Mr. and Mrs. Bunny—Detectives Extraordinaire! (5 page)

Madeline didn't stop to say hello; she had urgent business
and she didn't think Uncle Runyon would want Jeeves to know about the kidnapping. It would be too hard to explain without finally letting Jeeves in on Uncle Runyon's line of work. She crept silently up the drive past him and then slithered up the stairs to the house. Once inside, she ran upstairs to find Uncle Runyon's bedroom, prepared to wake him, but he was propped up on pillows, looking pale and ill. He was reading a magazine and seemed only mildly surprised to see her.

“Madeline, dear,” he said when she burst in. “What are you doing here? Or am I imagining you? My fever keeps spiking. Still, why imagine
you
? Why not imagine a big piece of pie instead? I have nothing against you personally, but I have to say, I prefer pie.” He closed his eyes and tried to change her into pie, but he could not. She still stood before him, berryless and devoid of whipped cream.

Madeline ignored this departure into pie and gave him an organized and coherent account of events before handing him the note.

“Extraordinary,” he murmured. Then he sighed. “Still, I do think you'd make a better piece of pie. Banana cream, maybe. Or any pie of your choice. I'm willing to give you some latitude on that. You don't suppose you could make more of an
effort
to be pie? Do something for a sick old uncle?”

“Uncle, honestly.”

“No cake, though. I'm not a fan.”

“Please.”

“It's the texture, I think. Too dry.”

“I am not interested in morphing into dessert, especially not now, with Flo and Mildred in trouble. In fact, even without their predicament. I am never going to be pie. Have you got that? NEVER PIE!”

“No need to shout.”

“I'm sorry you're ill, but you ought to think about Flo and Mildred. If you want pie, tell Jeeves to bring you pie. That's what he's here for, isn't he?”

“You know, I've never been entirely sure
what
Jeeves is here for. Some people, well,
most
people just seem to show up in your life with no clear purpose. Have you noticed that? They're like dust mites. You know they're
there
, you just don't know what to do about them.”

“Maybe we can talk about this sometime when no one has been kidnapped. Could you read the note again? I can't help feeling you didn't quite take it in.”

Uncle Runyon read the note once more and sighed. He stared at the ceiling, and Madeline thought he was finally on track and thinking of what must be done, when he suddenly said, “Do you think that's a spider up there or an ant?”

“UNCLE!”

“Hmmm? Oh. Right.” He sighed again. “You know, all these years I have been living in a fool's paradise. I really didn't think anyone cared about me or what I did.”

“Of course they do,” said Madeline reassuringly, even as she thought that surely now was no time to have to prop up his flagging ego. “I'm sure every enemy nation cares very much about what you do. You're the only decoder scientist in Canada!”

“Not the only one, dear, just the best,” corrected her uncle. “But even as the best, I ask myself, what difference have I made in the world? Sunday night on
60 Minutes
there was the most fascinating show about a woman who has spent her life studying the language of elephants. She is ready to compile an elephant dictionary. You know, you hear more and more of these stories, scientists finding out that birds not only speak to each other but they use syntax. Of course, I have always suspected that animals had sophisticated languages, but most
people just don't notice these things. They think animals are grunting mindlessly. But more and more we find certain humans who can speak the language of the animal. Horse whisperers, dog whisperers.”

“Oh yes,” said Madeline. “I've heard of those.”

“And now scientists suspect there are certain humans who can speak all animal languages. Think of it! To understand Bird and Deer and Cat! Why, the questions we could ask! The things we could learn! Those scientists haven't found the person who can do so yet, but it is clearly only a matter of time. They have found all kinds of language aptitude in the brains of the dog whisperers. And why not? Communication is all energy! Energy! Everything is energy!”

“Calm down,” whispered Madeline hopefully.

“How can I calm down? It's fascinating! Now,
those
scientists have done something worthwhile with their lives. Einstein believed that an underlying reality existed in nature that was independent of our ability to observe or measure it.”

“Yes, yes, that's all very interesting,” said Madeline, who was torn. It
was
interesting. She
would
like to learn more about it. But not
now
. “But it's not really the point, is it? Flo and
Mildred have been kidnapped because someone wants to get to
you
.”

“Yes, but why would anyone want
me
? Little old me?” Uncle Runyon assumed what he thought was a humble expression, but it only succeeded in making him look like a deranged basset hound.

Madeline took two steps back in alarm and then rallied.

“Who cares!” she wailed. “It doesn't matter why they want you. Once they figure out that Flo and Mildred have brains the size of lima beans, they are going to come back to the island to ask
me
where you are and I am going to
tell
them. Otherwise they might hurt Flo and Mildred. I just came to warn you so, you know, you can hide or something. And I was silly enough to think that maybe you would come up with a plan to help me save Flo and Mildred.”

“Oh, my dear, by the time they come for you they will have already disposed of Flo and Mildred, no matter what they tell you. Don't you ever read thrillers?” asked Uncle Runyon.

“WHAT?”

“Not a fan? What do you like to read, dear?”

“
Pride and Prejudice
and … what difference does it make?”

“Well, to begin with, no one gets kidnapped in
Pride and Prejudice
. No help for you there.”

“Uncle!”

“Oh, no doubt you've learned how to negotiate hunky men who ignore their dates, but for practical advice I think we need a writer like … hmmmm, Lee Child, perhaps. Now, he could instruct you that as soon as the kidnappers figure out Flo and Mildred can't help them, that's it for the poor dears. Kidnappers rarely keep the victims around. You can't blame them, really. All our houses are so uselessly cluttered, even without a bunch of bodies in the basement.”

“Uncle!”

“I burn things, but still, it's hard to keep up with the clutter.”

“Uncle!”

“You're safe here with me, but you mustn't go
home
, Madeline. That's the last place you should go. You can't help Flo and Mildred
there
. Only by us piecing together where your parents might be and getting to them before the enemy gives up interrogating them can you save Flo and Mildred.”

“Yes, that's what we need to do. Let's make a plan. Let's think.”

Uncle Runyon stared with great concentration at the ceiling. At last he said, “You know, I think I have it.”

“YES?”

“It took me the longest time to determine.”

“That's all right. Just spit it out.”

“I think it
is
a spider!”

“Oh, Uncle, that really is the last straw. I'm giving up on you. I'm getting Jeeves. Maybe he can help.”

At this, Uncle Runyon seemed to come fully awake. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no! We mustn't get
Jeeves
! We must never tell
Jeeves
!”

“Why not?”

“Oh, my dear, it's soooo hard to get good help. You really do have to coddle them, insulate them from any kidnappings or murders you might be engaged in. I mean, I don't even tell him when the drains get clogged.”

“Well, how are we ever going to find this enemy?” asked Madeline. “All you can find are spiders.”

“Yes, but it's a start. Stop frowning at me like that. Let me think,” said Uncle Runyon. “My brain is fuzzy. I'm not well,
you know. Pneumonia. My doctor said I'm just a heartbeat away from a coma.”

“Oh, Uncle!” said Madeline. “That's terrible. Not to mention very inconvenient.”

“Oh, it's not that bad. I'm just itching to have a coma, truth be told. I've heard they're very refreshing.”

“Well, for heaven's sake, don't have one now,” said Madeline. “There's work to be done. Maybe we should start with the police.”

“I really wish you had read at least
one
thriller. If the kidnappers say you can't go to the police, you really can't. I suppose I could call Ottawa, but that would take such time. Even getting requisition forms for paper clips takes weeks. I can't imagine how long it would take for them to approve some actual human help. They might not even believe us. Of course, we might get a few extra paper clips out of it.”

“Paper clips!” said Madeline.

“Don't say it like that. Paper clips
hold things together
. I've far more idea what they're doing in my life than Jeeves. I mean, I know there are people who go in for staples, but in my estimation, you can't beat a good paper clip. Now, what we need
are clues. If we only had clues! I'm afraid we're going to have to rely on you for those, since I wasn't there. I was here busy working on my coma.”

Clues, thought Madeline. What had she seen?

“Oh!” she said suddenly. “This will sound ridiculous, but I was almost run over by a car when I was walking home. It had blackened windows but out of them seemed to be looking dozens of red eyes. And I could swear I saw a fox driving. I know that's crazy.”

“Oh no, fascinating. Wait a second! That could be my niche! Plenty of people studying the language of animals, but who is studying their
driving skills
? Eh? Eh?”

Madeline stopped wringing her hands obsessively and took a closer look at her uncle. He seemed to be slipping over the edge. Perhaps he wasn't just being eccentric. Perhaps he was delirious. It was one thing to be Einstein and believe in nature's underlying reality. It was another to be her uncle and believe in nature's driving skills.

“Yes, we must find these foxes, not just to get your parents back but to begin my research! That's it. I've made my decision. I'm done with this decoding nonsense. I'm going to do
something meaningful with the rest of my life. I'm going to study comparative steering among species. How do deer negotiate roundabouts, as opposed to, say, chipmunks?”

“Oh, Uncle, let's get you some more Tylenol,” said Madeline. “Maybe we can pack you in ice until you make sense.”

“No time, it's after the foxes we go!” said Uncle Runyon, struggling out of bed.

Madeline pushed him back into it. “You mustn't get up. You're delirious with fever. You're crazy, you're—”

Uncle Runyon, who had taken hold of her sweater to steady himself, ended up with his hand in her pocket in an effort to keep his balance, and in doing so, he pulled out the file card that Madeline had found and forgotten about.

He sat back on his pillows and read it. “Aha! Fanny Fox's Canned Rabbit Products and By-products. By God, they're not just driving, they're running factories! There's a Nobel Prize here somewhere!”

“Oh, Uncle, really, it's probably just some lady with the last name of Fox. Where's your Tylenol?” Madeline was frantically searching the bedside table while her uncle read the file card.

“Very interesting—it's in code,” he said. “Of course, that's
why they wanted me. They wanted me to decode this. And really, I don't see why, it's just a r …” And with that, Uncle Runyon fell backward on his pillow.

“Uncle!” cried Madeline. “Uncle!”

But it was no good. Uncle Runyon had finally fallen into the coma he had been itching to have.

Madeline had the foresight to pick up the note and the file card before racing down to get Jeeves. He seemed as startled by her presence as by her announcement of Uncle Runyon's coma, but like the faithful and good manservant he was, he didn't voice his surprise. Instead, he telephoned the doctor, who came and confirmed Uncle Runyon's coma. The doctor promised he would send a nurse to stay at the manor house. Then Jeeves readied a guest room for Madeline.

Madeline went to it gratefully and sank into bed. It was three a.m., and she was too tired to try to think of what she must do next. She watched out the window as the last embers from the extinguished bonfire drifted up into the heavens. Flo and Mildred had never gotten themselves into a situation that she hadn't been able to fix. Would she wake up tomorrow stymied by this one? Or perhaps wake up to find out it was all a dream. Or that she was merely completely insane. That
would be a
huge
relief, she thought crankily. Or maybe I'll just have a coma. That seems like a popular option. She thought of Flo and Mildred with their jewelry making and candle burning and penchant for being kidnapped and Uncle Runyon with his spider watching and comas.
Grown-ups!
she thought. And then she fell asleep.