9
PEER’S CAR IN KIDNAP MUDDLE
West End Cast and Production Detained
Pedestrians in the Strand outside Charing Cross Station just after three o’clock this afternoon were witness to a man shouting for help from the window of a Rolls-Royce limousine. The vehicle which had the characteristic blue light of Royal Cars, and whose licence registration number was traced by police, was found to be owned by Lord Nectarine, MFH, old Harrovian and one of England’s most outstanding schoolboy and university cricketers.
The car which was not located for several hours was finally stopped by Police on Fulham Road near Brompton Cemetery where it was said one of its occupants who resisted arrest was being delivered. Mr. Hubert Jones, Lord Nectarine’s chauffeur, fainted during the incident.
Others found in the car and who were detained at Walham Green Police Station to help police with their further enquiries, said they were en route to their respective destinations from an audition and that they were members of the cast, The Director, Composers, Choreographer, and Author of a soon to be West End production, “Kiss It Don’t Hold It It’s Too Hot.” The car’s occupants were later released but not before the Police were treated to some song and dance by one of the male stars.
At the same time, Police on a tipoff that the alleged kidnap might have political as well as monarchist implications, raided the house of a Mr. Sigmund Schultz a theatrical impresario who was thought to have borrowed Lord Nectarine’s car.
At Mr. Schultz’s Belgravia address Police found a man and woman who were believed to have been both knocked down in a struggle with Mr. Schultz. Charged with having caused actual bodily harm Mr. Schultz was arrested. One policeman with a dislocated shoulder sustained in gaining entry and two other persons suffering injuries in the affray, were treated for their injuries at St. George’s Hospital nearby and allowed to go home. Their names are being withheld by Police.
For the first time in Sperm Productions business history, all directors were in the office at the ungodly and untheatrical hour of eleven a.m. The incident which had screamed headlines in the late editions of London’s evening newspapers had percolated into most of the popular morning papers as well. With Binky overflowing with delight with every edition spread across the chairman’s desk.
IRISH ACTOR’S SHOUT FOR HELP
FAMED CRICKETER’S LIMOUSINE INVOLVED
WEST END ABDUCTION A WEST END PRODUCTION BELGRAVIA IMPRESARIO SOCKS TWO
Schultz the last to arrive came into the chairman’s office in his darkest pair of sunglasses yet. Bloodstains on his shirt, lip swollen, face scratched and tie knot undone. Rumbles of suppressed laughter rocking Binky as he neatly cut the end off a cigar with a silver penknife. While his Lordship, having lit up his tenth cigarette, was puffing madly away and jigging his foot nervously up and down.
“Schultz, never in a million years am I going to let you have my motor again.”
“None of it was my fault.”
“Schultz that is what you always say.”
“Tell me how am I going to predict this Magillacurdy’s going to stick his big thick Irish skull out the fucking window of the car and start shouting he’s kidnapped. Anyway Jesus your Lordship, look at the good publicity for the show will you.”
“Schultz you are, aren’t you, utterly without conscience. I hardly think having my identification dragged into the paper in this manner is good publicity.”
“Shit I got arrested. I’ve just been up in the dock in court before a judge. Blamed for assaulting people. There wasn’t even decent toilet paper in my cell where everybody could watch you taking a crap. The media made me look like a criminal. And look it says everywhere you were one of England’s best all time cricketers. Isn’t that the national fucking sport. I mean if you could play American baseball that well you’d have people asking for your autograph everywhere you went. Anyway I’m dead beat. That police cell all night, people and noise waking you up every five minutes. And Jesus I need a clean shirt. I got to rush right out this second. Where’s an extra couple of copies of my budget Binky. This big property developer I was going to meet before you made me go down to the fucking hospital that day is dying at the end of the phone now to get his money into the show.”
“Just a moment, Schultz allow me, the sleeves may be a mite too long but otherwise it should fit.”
“Hey christ Binky, you’re giving me the shirt off your back.”
“Schultz, yes, I have that honor.”
“Hey christ, wait a minute. I’m touched. I really am. Thanks. And it’s silk.”
The shirts exchanged across the chairman’s desk. Schultz removing his undershirt stained with blood. As Binky, the window light playing over his bare shoulders, turned a page of newspaper.
“Holy shit Binky you’re built like an adonis. Isn’t there anything you guys weren’t born with.”
“Of course Schultz over the generations and centuries of selective breeding for muscles, brains and beauty, not to mention land holdings, coal mines and distilleries, such results have given his Lordship and I a few advantages we enjoy over your usual upper-middle classes. And I’m flattered Schultz that you should remark so about my physique but dear me you must not jump overboard. I think both his Royal Grace and I, among many other things, lack your unquenchable fighting spirit. And ah Schultz, you’re not even stopping to look at your mail.”
“Binky I got no time this morning. My door on the house is busted. Fucking rooms flooded. In court this morning I got fined twenty five bloody quid and told by the Judge I was a menace. When I was the fucking one who was attacked by two maniacs. I’m telling you if I can only stay alive for another month or so, just alive that’s all. I’m going to have the biggest smash on my hands that you guys or this town has ever seen. Hey this shirt fits swell. And boy I can use the temporary confidence of these gold cuff links.”
“But Schultz before you rush off, perhaps you’d tell your old pal Binky about the prognosis of your Oriental Plague.”
“Jesus that worry got crushed right out of existence in the last twenty four hours. No microbe could live through what I’ve been through.”
“Ah but Schultz this is a most interesting development, your socking people.”
“That’s right. Any shit now from anybody. That’s what they get. This. Right in the gizzard.”
“But Schultz I must remind you this is England. You can’t go around punching people.”
“Can’t I. Just watch your daily newspapers you guys.”
Schultz folding his production agreement and shoving it into his jacket inside pocket. A rapping at the office door. Binky in his lightest airiest vowels saying come in. Rebecca with one of her long elegant hands brushing back a soft curled long blond brown strand of hair from her attractively wide forehead.
“Excuse me sir. O goodness, I’m sorry.”
“Ah forgive me Rebecca my momentary state of undress. We’re just doing a little experimenting with costuming. Do come in.”
“There is an urgent personal call for Mr. Schultz on Lord Nectarine’s private line.”
His Lordship suddenly sitting bolt upright on the chaise longue highly unamused. Having been lying back not unsmilingly in calm enjoyment of this morning’s marvellous showbizz conference.
“Schultz to whom have you given my private number upon which to take your personal calls when there are six other lines.”
“Jesus your Lordship, I gave it to nobody. And do you have to get steamed up about such a simple little item like that. Besides you never use the damn thing.”
Schultz hurrying out of the office. And back in a moment. Beaming ear to ear. As Binky following a puff of cigar smoke raised his chin enquiringly.
“Ah Schultz clearly good news.”
“Jesus that was the laboratory tests. The Doc just got in. You sons of bitches. I ain’t got a thing wrong with me.”
“Ah how nice to hear that, Schultz. How nice.”
Schultz his scratched face wi
th one very black eye and the other fading blue and his rumpled ivy league attire now improved with Binky’s silk shirt, swept jauntily out of the office of Sperm Productions. Even popping on his head a fedora his Lordship abandoned on a clothes rack in the hall. As Binky further conferred with his aristocratic associate.
“Ah your Royal Grace we must really admire him I think. Especially in view of the dear boy’s ability to convert as it were your limousine into Schultz’s personal bandwagon. And in spite of his venereal tribulation.”
Binky who quite savoured to take hilarious delight in another’s mild misfortune was also as he had amply demonstrated this very morning, possessed of an astonishing magnanimity and humanity and would rush to any downed friend’s assistance. And now he especially relished the publicity which had helpfully befallen Schultz.
“Your Royal Grace I think, I really do, that we must now consider seriously buying up Schultz’s show.”
This previously glowering grey day, now blossoming a bird singing cheerful London bright blue. Pigeons cooing out on the roof. Binky, in Schultz’s bloodstained shirt and without his usual oval cuff links flashing gold, sifting and shifting one last time chuckling through the newspapers, laughing outright here and roaring there. And now finally taking up the morning’s post. And still convulsing himself with laughter with his somewhat less amused Lordship over this morning’s marvellous fun and games, not to mention the contemplated renewed efforts to reawaken somehow Schultz’s terror of clap, pox and plague.
“I wonder, your Amazing Grace, if we were lacking in imagination not to throw in some further dread, testicles popping off disease of mid Africa to befuddle his doctor and quake poor Schultzy boy in his tracks. Would you believe it that prior to these present well publicized mishaps that the prospect of throwing further jolts into Schultz, had me popping open the encyclopaedia last night looking for fresh scary medical afflictions.”
Binky loungingly tilting back in his chair and raising one foot to rest on his gout stool. His finger idly flicking through the stack of letters. Looking up from time to time as he selected an envelope which he sniffed before more closely scrutinizing. Then raising his smiling face to survey his Lordship who was removing a rather tattered old sock from one of his extremely white narrow feet, which had been encased, as were Binky’s and Schultz’s feet, in shoes from the male chorus line of a previous failed Schultz production.
“Bills from set designers and builders and lighting companies do have an unerring smell. Or goodness, your Amazing Grace is that perfume I perceive, your foot.”
“Now Binky you’re not to behave with me as you do with Schultz.”
“Of course I wouldn’t dream of doing so. But I say. Speak of the poor devil. What’s this little item. Addressed to Schultz. Sigmund F. And appended by Esquire if you please. And by god, from, of all places, Buckingham Palace. Well, I think we must look into this. I mean it’s just as exciting as spying on the middle classes. And we may indeed have revealed to us further insights into Schultz’s character. And just, ah, gently unstick this seal.”
“Binky you mustn’t do that.”
“But your Amazing Grace of course I must, when one confronts an envelope issuing from our Sovereign’s London residence to Schultz who simply no matter how one stretches one’s imagination, is not quite properly equipped to mingle among even the more shallowly Debrett of London’s aristocracy. Never mind, the Queen.”
“Binky that really is an outrageous thing to do. You mustn’t.”
“O pish and pother. Schultzy boy won’t mind. I say. Good god.”
Binky his nostrils flickering and eyelids fluttering, holding aloft a gleaming gold embossed invitation.
“I say. Good gracious me. How in heaven’s name does Schultz rate this. Your Royal Grace, you do realise that here I hold a command from the Sovereign herself to Schultz himself. Albeit through the medium of a Royal employee.”
“I don’t believe you Binky.”
“Ah you Royals are all the same, sceptic to the last. Allow me. To therefore read. The Master of the Household is Commanded by Her Majesty to invite Mr. Sigmund Franz Schultz to an afternoon party at Buckingham Palace.”
“Good god, Binky.”
“Ah at last I’m glad to see you alarmed your Royal Grace. And I mean to say my dear, to watch Schultz elbow his way about among minor royalty may be an amusement not to be missed. Being as he is so marvellously oblivious to their terribly high social positions. But ye gads. Heaven forbid. Imagine. Schultz. Bloodstained. Black eyed. Face clawed. In personal intimate proximity with the Sovereign herself, Her Majesty the Queen.”
With one bare foot wagging loose, his Lordship, rarely one to bestir himself unless in the most dire of emergencies, hobbled over to Binky to take the invitation in hand. Binky slitting open more letters and removing photographs sent by the usual young ladies displaying their particulars. Holding each picture up to the window light, moving the shiny surface this way and that. And with his desk magnifying glass uncovered from its scarlet kidskin case, perusing certain photographs more carefully.
“Ah, yes, just as I thought, this nicely rounded young lady is worthy of an audition. I do love the way they sincerely stare out at me so absolutely intent upon stardom.”
“My god Binky, this invitation is absolutely genuine.”
“Of course it is my dear, haven’t I just attempted to make such an impression upon you. Do you suppose your Royal Grace that someone at the Royal Palace got his hands on the wrong mailing list.”
“Binky you must put it properly back in its envelope and reseal it with haste.”
“Ah now, my good Lord. Let us not be too hasty. Let us consider a few points first. For a start the palace advisers will with dismay, be reeling with the impact of Schultz’s recent publicity. And of course they may, being so formidably possessed as they are with good breeding, not revoke Schultz’s invitation. But I mean can we, as directors of Sperm Productions, now allow a grimly certain faux pas to befall Her Majesty. I mean one would not be concerned of course were it just the ordinary royals. But the Queen herself. Ye gads. Tantamount to treason, that would be. I mean even, in the regrettable name of this firm, to bring our warning to the attention of the Sovereign’s private secretary is heinous. But now with all this over newspapers. And with our Schultzy boy previously worried to a frazzle as he was over the diseases we made him think he had, he absolutely is bound to commit the most fatal type of indiscretion which will reflect disagreeably upon this company. And I speak as chairman.”
“Binky you really must reseal this.”
“I shall this second. By my dear Lord Nectarine are you suggesting I allow this travesty to take place. I mean the likes of Schultz rubbing elbows with just your usual Royals, as I’ve already said, that is highly amusing. But the Sovereign. Who holds what’s left of our fading empire together. O dear dear me I dread to think. Dread to conceive. Can you imagine. Hey gee hi ya queenie, glad to make your acquaintance, my whole fucking cast was just fucking kidnapped and got a lot of good fucking publicity, and do you want to invest in my fucking new show, Boom Madam Bang Madam Pop Madam Pop or whatever the wretched thing had just recently been renamed. You, my dearest Royal Grace are only too familiar yourself with his behaviour.”
“Binky I think you must calm yourself.”
“And let my country and my Queen down, never. Although I’m sure one will much content oneself in knowing and admiring the magical way in which the Sovereign’s acolytes will gently sidestep merely without word or motion, the kind of embarrassments presented by the Schultzes of this world.”
“Ah god bless poor dear old Schultz.”
“What’s that. Good gracious Basil, my dear. I mean you Lord Nectarine might imagine that all this is just hoo ha over nothing. But I remain most concerned. Did you know that Schultz on a previous occasion of rubbing shoulders in the better circles, not only borrowed a cigarette from a member of the royal family but also requested a match. Did your Royal Grace know t
hat.”
“No I did not Binky.”
“I was there. And of course I sank immediately downwards under the arches of some nice lady’s high heels. And amid the first hushed horror that the first request produced, absolute gasps followed by stunned whispers all over the place greeted Schultz’s asking of a light. Hey honey baby you got a light. Fortunately it was given by a nearby equerry. But of course your Amazing Grace, indeed, not only did this social clanger provoke the usual remarks of how did that person get in here. But most astonishingly Schultzy boy was, by the royal female personage who had given him the cigarette, also invited to lunch. Now how do we account for that. Can you elicit an insight from your long and unhurried moments mingling in such circles. It’s taxed my mind to the limit. I absolutely haven’t got a clue.”
“Times are changing you know Binky.”
“Yes and how sad my Lord.”
“And Binky we must not overlook the fact that Schultz is possessed of some faculty enabling him to blithely ignore some of the more superficial niceties. And I do think he is rather blessedly oblivious to his either being rejected or accepted.”
“Ah. Speak of the devil. You’re back Schultz. We were just this moment discussing you.”
Schultz with the knot of his tie undone. His Lordship’s fedora on his head. Sunglasses gleaming.
“Hey you fucking guys. You’re not trying to dream up more shit to put me through. My doctor’s bills cost me a fortune. You sons of bitches. And Binky, I suspect it’s you who dreamed up my diseases.”
“That aspersion you so rashly cast is wounding Schultz.”
“You nearly worried me out of my mind. I could have gone crazy if I didn’t have so much other fucking god damn things happening to me.”
“Ah Schultz, dear Schultz. We were only trying to keep your mind off your production worries.”
“Well boy, shit you nearly did. But boy let me tell you this tycoon. Five words it took him. How much do you need. And I told him. And a second later he said I’ll take half. Hey any mail for me.”