The Room on the Second Floor by T A Williams

Mr Scott.’
    Duggie tried to prod a bit more about the butler.
    ‘So where might I find the butler? Any idea?’
    Stan studied him for a moment. ‘Try asking at the Prince William. Just along the road at the entrance to Toplingham.’ His eyes flicked across to a figure coming up the drive. ‘I see that Patrick has ventured forth from the comforts of home, so I’ll leave the two of you together.’
    He turned the key in the ignition, and the tractor roared into life. Duggie gave him a wave of the hand, and watched him leave in the direction of the first tee, assuming it was still there under all the undergrowth. Behind him, he heard the unmistakable tones of the Irishman.
    ‘A very good afternoon to you, Mr Scott. Would you be out for a constitutional to allow the ingestion of oxygen through your pharynx, down your trachea, and into the labyrinth that would be your bronchi, with all their clusters of alveoli, now would you?’
    Duggie had to stop and think for a moment.
    ‘A breath of fresh air?’ He hazarded the translation. Paddy was impressed.
    ‘Sure and a fine grasp of the medical you have, to be sure. Your cranium surely houses a cerebral cortex of monumental proportions, now it does so, too.’
    Duggie was beginning to find the conversation a little wearing.
    ‘I’m sure that’s right, Paddy, but tell me, do you think I might be able to find the butler down at the Prince William? Stan the gardener tells me he likes to hang out there.’
    The old man gave him a knowing wink. ‘That he might, that he might. Sure and you could do far worse than begin your investigations there. A gentleman such as yourself, with an outstanding composite cognitive ability, you will find him for sure, that you will, you will.’
    Duggie decided to reply in kind.
    ‘Paddy, has anybody ever told you, your constant references to medical terminology can make you a right case of haemorrhoids?’ The factotum looked uncertain, so Duggie explained.
    ‘A right pain in the arse, Paddy. A right pain in the arse.’
    He patted him on the scapula with the prehensile multi-fingered body part at the end of his arm and set off for the car.

Chapter 8
    From the window of the study on the first floor, Linda watched the car disappear down the drive.
    ‘Duggie seems really keen to get on with things.’ She sounded impressed.
    She turned back from the window and came over to where Roger was seated at the desk. He quickly averted his eyes, which had been feasting forlornly upon her curves. He was reminded of one of Saint Bernard’s letters to Ermengarde, Countess of Brittany. In this, he told her,
my heart is close to you, even if my body is absent
. For his part, he knew that his heart had belonged to Linda for years. The problem was, alas, that their bodies remained frustratingly separated from each other.
    ‘Duggie? When he gets his teeth into something, he doesn’t give up.’
    It was an unfortunate choice of words. This was exactly what Jasper, the monster dog, was doing to Roger’s shoe at the time. Each time Roger tried to pull it back, the dog tugged all the harder, greatly enjoying what he deemed to be a super game. The fact that Roger’s foot was still inside the shoe, made it all the more fun.
    ‘He’s got all sorts of ideas for this country club thing. If anybody can make a go of it, he can. He tells me he hopes to have people queuing at the doors before the end of January.’
    He tried to ignore the dog and its insistent tugging and concentrate on the contents of the desk. This had finally yielded to one of the keys from the treasure chest. Considering the size of the thing, it was remarkably empty. Just a few folders with fairly modern printed labels such as
Housekeeping
,
Petty Cash
and
Utilities
and a handful of ledgers, the top one of which was one marked
Staff
.
    ‘Bingo.’
    He held it up so she could see the label, then opened it. Each page was an employee. He almost got palpitations when he saw that the book was