Free Mrs. Pargeter's Plot by Simon Brett Page A

not the one sitting at the desk with the mask on . . .’
    â€˜It’s a third bloke, in fact.’
    â€˜It is. You got it, right, a third bloke. Anyway, this bloke – the one who’s come in – he asks the other bloke – not the one with the mask on his desk, that is, the third one – he asks him: “Oo’s that bloke over there?” This is the one with the mask he’s asking about now, right?’
    â€˜Right.’
    â€˜So the other bloke – this is the third one now . . .’
    â€˜I’m with you.’
    â€˜He says: “That bloke’s our Mortgage Department. He’s the Loan Arranger!”’
    Fossilface O’Donahue rumbled with laughter at his punch-line, and Mrs Pargeter too managed to summon up a little chuckle. ‘Very good, very good.’
    â€˜Yeah, well, the trick with jokes,’ he confided, ‘doesn’t lie in the joke itself . . .’
    â€˜Doesn’t it?’
    â€˜No, it’s not the jokes – it’s the way you tell them.’
    â€˜Ah.’
    â€˜I been practising that, and all.’
    â€˜Oh, it shows, it shows.’
    â€˜Yes. You know, I’m really working on this sense of humour business.’
    â€˜So I can see.’
    â€˜And I’m going to use it in the way I make restitooshun to the people what I done wrong to.’
    â€˜Oh really?’ said Mrs Pargeter, unable to disguise the edge of anxiety in her voice. She didn’t relish the loose cannon of Fossilface O’Donahue’s sense of humour coming anywhere near her.
    â€˜You bet. For instance, do you know what I done wrong to your husband?’
    â€˜No.’ Mrs Pargeter wasn’t sure that she actually wanted to know.
    â€˜I cheated him out of five hundred nicker.’
    â€˜Oh dear. Well, I’m sure he would have forgiven you for—’
    â€˜Oh no, he’s going to get restitooshun for it all right – or, actually,
you’re
going to get restitooshun for it.’
    â€˜Thank you,’ Mrs Pargeter murmured weakly.
    â€˜In fact, you already got it.’
    â€˜Have I?’
    â€˜Yes. You are the proud recipient of the first bit of restitooshun what I done since I come out . . .’
    â€˜Lucky me.’
    â€˜. . . and you’re the first one to experience the full effect of my sense of humour.’
    â€˜Really?’
    â€˜So what do you think of it, eh?’
    Mrs Pargeter was perplexed. ‘I’m sorry. I’m not quite with you. You’ll have to explain.’
    Gleefully, Fossilface O’Donahue did as he was requested. ‘I done your old man out of five hundred . . . What’s the slang for five hundred?’
    It all became horribly clear. ‘A “monkey”?’ she suggested with resignation.
    â€˜Exactly,’ a triumphant Fossilface confirmed.
    Mrs Pargeter looked down at Erasmus, sleeping in his circle of debris on the carpet. ‘Oh yes,’ she said. ‘Very amusing.’

Chapter Eleven
    â€˜The thought of Fossilface O’Donahue having developed a sense of humour,’ said Truffler Mason heavily, ‘is almost too awful to contemplate.’
    â€˜Right. I’m afraid he hasn’t really caught on to the idea properly yet. I mean, I think that maybe he understands the general principle of humour, but he sure as hell doesn’t understand what makes something funny.’
    â€˜No, he always did have a rather ponderous approach to . . . well, to everything, really.’
    Truffler took a contemplative sip of his champagne. They were in the bar of Greene’s Hotel, later the same evening. Having started drinking champagne, Mrs Pargeter saw no reason to stop. Fossilface O’Donahue had gone, and a touching reunion been effected between Hedgeclipper Clinton and Erasmus. The hotel manager was determined to protect the marmoset more rigorously in future.
    Mrs