'How was that for you?' she asked.
'Wonderful,' said Jack. 'Quite wonderful.'
'I'm pleased.'
Jack sighed and smiled. 'I love you,' he said. 'Will you marry me?'
'Certainly,' said Jill, 'as soon as you become a prince. In the meantime, I'll make out your bill.'
When Jack left the white room, he moved upon feet that scarcely touched the floor. He fairly soared. He felt marvellous. He felt that he had now become a man.
Just wait 'til Eddie hears about this, he thought. And, I wonder how you go about actually becoming a prince, he thought also.
As this had now become his goal in life.
Down the stairs Jack wafted. Light as thistledown and dishevelled as a nettle bed. He had lipstick all over his face and the jewelled buttons on his waistcoat were missing.
'Eddie.' Jack reached the bottom of the stairs. 'Eddie, where are you?'
All was silent and Jack breathed in all there was. The subtle perfumes seemed almost more subtle. But now Jack felt a twinge of guilt. Had what he'd just done been wrong? Immoral? Corrupt? Well, yes it had, but.
But.
Jack pressed all such thoughts aside. What had just happened had been wonderful, beautiful. And something that was wonderful and beautiful couldn't be wrong, could it? And Jill acted as if she'd been enjoying it too. And if she'd enjoyed it too, then it definitely wasn't wrong.
It was right.
'Yes,' said Jack. 'It was. Eddie, where are you?'
All was as silent as before.
Rather too silent, really.
Jack crossed the salon and pressed his hand against the door that led to the kitchen. He was very hungry now. And very thirsty too. A snack was in order. A celebratory snack, all washed down with a glass of bubbly wine.
Which could go on Eddie's account.
Jack pushed the door open.
'Eddie,' he called once more, 'where are you? Come on.'
Beyond the doorway was a hallway and beyond this hallway, yet another door. Which is often the case with hallways, especially those that lead from one room to another. Jack pranced down this hallway and knocked upon the door that it led to.
And as there was no answer to his knockings, he turned the handle and pushed the door open. It was the door to the kitchen. Jack peeped in.
The kitchen was a magnificent affair, the kind of kitchen that Great Houses had. And this was indeed a great house. There was a flagstoned floor, a huge central table, ovens and ranges and rows and rows of hanging pots and pans and skillets.
Jack was impressed by this kitchen. 'This kitchen,' said Jack, 'is what I call a kitchen. This is a magnificent kitchen. The kind of kitchen that Great Houses have. And this is indeed a great house. The only thing I don't like about this kitchen, the only thing that really spoils this kitchen for me, is that.'
And Jack stared at the thing that spoiled the kitchen and Jack felt just a little sick. Because on the huge central table lay Madame Goose. She lay as a goose stripped for cooking. Her legs were trussed and her neck had been wrung.
Mother Goose was dead.
‘Jack,' said the voice of Jill, ‘ Jack, what are you doing in the kitchen?' And now Jill's hand was upon Jack's shoulder.
Jack turned and said, 'Go back. Don't come in here.'
'Why not?'
'Something's happened, something bad.'
'Show me, what?' Jill pushed past Jack. 'Oh no,' she said, and she screamed.
'Just go back,' said Jack. 'I'll deal with this.'
'Deal with what'? She's dead, isn't she?'
'Pretty dead,' said Jack, approaching the body on the
table. His heels clacked upon the flagstone floor. Jack's feet were truly back upon the ground.
'This is terrible.'Jill wrung her hands; big tears welled in her eyes. 'Terrible, terrible.'
'I'm sorry,' said Jack, viewing the body. 'I'll get something to cover her body.'
Tin not sorry about her,' said Jill. 'But if she's dead, then I'm out of a job, which is terrible.'
'Right,' said Jack, peering some more at the body. 'Whoever did this must be very strong. Hardly the work of a woman.'
'Woman?' said Jill.
'Eddie thinks...' Jack paused. 'Eddie,' he said. Then, 'Eddie!' he shouted. 'Where are you, Eddie? Are you hiding somewhere?'
No reply gave comfort to Jack's ears.
'Eddie!' shouted Jack.
‘Jack,' said Jill, 'I think you'd better look at this.'
'What?’ Jack asked. And Jill pointed.
The kitchen door was open, but it was towards the doormat that Jill was pointing.
Jack followed the direction of this pointing, and then Jack said, 'Oh no.'
On the doormat lay something which filled Jack with horror.
That something was a large pile of sawdust.
12
'Eddie?' Jack went all weak at the knees. 'Eddie, is that you?'
A gentle breeze entered at the kitchen door and rippled Eddie's innards all about.
'Waaagh!' went Jack. 'Get a dustpan and brush! Gather him up in a bag!'
'Have you gone mad?'Jill asked.
'It's Eddie! My friend! This is dreadful!'
Jack was at the door now and he stared out into an alleyway beyond. Til go after him,' he told Jill. 'I'll try to find the rest of him.'
‘Jack, stop,' said Jill. 'It's a toy. Who cares about a toy?'
'I do,' said Jack. 'He's my friend.'
'You're a bit old for that kind of thing, aren't you?'
'He's my partner,' said Jack.
'Get real,' said Jill. 'It's a toy. Toys don't care for our kind and if you're smart, you won't care for theirs. You can always find yourself another toy bear, if that's the sort of weirdness you're in to.'
'What?'
'No wonder you were so useless in bed.'
'What?'
'Perhaps you'd have preferred it if I'd put a fur coat on.'
'Stop!' cried Jack. 'Stop now! Sweep Eddie's sawdust up and put it in a bag. Then call the police. I'm going after Eddie. I'll be back.'
'Oh yes, sir,' said Jill.
Jack cast her a very stern glance. 'Sweep him up and call the police,' he said.
Jack moved cautiously along the alleyway. There was always the chance that the murderer might still be lurking there, lying in wait. Ready to pounce.
Sprinkles of sawdust lay here and there amongst discarded refuse. Jack's sunken heart sank deeper. 'Eddie,' he called, throwing caution to the wind that was ruffling Eddie's sprinklings. 'Are you there? Anywhere? Eddie? Eddie!'
The alleyway led out to a street.
Further sprinklings of Eddie led to the pavement kerb.
Beyond this, on the road, were two black skid marks.
'Kidnapped,' said Jack. 'Or,' and he paused, 'or murdered.'
Jack returned with drooping shoulders to the kitchen.
Jill was sitting on the table, casually plucking feathers from a wing of the deceased Madame.
'Stop doing that,' said Jack. 'Did you call the police?'
'They're busy,' said Jill. 'Apparently Little Boy Blue has been murdered. How about that then? Another rich bag of rubbish done away with.'
'You don't really care about anybody, do you?' Jack asked.
'And why should I? Nobody cares about me.'
'I care,' said Jack.
'Of course you don't.' Jill dusted feathers from her delicate fingers. 'You only care about me because I'm the first girl you've ever had sex with.'
'That's not true,' said Jack.
'Then let's see how much you care about me when you get the bill.'
'I don't have time for this.' Jack peered all around and about the kitchen. 'My friend has been kidnapped and I have to find him. There must be some clues here. What would Eddie do?’ Jack paced about in the manner that Eddie had at Humpty Dumpty's apartment. And then Jack recalled that it was actually he, Jack, who had solved the riddle of how Humpty met his grisly end.