Thursdays With Uncle Boom #91

The problem is, old chap that by all accounts he was last seen at the club, with you?

I chewed the end of my pipe with some vigour before noticing it had gone out. I lit it up again with a devilishly handsome hand.

That is preposterous. You say this was on Monday? It couldn't possibly have been me. I was visiting a dear old friend in Colchester.

Chief Inspector Hilton reached across the desk in my sitting room and lifted the bottle of 30 year old MacAllan that was there.

He had come to see me regarding my dear old friend Dobbers, who apparently had been missing for some days.

Mind if I top myself up?

He waggled the bottle and looked at me as if he were a Labrador and I, was his owner with a pocket full of beef treats.

I waved my assent.

Chief Inspector Hilton was an old acquaintance from the club, a decent enough fellow despite having a face like vaginal cartilage.

He slopped a good measure of the Malt whisky into his glass, his third so far.

I do hate to be a frightful bore, old chap but could you possibly tell me just who this old friend in Colchester was?

I lowered my brow at this as if Hilton had asked to ride my diddies.

For goodness sake, Hilton. Dobbers is a grown man. Why this concern for his whereabouts? It's only been a few days?

Hilton sipped appreciatively at his Whisky then sighed.

This is difficult indeed. You see, well, to put it bluntly. Dobbers, like us, is a gentleman. Yes?

I harrumphed loudly.

Of course he is.

A cloud of baccy smoke lazily curled up from my pipe. It was a good baccy from the Tobago's. Dark and spicy with a hint of ladies vinegar.

Us gentlemen, we abide by a code do we not?

Said Hilton somewhat tentatively.

Of course we do. Get to the fucking point man.

Hilton nodded resignedly.

Fair enough. The point is that Dobbers maid reported him missing when he didn't come home on Monday night. It was too early for a missing persons but I thought I could at least check to see if anyone at the club knew anything...

He looked at me pointedly.

I spoke to the barman at the club who did remember seeing him. His memory largely being that of him having quite the heated argument with you. He said Dobbers was furious and stormed out.

It was my turn to pour myself another Whisky. Which I did whilst shaking my head.

I have already told you quite emphatically that I was not at the club that night. Nor did I see Dobbers. In fact I haven't seen him since last Thursday.

I stated holding Hilton's eye steadily.

Fair enough.

Hilton raised himself to his feet.

Well, thank you for your time, Boomy. I am sorry to have disturbed you.

I stood too.

I'm sorry I couldn't be any more help, old fellow.

Hilton paused midway to the door and turned.

You never answered when I asked, who this old friend you visited in Colchester was?

One corner of Hilton's mouth quirked up in a strange half-smile and he cocked his head slightly to the side.

I patted him on the back and answered with a smile of my own. A somewhat colder one.

No I didn't did I? Well you should know old fellow...