie. I have a lovely bottle of Wild Irish Rose that would be perfect with the Steak Tartare.

Proctor  (sk)



My dear Proctor,

Well, it seemed a bit tacky to say to the good lieutenant, “Please wait right here while I switch out the china. Won’t be a moment!” so I am afraid the Spode did suffer. And we weren’t playing cowboys this time. The chandelier was a casualty of my attempts to disarm the man. Bloody semi-automatics. You must know that when D’Agosta has a cocked weapon and a finger on the trigger, nothing is going to stop him. Sorry about the chandelier. We can still get replacement parts, I hope?

You are quite fussy about cleaning, aren’t you Proctor? I do my best but (sigh) if that is not sufficient than I will stop since it seems to both annoy and alarm you when I try to help. By the way, the stain on that chair had everything to do with wet and very little to do with pants.

The Yoda dispenser. My dear man, please relegate that to one of my seldom-used drawers and we shall say no more about it. I will admit that a very good friend was having a little laugh at my expense. I had forgotten about it. The candy was rather interesting. Sweet and medicinal at the same time. And the method of delivery was quite clever. Perhaps if I could find a dispenser that was a tad more discreet — oh, but never mind. Just hide Yoda among my socks or something suitable.

I believe Constance said something about grocery store coupons but I didn’t quite catch it. She does mumble quite a lot to herself these days. Sorry I cannot be more helpful to that end. Why would Constance want grocery store coupons?

The Hawaiian gentleman are gone? And what did I do? My dear Proctor, what exactly are you insinuating? I assure you I did nothing illegal, immoral, unethical, or even a touch nasty. I simply let it slip that our good friend Eli Glinn was up to something in deep southern waters and they disappeared forthwith. I did hear one of them say something about “Ice Limit 5”, but that has nothing to do with us.

Proctor, I assure you those pasties are not my responsibility. In the current vernacular, I am “so over” pasties that I haven’t touched any with these hands in some years. You had better ask Constance what she is up to. She has been researching some rather odd and eclectic subjects, Wren told me, and I have no idea where her exceptional mind is leading her now. She seems restless and agitated all the time and has quit reading Clark’s Civilisation in favor of books written by people I have never heard of (Jacqueline Suzanne? Rosemary Rogers? Sidney Sheldon?) I asked her about it and she assured me she is simply trying to “catch up.” I don’t even want to tell you the last three sites she visited while on the computer, but do keep an eye out for brown-wrapped catalogs.

Spinach salad? What a sense of humor you have! Why not throw in some of the olive oil from the basement and we can reenact Jonestown without the KoolAid. My dear Proctor, how you keep me on my toes! I will take a pass on the spinach salad but will happily drink any wine you put in front of me. Looking forward to the steak tartare more than you can know!

As for my brother — an olive branch? Really, good man, you know us all better than that. I may take his next call cautiously and see what he has to say. The better to probe for a weak spot, I believe. Please send some flowers, a pasta gift basket, as well as a cashier’s check for a quarter of a million to Mime when you get the chance. The man has come through for us in spades, if my brother is calling!

Gratefully,
AXL Pendergast  (l85)



Sir,

I have replaced the candles in the chandelier. Again. Terribly sorry that you didn’t care for my suggestion re the paper plates. Only thinking of your things, Sir. I will keep my suggestions to myself from now on.

I appreciate your thoughtfulness in trying to help, Sir. It is your home. If you care to clean, go to it.

The Yoda Pez dispenser is buried far and deep. Iwould suggest your looking for the Spider Man dispenser, but I will keep my suggestions to myself from now on.

Miss Constance has been bookmarking “interesting” pages in the aforementioned novels, Sir. I will check to make sure she is not using my coupons.

Re the pasties. Thank you for the tip regarding Miss Constance. I will stop taking her to craft classes at the Y immediately.

I am truly sorry about “insinuating” that you had done something to the Hawaiian gentlemen. I was merely recalling what you did to that executive from Paramount when he showed up.

Flowers, pasta gift basket, check for a quarter mil. Check.

I will not be using any of the olive oil from the cellars, Sir, as it is beginning to glow.

Your brother called again today quite near to tears it sounds like. I would tell you what you could do with your brother, Dr. Pendergast, but I will keep my suggestions to myself from now on.

You had a person-to-person call from Lady Margerine today. She wants to know when you will be visiting her on Clitoria, or whatever. I took the message. Far be it from me to make suggestions regarding your friends, Sir. She did say something about her being your lady of that evening. I suspect you know her in great enough detail to ungarble that.

Supper will be served at the usual time minus the bourbon pecan pie. Mice, you know, Sir. However, Miss Constance has volunteered to make you a lovely bread pudding. She ate all the bread, but I do believe she substituted with Oysterettes.

Proctor  (sk)



My dear Proctor,

I sense I have somehow offended you and I do apologize for that. I am generally trying to be helpful when I clean up after myself, but since I seem to be creating more work for you, which is not my objective in this case, well then of course I will stop.

As for keeping your suggestions to yourself? My dear man, you know how much I have always depended upon your counsel. Of course I do not expect you to keep your suggestions to yourself! If I had wanted that, I would have hired the houseboy from New Orleans, Rufus? Regulus? The name escapes me now, but he was a yes-man of the first order. No wonder Diogenes stole him away. (Oh, it was never officially announced, but we’re none of us idiots, are we?) At any event, Proctor, when I want serious mayhem or bodily harm, you have always stood me in good stead. I expect you to continue.

And the man from Paramount got nearly everything he deserved, as well. And of course I inadvertently boosted his career. After he recovered he was snatched up by network TV so there it is.

My brother near tears? Ah, that call would have been music to my ears. You did not, per chance, happen to tape it? Probably not, but it would have been quite a nice pick-me-up at the end of a hard day at the Bureau.

The Lady Mess — Lady Masc — For heavensake, Proctor, what is the woman’s name and title? I suppose none of this will rest until we see each other again. The things one must do for a little peace and quiet. Never mind. All right, then. I suppose you ought to go ahead and book two round-trip tickets to Italy, one for Constance and one for myself. We shall go and take care of this once and for all. Oh, and please also take care of passage for the Lady Mosquito? Lady Moustachio? Confound it, I know it begins with an M-vowel-S sound but I cannot for the life of me... Never mind, you know who I mean. Please arrange for passage, one ticket, one way, for the Ladyship to arrive at Diogenes’ little piece of paradise. I am sure she will be just the thing to get him back on his feet after his little mishap in the volcano. She will bring him roaring back to life, or my name is not Aloysius Pendergast! Let me know when the trip has been arranged.

Oh, and Proctor — should you choose to have a guest in again while I am gone — and I do know about this, so don’t even begin to protest — that is perfectly fine as long as you do remember to replace all of my neckties and belts afterward. I remember coming up short on four ties and two belts when I went to Kansas that one time...

Gratefully,
AXL Pendergast  (l85)

Part 5

Sir,

I do appreciate your continuing efforts to clean up after yourself, as you say. However, someone, such as yourself, who is such a little old woman about cleanliness should realize that there is more to cleaning than sweeping the dirt under the rug. That is why I beseech you to let me do it as our repair bills from Roto-Rooter and Jake’s Gas and Electrical Services are enough to put them on retainer. Not to mention the environmental problems.

Thank you for the good words regarding my efforts to continue to undertake the task of keeping you on your toes defense-wise. It is quite rewarding to know that my actions regarding the intentional inflicting of bodily injuries is not going unnoticed. I do try, Sir. The gentleman from New Orleans to whom you are referring was, indeed, Rufus. He was with your brother for only a short time however. Something about replacement parts.

No, I did not tape your brother’s call. I believe there is some kind of law forbidding the kind of language he used. It’s quite interesting to note how many languages your brother is fluent in.

I fear to say that I have never really gotten Lady Messerschmitt’s name correctly. I was always too busy snickering at the Lady part. I’m sure you’ll forgive that, Sir. However, Miss Constance assures me that her name is Lady V. Maskelene. She says the V is for “Vile”. I have booked the requested tickets for you and Miss Constance. You should arrive by ferry on Cranberry, or whatever, by 1:00 pm. Your ferry return is scheduled for 3:00 pm. Please don’t miss the ferry, Sir, as it is the last one for the day. I would ask you to please not bring home any souvenir undergarments from this trip. Although something tells me the Lady in question doesn’t wear any. And Dear God NO WINE!!!!!!!

I have had the most delightful time arranging her trip to your brother’s doorway. She will be ferrying to Sicily, where she will be spending the night with Don Francisco. As you know, the Don always delights to entertain female visitors with his gigantic salami. Then on by packet to Marseilles, where LM can spend a few hours streetwalking. Later that evening, she boards a train for Rome, which will be carrying the French soccer team. I am sure that LM will have no problems helping them with their balls, good sport that she is. As train trips can give one such a workout, LM will spend a night recouping in Rome before cruising to Venice. Some time for a nice, steamy lunch, and she’s off by overnight ferry to Stromboli. As the overnight ferry is manned by sailors who are extremely hot due to shoveling coal, LM may be able to work it into an experience of pyramidal proportions. The next morning LM arrives a much-traveled woman at your brother’s abode. I am positive he will be delirious.

I have already packed Miss Constance. Since yesterday.

Terribly sorry about the missing accessories, Sir. I will replace the belts but will have some trouble finding another series of “Singing Santa” ties. Maybe Rudolph or Frosty?

Out of curiosity, if things get really sticky, are you planning on using your fall-back line of everything being open before you? I’ve always liked that one, and I know it’s a personal favorite of the Lt.’s as he’s heard it so often. Oh, well. You can always tell her you’re withdrawing from the world for a couple of months. That always sounds so intellectual.

Enjoy your trip!!!!! Don’t let Miss Constance eat the plane peanuts.

Oh, yes. I’ve made a reservation for you at Signorina Ava’s Evening Spa for the night you return from your visit to Carbuncle, or whatever. She said she is laying in a big surprise for you.

Proctor  (sk)



My dear Proctor,

I applaud your handiwork at sending the Lady Vile (is that correct?) around the world, as it were. She did mention several times how well-traveled she is, and your tour sounds like just the thing for both her mind and body. Good thinking. I will have to e-mail her to let her know of our arrival. Good job Mime’s set-up is still in working order or we might have been deluged with phone calls as she tried to verify the details. She does seem to have a bit of trouble hanging onto information that involves numbers and letters. Not to mention names, times, schedules, and details having to do with day-to-day life. However, I will tell her to print out the e-mail and put it on her refrigerator with one of her 4000 or so kitschy magnets, and perhaps that will solve the problem. Not likely, but we can always hope. In the end it does not matter. I know how to find her and I doubt very much she will be involved in anything inherently shocking even if we arrive in the middle of one of her afternoon (or was that hourly?) social endeavors. No wine. I understand. In ways you can only begin to imagine.

I wasn’t aware that you were up on some of the farewell lines I utilize upon occasion. My dear man, sometimes you know me so well it is nearly alarming. I rather like the one about everything being open before us. It’s so much more tasteful than the simplistic “I’ll call.”

Proctor, I appreciate the Rudolph or Frosty gesture, but there will never be anything quite like the Santas. However, do whatever you must. Please, though, no green ones. I much prefer red or blue.

Thank you for thinking of the Spa. At that point I am sure it will be just the thing I will need to unwind and work out some of the stiffness, even rigidity, that seems to happen when I undertake this sort of journey. It will be wonderful to come into such a warm and welcoming environment.

At any event, if Constance is packed I will take care of the last details including that e-mail. Please ignore my brother’s phone calls. We do want to surprise him, after all!

Oh, and last minute instructions:

1. Please tell Lt. D’Agosta, should he call, that I will be back in New York within the week.

2. Please tell Captain Hayward if she calls that I have gone to Europe with my ward and will not be returning for at least a month.

3. Please tell Agent Coffey if he calls that I will be looking him up upon my return.

4. Please tell Corrie if she calls that the young man she is seeing now is involved in some questionable activities and we need to discuss this. Chess club and forensics are acceptable, but this constant online activity on the chat boards of two writers who exploit the cases of a hardworking FBI agent does give one pause. Not to mention the fact that he has been known to (shudder) “fan-fic.” Oh, and of course I expect her to finish out the term before she goes backpacking through the Outback with him.

5. Please tell Wren that I saw the catalogs Constance had requested and he can either put them back in their brown wrappers and dump them, or archive them in his own collection as he sees fit.

6. Still waiting for the extra handkerchiefs and shoes. If they do not arrive, please look into that for me.

7. Kindly replace my belts and ties, as always.

All right, no peanuts for Constance. I understand. Wish us luck, Proctor. This is no light undertaking, this journey to Capzasin. One could almost prefer to be up against the Mbwun instead.

Gratefully,
AXL Pendergast   (l85)