Mr. Peabody and the Mermaid Page #5

about this and I was telling her... that...

- Go on.

- Well, I know it sounds peculiar...

And what was Miss Mermaid

WEARING when you left her?

What was he wearing?

Oh, oh, no.

Now! Now! Wait! Wait! Wait!

Cathy! Cathy! Polly, I mean.

Polly!

Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday, Dear Arthur,

you're fifty today.

Congratulations.

- Now, you're a friend of Peabody's, aren't you?

- Somewhat.

How's that?

"Somewhat", it's... it's an American

vulgarism meaning "yes".

- Can't he speak English?

- Quite!

That's it... much better.

Well, the car's been identified as

Mrs. Peabody's, all very well and good...

except it now turns out that nobody's seen

Mrs. Peabody for at least a week.

'af a fortni't, egad.

You know, on second thought, old man,

I think I find you even more revolting

as an Englishman than I do as an American.

So, would you be good enough to revert

to your more normal loathsomeness?

Well, I...

- To resume...

- You only do that because you know it hurts me.

- Peabody himself is still at the Villa.

- Fellow won't answer his telephone.

- If I'd gone to Oxford,

you wouldn't do it.

- Won't answer the telephone,

won't answer the door.

No deliveries and no sign whatever

of Mrs. Peabody anywhere.

If I were the queen, you'd swallow

that thing, fire and all.

She's not staying at either of the hotels,

nor has left the Island by boat or plane.

Why should the fellow have a telephone

if he's not going to answer it?

In other words, it is all very peculiar,

even for an American couple.

And while there may be a perfectly

simple explanation for the whole affair,

I, for one, shouldn't be at all surprised

if the wretched woman were dead somewhere,

murdered, of course,

by that odious husband of hers.

He wouldn't like you either.

So, His Excellency suggests

that you make an unofficial

call first on the blighter and

see what you can find out,

before we turn the case over to the Police.

- Who? Me?

- Yes, you, right away.

Very well.

But, don't be surprised if this

leads to another Bunker Hill.

Might as well rip the ruddy thing out

if he isn't going to answer it.

The servants had all departed,

even before Polly.

But after the first

shock and distress,

I must say the situation was

not without its pleasanter aspects.

There's much to be said for a woman,

even an imperfect one...

who lives, breathes and exists

only for the man she loves.

You don't seem to have as many

goldfish as you used to.

- How did you get in here?

- Over the wall... I used to be a cat burglar.

Oh, well, you... would you join me

in a cup of coffee?

- No thanks.

- Anything else? Highball?

Highball? Huh!

You know that quack I told you about?

- Yes.

- I went back to him.

Well, isn't that a little silly

after your last experience?

Naw, I guess so, but you ought

to see that jerk's sister.

- So, what happened this time?

- Well, so, this time he figures maybe I'm allergic.

- To what?

- He don't know, naturally.

He's got to find out, being

a very thorough fellow,

he begins at the top of

the list with the "A" s.

So at five bucks a copy,

he's already inoculated me for...

alfalfa, alligators, aspirin,

Arabs, apes, Angle Worms,

anteaters, asparagus,

salted almonds and guess what?

- What?

- Alcohol.

Well, what can I do for you?

Well, they're whispering behind fans these

evenings that you're in something of a jam.

- Would you like a banana?

- Oh, oh, thanks.

In fact I hear there's already

a movement afoot to hang you.

- May I have the cream, please?

- Hum? Oh, sorry.

- Any particular reason?

- Just murder... Blue Beard stuff.

- Over a sea cow, one hears.

- Sea cow?

That's the rumor around Faye's Beauty Shop.

Some kind of a hobgoblin.

Oh! What the...

- Oh... I'm terribly sorry.

- What was it?

It was that creature I caught.

Oh, you cannot see

her, she hides, she's...

she's rather timid.

Timid? Gee! That stuff

hit me like a blowtorch!

If I may ask,

who told you about all this?

It was in the paper, the Miami paper.

In Miami they have gossip

columns about fish.

"A charter boat captain out of St. Hilda's

reports a Bostonian, named Peabody,"

"claims to have hooked a manatee that looks

enough like a human being to be one."

"Boy, what that square-faced

rum will do to a man."

- Where is Mrs. Peabody?

- None of your business, of course.

- Well, it's a cop's idea.

- Cops?

They found her station wagon on the side

of the Shore Road this morning,

and if she's not here to receive them

in person this afternoon,

they're liable to start

digging-up your cellar.

This is ridiculous.

All right then, give them

a ridiculous answer.

I never heard of anything so outrageous.

Is she here?

- No, but...

- Look, Arthur, whatever it is, it's okay with me.

I mean, if it's another

dame you're mixed up with,

just try and remember,

you're talking to a man who

has been shoved through the

meat grinder backward.

And you'll find this a

very sympathetic organ.

Well, it's NOT another woman... exactly.

All right, a misunderstanding.

Where lives a man who hasn't

been misunderstood by a woman?

I wonder if I could trust you?

My dear boy, is this a

time for character study?

We're two Americans surrounded by

the Redcoats, what choice have you?

Well, she's not here, I

don't know where she is,

she left the house, last

night, a week ago...

after a discussion involving my mermaid.

Now we're getting some...

Involving your what?

I caught a mermaid.

A charming, sweet,

lovely little mermaid.

- You mean with a tail?

- I suppose I should have followed Polly,

or at least gone after her

the next day, but what could I say?

She was RIGHT, i did love someone else.

Not the girl she thought, not her at all.

But this enchanting, young creature,

i did and do love.

Perhaps I better tell you how it happened.

Well... it's a very unusual story,

I'll say that for it.

Now, of course, i can't give her up.

Because even in this short time she's

come to mean so much to me that...

- Well, it's not an easy thing to explain.

- That I can see.

- You wouldn't understand.

- No, I... I guess not, but brother, what a story.

- What do you mean, "A story."?

- When the Mrs. sues.

Oh, that's ridiculous, Polly

wouldn't dream of doing such a thing.

I can see already see the head:

"Wife names fish."

Why, you're not going to tell them are you?

What else?

But I told you that in confidence,

I thought you understood that.

Isn't it dreadful, you know, when I was

addicted to alcohol and tobacco

I guess I was just about one of the

nicest guys you'd ever want to meet.

But ever since I've been taken off

the stuff, I'm just plain, low-down mean.

A heel from Heeltown, and worse than that,

I just don't seem to care.

Well, of all the...

But...

- Will the police really come?

- Oh, sure, what else have they got to do?

- And... Lenore?

- Claim her for the crown, I imagine.

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