Mystery of Banshee Towers (12 page)

“Well, unless they stopped on the way to have ice-creams or something, they will be home before us,” said Ern.

“They’d hardly stop for ice-creams when they knew we were in trouble!” said Fatty.

“No, I forgot that,” said Ern. “Come on - let’s go downstairs, slip out of the front door with the dogs, and run down the hill to where we left our bikes underneath that bush.”

They went down the stairs with the two excited dogs, both wagging their tails madly, though as Ern pointed out, Bingo’s tail
waved
rather than wagged, it was so very very long!

They opened the front door and slipped out, shutting it quietly behind them. They made their way cautiously down the hill, keeping close to the hedges, half-afraid of seeing Mr Engler and his companions somewhere about. The two dogs, sensing that all was not quite right with their masters, pressed close to their heels, and didn’t even attempt to go sniffing for rabbits.

At last they came to where they had left their bicycles, hidden in bushes. They looked round for the bicycles belonging to the other four, but they were gone.

“Good - then they got down the banshee passage safely.” said Fatty. “They can’t really be very much in front of us now - we were pretty quick down that hill!”

They were soon riding fast down the rest of the hill, the dogs bumping in their boxes behind. It was a miracle that they didn’t fall out, for the boys went so fast.

“What do we do when we get back?” shouted Ern. “I hope you won’t go and report everything to my Uncle Goon. I wouldn’t like that. You know I’m in trouble with him!”

“Don’t worry, Ern. We hold all the winning cards now,” shouted back Fatty, comfortably. “I rather think we ought to go over Goon’s head, and get in touch with Chief Inspector Jenks. We know him quite well enough. This is a bit too big a thing for a village policeman to handle.”

“Luvaduck!” said Ern. in awe. “But won’t the Chief Inspector think it’s a bit cheeky of us to telephone him? I mean, he’s a Big Noise, he is.”

“We’ll get back to my shed first,” said Fatty, freewheeling very fast. “And find out where the others are. They can’t have been back very long. My word, Ern -I’m beginning to feel bucked. I’m seeing daylight! The Mystery is dissolving - everything FITS!”

“Go on, Fatty!” said Ern, disbelievingly. “It’s just a muddle to me, straight it is! Fits! The only fits
I
know are the ones I’ll have when my uncle gets hold of me! Oooh, Fatty, go slower - old Bingo nearly shot out of his box just then. FATTY!”

Fatty and Ern arrived at Fatty’s home safely, much to Buster’s relief. Part of the road had been so bumpy that poor Buster had found himself wishing he had sharp cat-claws to hold on with, instead of his own blunt ones! He had decided that he didn’t want to go bicycling with Fatty ever again. Bicycling and dogs didn’t really go very well together!

He and Bingo jumped gladly out of the boxes tied on to the back mudguards, and Buster went to see if anyone had put something good into his enamel bowl. Ah - kind old Cookie! She had filled his bowl with some nice fresh meat. Bingo rushed up too - and, hungry as he was, Buster remembered his manners, and allowed Bingo to share.

“Good, Buster, I’m pleased with you,” said Fatty. “We’ll buy a good dollop of meat for Bingo, and I’m sure he’ll share his with you too. Now you two dogs stay out here.”

He opened the door of his shed. No one was there! “Where are the others?” he said, looking round. “Gosh - I hope they’re all right. What’s happened to them? We certainly didn’t pass them on the way!”

“Perhaps one of them had a puncture,” said Ern - and as it happened, he was quite right! Larry’s front tyre suddenly went flat, and he and the others had stopped at a little opening in a nearby wood, while Larry mended the puncture.

Ern and Fatty had actually cycled past them, and hadn’t even seen them, or heard their shouts!

“You simply
whizzed
by,” complained Larry, when at last he and the others arrived at Fatty’s workroom. “We yelled and shouted, but you were gone - psssst! like that! Sixty miles an hour - and the two dogs bumping up and down like apples in a basket!”

“Fatty, are you all right? What happened when we left you?” said Bets. “I was so afraid those men might hurt you!”

“Oh,
we
were all right,” said Fatty, hurriedly pulling his coat sleeves down as far as they would go, to hide the painful red lines round his wrists. “We found out a whole lot of interesting things, Bets. We must have a Meeting at once!”

But before they could really settle down to it, someone came knocking at the shed door, opened it and looked in. “Frederick, are you there? There’s someone on the telephone for you.”

“Oh, Mother, can’t you say I’m busy or something!” said Fatty, exasperated. “We’re JUST starting a most
important
Meeting.
Really
important.”

“All right dear, I’ll go back and tell Chief Inspector Jenks what you say,” said his mother, and shut the door.

But Fatty leapt up with a yell. “MOTHER! Wait! You didn’t say it was Inspector Jenks! Mother, I’m coming straightaway!”

Ern looked round at the others, as Fatty shot out of the door at top speed, Buster at his heels. “I bet the Inspector’s heard of our discoveries at Banshee Towers,” he said, pleased. “I expect he wants to ask Fatty a whole lot of questions. Funny how old Fatty always seems to get in on things first, isn’t it? My word, you wait till Fatty tells you what we discovered this morning!”

Fatty ran all the way up the garden to his house, his mind conning over likely reasons for the Chief Inspector’s telephone call.

“Probably he’s heard about the Banshee Towers’ goings-on - the wailing banshee, for instance - and maybe he’s suspicious of Mr Engler’s doing. Well, I can certainly give him some up-to-date information,” thought Fatty, feeling pleased.

He ran to the telephone and picked up the receiver. “Chief Inspector Jenks? Frederick Trotteville here, sir. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Frederick, I’ll come to the point at once,” said the Chief. “I’m sorry to say I’ve had a serious complaint about you. I expect you have a perfectly good explanation, and I sincerely hope you have.”

Fatty felt most alarmed. “What’s all this about, sir?” he asked, bewildered.

“Well, actually there are
two
complaints!” said the Chief. “One,
not
very serious, from Mr Goon, about Ern, who, he says, was put in his charge by Ern’s mother and who has run away and is being harboured by you in your shed.”

“That’s quite right, sir,” said Fatty, at once. “And I’m sure you won’t blame me, sir. Goon went for poor old Ern, and he…”

“I’m afraid Ern will have to go
back
to Goon,” said the Chief. “It’s his mother’s wish - and parents do have
some
rights, you know.”

“All right, sir. I’ll see to it,” said Fatty, feeling very, very sorry for Ern.

“The second complaint, Frederick,” said the clear voice down the telephone, “the second complaint is much more serious. It’s been put in by a Mr Engler, the owner of Banshee Towers. He accuses you of breaking into the Towers, with another boy, whose name he doesn’t know - and there are also two dogs complained of. Apparently dogs are not allowed inside, and you were told this - and yet you were found there with a
couple
! Whose is the second dog?”

“Ern’s,” said Fatty, in a small voice. His heart was sinking down and down and down.

“ERN’S! I didn’t even know he
had
a dog!” said the Chief.

“Yes, sir, he has. Called Bingo,” said Fatty.

“What on
earth
were you and Ern and two dogs doing wandering about Banshee Towers?” demanded the Chief. “Apparently it was closed for the day, and the doors were locked. Frederick, surely you
didn’t
break in anywhere?”

“Well, not exactly
break
in, if you mean smash locks or windows or anything like that,” said poor Fatty. “We certainly did
get
in - we…”

The Chief gave a deep groan. “You are a very, very foolish boy, Frederick. You have played right into this fellow Engler’s hands. He is a smart, spiteful, clever crook. We’ve been trying to pin something on him - and now you’ve messed things up by putting yourself in
his
hands, Frederick. I simply do not know how I’m going to get you out of this fix.”

“I know he’s a crook, sir.” said Fatty, in a small voice. “We were trying to catch him out sir - that phoney banshee wailing, for instance, and…”

“
You
knew he was a crook!” said the Chief, very surprised. “How on earth… look here, Frederick, I’d better come round and see you. I simply never know what you are up to. The sooner you grow up and join the police force so that I can
really
keep my eye on you, the better. Stay at home till I come. That’s an order, see?”

He slammed down the telephone, and Fatty put back his own receiver, most surprised to find his hand shaking. Gosh - this wasn’t funny at all. What in the world would his father say?

“I suppose I must be getting a bit too big for my boots,” said Fatty to himself. “My word, I’ve never heard the Chief go off the handle like that before! Did I feel a worm? Yes, I certainly did. I only wish I had a nice, deep hole to go to!”

He called to his mother. “Mother! The Inspector will be along in a little while. Will you tell him we’re down in my shed, please?”

Then away he went, hoping that his mother wouldn’t call him back and ask him awkward questions. He opened the door of his shed, and went in.

“You look gloomy, Fatty. What’s up?” said Bets, at once. Fatty sank down dramatically into a chair, sighed and passed his hand over his forehead.

“Well, I rather think I may have to go to prison - or to Borstal or somewhere,” he said. “Old man Engler has put in a complaint about me - charged me with Breaking and Entering Banshee Towers. And Mr Goon has
also
put in a complaint - that when Ern ran away, I ‘harboured’ him.”

“You never harboured me!” said Ern, who hadn’t the faintest idea of what “harbouring” really meant. “I’m not a ship! You just gave me board and lodging, Fatty - let me stay here in your shed.”

“Well - that’s another way of saying that I ‘harboured’ you - gave you shelter,” said Fatty.

Ern jumped up at once. “I’ll go back to my uncle’s then,” he said. “I won’t let you get punished because you’ve been kind to
me
, Fatty! That’s not fair!”

“Sit down, Ern,” said Fatty. “We can’t do anything for the moment. Chief Inspector Jenks is coming along here soon. I’ll have to wait for him. I’d like you all to stay, though.”

“Is my uncle coming too?” said Ern, fearfully.

“I don’t think so.” said Fatty. “Gosh - wouldn’t
I
like to put in a complaint about your
uncle
, Ern. In fact I can think of several complaints I could put in.”

“Nothing to what
I
could think of,” said Ern, gloomily. “Shouting at me and almost deafening me. Clipping me on the ear. Pushing me around. Taking my…”

“Listen - someone’s coming,” said Fatty, his ears even sharper just then than those of the dogs. “I heard a car draw up outside our front gate, I’m sure.”

“You couldn’t have, Fatty!” said Larry. “It’s right down the garden, and…”

But just then the two dogs set up such a loud barking that nobody could hear anyone speak. “SHUT UP!” shouted Fatty, making a dive for Buster. “Do you want me to be had up for creating a noisy disturbance, Buster! Ern, get hold of Bingo. They both seem to have gone mad.”

A loud knock came at the shed door, and the two dogs almost barked the place down. Then the door opened and there stood Chief Inspector Jenks, tall, burly, keen-eyed - but not smiling as he usually was. He looked round the little company.

“Oh - so
all
the Find-Outers are here, are they?” he said, and smiled. Fatty was most relieved to see that smile. Perhaps the Inspector wasn’t going to be too hard on him after all.

“Well, little Bets, so you’re here too, are you?” said the Chief Inspector and patted her head. She caught hold of his hand.

“Inspector Jenks, you won’t take Fatty to prison, will you?” she said, in a suddenly choky voice. “He’s just been working hard on a mystery, that’s all. We all have.”

“Cheer up, Bets - I couldn’t take him if I tried!” said the Chief. “He’s not old enough. Still a kid, you know - bit too big for his boots sometimes, that’s all. Well, now, how’s everybody? My word, here’s a new dog. What’s your name, sir?”

“Bingo,” said Ern, with such pride in his voice that everyone smiled. “He’s
my
dog, sir. My very own. You should see him play with Buster here - they’re a pair, they are.”

“He’s a nice dog. Ern,” said the Chief, and patted Bingo, who immediately rolled over on his back in delight. “I gather your uncle doesn’t like him. I can’t imagine why.”

“Nor can I, sir,” said Ern. “Sir, you won’t let my uncle take him away from me, or anything like that, will you?”

“We’ll talk about you and Bingo later,” said the Inspector, “and see what can be done. It’s Frederick here I’m worried about. This man, Engler, Frederick, certainly has a sound complaint against you. What do you know about him?”

“I know a great deal,” said Fatty. “And very surprising it is, sir. The others don’t yet know all the things I know -
they’ll
be surprised too! I rather think you’ll turn your attention to Mr Engler, sir - and one or two others - when I’ve finished telling my story!”

Inspector Jenks looked most surprised. He took out his pipe and began to light it, puffing out smoke. Then he sat back comfortably in his chair.

“Tell your story, Fatty,” he said, in a much more friendly tone. “I’m ready - no embroidery, mind - just the plain facts - ones that you are absolutely sure of!”

Buster sat up straight, and Bingo sat up straight too. They were going to listen with as much interest as everyone else,

“Well, sir,” said Fatty, in a very serious voice. “It all started with the disappearance of a tiny boat in a big picture…”

There was dead silence in the shed, as Fatty told the story of the Banshee Mystery.