Okay gang...
SPOILER!!!! HERE IS CHAPTER 24:
24. Chas
Chas gripped the phone, listening to Cantrell’s rapid speech as a series of hailstones rapping the top of his head, and he rubbed his eyes.
“Excuse me, Inspector, do you suppose you could go through that all again, at thirty-three and a third? I seem to have lost my ability to listen to being yapped at.”
“Well ya ain’t heard the end a bein yapped at, Butterfield.”
“Butterworth. Please just call me Jeeves, it’s easier that way.”
“So ya want ta press charges against this... Nick...”
“Sampson, yes. He has laid my cheek quite open, and I have an enormous hematoma.”
“Uh huh. An you did nothin whatsoever, in your innocent angelic butler way, ta incite this punch, is what yer claimin, is that right?”
“Valet. I was merely trying to get him to be calm in his state of overt and belligerent drunkenness so he would not hurt my friend.”
“Meanin – Lance.”
“Yes.”
“And innocent angelic little Lance did nothin whatsoever that could be imagined to have provoked aforementioned drunk on his ass sailor to have considered incitin ta violence in the legal sense a the term.”
“I wasn’t in the room durin the...”
“The answer is no, then, he was provokin em.”
“Most likely, yes,” Jeeves sighed. “Inspector –“
“Chief Deputy.”
“Chief Deputy, this is all quite beside the fact. I have a rather insulting and garish injury from this belligerent pup’s assault, and I want him punished for it.”
“All right. He’s in dryout now down at the station, I’ll tell em you’ll be by ta make yer complaint. But you realize what this means in terms a the bar don’t you?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“I’m gonna have ta ban ya from the Red Stallion. The sailor boy too. An a course, fire Lance for bein involved in the scuffle. Once things get ta complaints an courts, I can’t have the complainaints an the defendants an all that hangin around the bar at all. An it’d have ta be permanent. But... that’s the price ya pay if ya want a belligerent pup punished for takin a wild swing in a moment a anger.”
“You cad.”
“Chief Deputy cad ta you, Jeeves. So we’ll play it any way ya like. Or ya can just take my offer a gettin yer face fixed up, go see a doc, get stitches or whatever ya need, have em make out the bill ta me, and stay away from the young pup in the future.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“I’ll have em keep yer assailant in lockup till someone can see em home, so ya got a couple of hours ta decide ta charge em. You just let me know, Lauren’s got my number.”
“Thank you for very little, Inspector.”
“You are very welcome, Butterfield.”
Chas hung up the phone, trembling with anger. “What god awful insulting cheek that man has.”
“What’d he say?” Lance was hovering. Chas looked at him mournfully. “If I press charges against him, we’re all going to be banned from the bar and you’ll lose your job.”
“Fuck that,” Lance said, sagging down onto a barstool.
At that moment, Jeremy came in through the back door and hung up his coat, making his way to the bar. His eyes widened as he saw the surgical tape and bandage on Jeeves’ face. “Hey, Chas, what the hell happen ta you?”
“Your sailorboy popped me in the eye.”
Lauren cleared his throat. “Not quite that simple. Jeremy, Willy took Nick over to the station a bit ago. He was drunk an got into it here with Lance.”
Jeremy blinked at Jeeves. “So how’d you end up gettin hit?”
“I was... intervening.”
“Stickin his nose in he means,” Lauren said. “Never ever grab a drunk from behind, Jeeves. Ya got a lot ta learn about bein a bar fly.”
“I assumed there was little violence among the more effeminate set,” Jeeves retorted. “I think you Americans are all a bit mad.”
Jeremy frowned. “Intervenin in what?”
Jeeves raised his chin. “A bit of a heated discussion over you, I believe, Jeremy. I recommend you steer far clear of him, he is obviously out of control and means you no good.”
“That ain’t for you ta say, Jeeves,” Jeremy said, and then turned to Lance. “An what’d you say? You got no call ta be gettin into it with Nick.”
“Nothin. I got the right ta remain silent.”
“Only if you get charged with a crime. I asked you what the fuck you said to Nick Lance.”
“He probly can’t even remember. Tauntin em mostly about you datin women.”
“He gave as good as he got,” Lance pouted, shifting uneasily on the barstool. Jeremy took a step closer and grabbed a handful of Lance’s shirt, leaning in close.
“Leave Nick alone, unless you want your face messed up a whole lot worse than Jeeves’ is right now, boy. Don’t say word one ta him about me or about nobody. I ain’t your business, an you are a troublemaker. An I intend ta tell Ellery that, in no uncertain terms. Either you go, or I go, but one of us has got ta go.” He loosened his hand, and Lance shrunk back into himself.
Jeeves laid a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “You know you were out of line, Lancelot.”
“Fuck you, Jeevesy, don’t take his side. If you weren’t droolin over his ass none a this woulda even happened!” Lance said. “I’ll save everybody the trouble an go now!” He stalked to the coat rack and grabbed his hat and coat, shoving his arms in it, then turned, face red with anger, pointing a finger at Jeeves.
“An no, I ain’t comin over ta fuck tonight, so don’t even ask!”
“Lance...” Jeeves said softly. “Don’t....” But Lance was not to be stopped, and banged open the front door.
“Don’t let the door hit yer ass on the way out,” Jeremy said.
“You were too harsh on him,” Jeeves commented.
“Let me repeat somethin yer boyfriend said earlier in case ya didn’t hear it, Howard.”
“What’s that, Jeremy?” Jeeves said.
“Fuck you.”