Mystery of Tally-Ho Cottage (13 page)

‘Not really,’ said Fatty, with one of his grins. ‘I just let myself go, rather!’

He wore an old suit, too big for him, no collar but a scarf instead, and had brushed his hair over his forehead instead of back. In his pocket was a cap with a black shiny peak, a card with figures scribbled on it, backed by a small board, a pencil tied to it with string, and a torch.

‘No Electricity Board would employ you as a meter-reader,’ said Bets. ‘For one thing, you’re not only untidy but you don’t look old enough.’

‘Oh, I’ll soon remedy that!’ said Fatty, and put his hand into his pocket. He pulled out a silly little moustache and stuck it on his upper lip. At once he looked older. Bets laughed.

‘You look really dreadful! I’m sure no one would ever let you into their house!’

They turned off the main road and came into the little lane that led to the entrance gates of Tally-Ho. They got off when they came to the big gate-posts.

The big double gates were shut. There were two at each entrance to the long, curving drive. Fatty looked at them.

‘Well! Whoever drove in there with a car would have quite a business opening those big gates - they’re so heavy. I wonder why they’re shut.’

‘So that people can’t drive in, I suppose,’ said Larry. ‘Fatty, did you ring up the Chief about the house - to know if by any chance anyone had got into it last night?’

‘Yes, I did. And apparently even if the Lorenzos had keys to the back, front and side-doors it wouldn’t be any good,’ said Fatty. ‘All the doors have been bolted inside, except a side-door. The police bolted them all - and got out by the side-door, in which they have had a special lock fitted. So nobody can get in except the police - and they only by the side-door! Apparently there are a lot of valuable things in Tally-Ho belonging to its real owner - the one who let the house furnished to the Lorenzos.’

‘Oh. Well then we needn’t bother about the house,’ said Larry. ‘We’ll just concentrate on trying to find out if a car came here last night, and is hidden away somewhere.’

Fatty was looking at the ground, which was very frosty that day. ‘There are wheel-marks,’ he said, ‘but I can’t tell if they are old or new. Anyway, of course, they might be the marks of any police-car that has been here.’

Pip had gone up to the gates to look through them. He gave a sudden exclamation. ‘Look here - no car could come through these gates - they have a wooden bar nailed across them!’

The others went to see. Pip was right. A bar was nailed right across each of the double gates. Obviously the police did not mean anyone to go to the house at the moment!

‘Well, that rather rules out the Lorenzos coming by car, and leaving it in the grounds,’ said Fatty. ‘Let’s go to the river-path entrance, and see if Mr. Larkin is anywhere about. He might have something to say for once. You never know!’

They went back, and took the road down to the river-path. They were soon standing outside the wicket-gate.

‘Look!’ said Bets. ‘The swans again. What a pity we haven’t any bread for them!’

They stood and watched them, the big swans leading the little cygnets to the bank. A boat came by, the oars splashing in the water with a pleasant noise. The swans swam off out of the boat’s way.

‘Splash-splash!’ said Bets, remembering something. ‘Ern said he remembered hearing splashes in the night. I wonder now - could he have heard a boat?’

‘Gosh! I never thought of that!’ said Fatty. ‘A boat! Yes, they could have come by boat, of course! Let’s look and see if there’s one in the boat-house - that’s the boat-house belonging to Tally-Ho over there, isn’t it?’

It was. It was not locked. The children pushed the little door open and looked inside. A small boat lay there, bobbing gently on the little ripples that ran into the boat-house.

Fatty looked at it. Its name was Tally-Ho, so there was no doubt that it belonged there. He was about to step into it when he stopped. A shrill sound had come to his ears.

‘Ern’s whistle!’ he said. ‘My goodness, he must have got hold of a police-whistle! What a row! He’s whistled three times - that is to say he’s seen Mrs. Larkin. I’ll go and do my meter-reading. Have a look round the boat-house while I’m gone, you others. I’ll join you later!’

Fatty pulled on his cap with the black peak, and smoothed his ridiculous little moustache. He tightened the scarf round his neck, and off he went. The others grinned at one another.

‘He’ll be reading that meter in two minutes!’ said Pip. ‘I wish I was with him to see what happens.’

Fatty strode off to the wicket-gate and went through it, whistling loudly. He marched straight up to the door - and then saw Mrs. Larkin outside, with Poppet dancing about.

She looked round at him, startled. She really was a peculiar-looking person with her extraordinary wig, her dead-white face, and dark glasses. She sniffed loudly.

‘What is it?’ she said hoarsely, and coughed. She took out a dirty handkerchief from behind her dull red shawl, and wiped her nose vigorously. She coughed again and kept her handkerchief over her mouth, as if the cold air was too much for her.

‘You’ve got a bad cold, Mam,’ said Fatty politely. ‘Sorry to bother you, but I’ve come to read the meter, if it’s convenient.’

The woman nodded. She went to the little clothesline and began to take down some washing. Fatty took his chance and went into the house at once, hoping that Mr. Larkin was not there.

There was no one in the front room. Fatty took a hurried look round, and could see nowhere at all for anyone to hide. He went into a back room - a small bedroom in which the bed took up most of the room. Nobody was there either. Fatty looked under the bed to see if anyone was hiding there. No - there were only cardboard boxes and rubbish of all kinds.

The little dog suddenly ran in and put her tiny paws on his leg. Fatty petted her and she wagged her tail. The woman called her. ‘Poppet!’ and the poodle rushed out again. Fatty went into the third room, an untidy kitchen, with a miserable little larder. There was not much in it, and it was very dirty.

‘What a place!’ thought Fatty. ‘Certainly the Lorenzos are not being hidden by the Larkins - and anyway they’d never be able to endure hiding in a filthy little hole like this. Pooh - it smells!’

He looked at the ceilings of the three rooms, wondering if there might be an attic or boxroom up above. There was no trap-door, no opening of any kind. The Lorenzos were definitely not there - so that was that, thought Fatty!

The woman appeared at the little front door. ‘Ain’t you finished yet?’ she said, her harsh voice grating unpleasantly on Fatty’s ears. She sniffed and pulled her old shawl tightly round her.

‘Yes. Just going,’ said Fatty briskly, snapping the elastic round the card and the board he carried. ‘Bit of a job to find the meter. Well, so-long!’

He stepped out into the little garden. Then he looked back suddenly. ‘Can I get into Tally-Ho House to read the meters?’ he asked. ‘I did hear as the folk had done a bunk. Did you know them?’

‘It’s none of your business,’ said the woman sullenly. She sniffed again and shut the door. Poppet had gone in with her.

‘Well - I’ve learnt something definite - and that is that the Lorenzos are certainly not being hidden in that cottage!’ he thought, as he made his way to the wicket-gate.

He found Ern joist outside, waiting for him. Ern had done his job of watching and whistling and now wanted to join up with the others again. He stared hard at Fatty.

‘Lovaduck! You don’t half look queer with that moustache, Fatty,’ he said. ‘Did you find out anything?’

‘Only that the Lorenzos are definitely not there,’ said Fatty. ‘And we also decided that no car had been to the house last night, Ern, because the gates are nailed together with wooden bars.’

‘Oh,’ said Ern. ‘It couldn’t have been a car I heard then.’

‘Ern - do you think the splashing noise you heard could have been oars?’ asked Fatty, as they walked along to the boat-house.

‘Oars? Well, yes - they might have been,’ said Ern. He watched a boat coming up the river and nodded his head. ‘Yes, of course! The noise those oars make is exactly like the splish-splash noise I heard.’

‘Good! I didn’t think it could be the swans,’ said Fatty. ‘They swim so silently. Well, we think now that perhaps last night’s visitors came by boat!’

‘By boat! Where from?’ said Ern, startled.

‘We don’t know - we haven’t thought yet,’ said Fatty. He hailed the others as they came up to the boat-house. ‘Here’s Ern - and he thinks those splashes he heard mere made by the oars of a boat!’

‘Oh - it’s you, Fatty!’ said Bets, looking out of the boat-house door. ‘Any news? You don’t look very excited!’

‘I’m not,’ said Fatty, and went into the boat-house, where the others were waiting with Buster. ‘I went to read the meter - which I couldn’t find, by the way; and there are only three rooms in the place. There was absolutely no sign of the Lorenzos there. I only saw that awful woman with the wig and the sniffs. I must say she looks jolly ill.’

‘Oh. Then we’re all wrong again,’ said Larry, in disappointment. ‘The Lorenzos aren’t hiding here! Now we’ve got to think of something else. Do you suppose they just came and went away again - without even taking Poppet?’

‘Let’s get into the boat and talk,’ said Fatty. ‘We’re nice and private in this boat-house.’

They all got into the little boat and let it bob under them up and down, up and down, as the waves ran in and out.

‘What I can’t understand now is why the Lorenzos came last night - if it was them - talked to the Larkins, and then went away again,’ said Fatty. ‘And where did they come from, in the boat? They must have taken a boat from the opposite bank - or from somewhere further up or down the river…’

‘Maidenhead!’ said Bets, at once.

‘Why yes, of course - Maidenhead!’ said Fatty, at once. ‘What an ass I am! Of course - that’s why they went to Maidenhead - so that they could come here by river.’

‘Jolly long way to row,’ said Larry. ‘Miles!’

‘Did they come by motor-boat?’ wondered Fatty - and immediately got a clap on the back from Ern.

‘You’ve got it, Fatty! You’ve got it! That was the noise I heard last night! Not a car - nor an aeroplane - but a motor-boat!’

The boat rocked with Ern’s excitement! Fatty sat up straight. ‘Yes, Ern! That’s what you heard! And the oars you heard splashing were the oars of this boat going out in mid-stream to the motor-launch! She couldn’t come close in here because the water’s much too shallow!’

‘WHO took this boat out to the launch?’ said Larry at once. There was a pause as all the children sorted out these new ideas.

‘There must be somebody here who took out the rowing-boat and brought one or both of the Lorenzos back in it,’ said Pip. ‘And then probably took them back to the motor-launch again, as they’re not hiding here after all.’

‘Then, if that’s so, the only thing they could have come for would be to bring the picture here to hide!’ said Fatty.

‘Yes! And if it was Mrs. Lorenzo, she came to see her little poodle too,’ said Bets.

‘I think you’re right, Bets,’ said Fatty. ‘Certainly the poodle seems much happier now - and her little tail was wagging like anything. Just as if she had seen her mistress - and her master too, probably - and felt that they hadn’t really deserted her.’

‘I’m sure we’re right,’ said Daisy, in excitement. ‘We’ve reasoned it all out jolly well! The Lorenzos went to Maidenhead in order to get here by boat. They came by motor-boat - and old Larkin met them in this rowing-boat. He rowed them back here to the bank - helped them to carry the crated picture to shore - took Mrs. Lorenzo to see her precious dog…’

‘Yes! That’s when I heard the talking and the barking!’ said Ern, almost upsetting the boat in his excitement.

‘And then when the picture was put in some safe hiding-place, old Larkin rowed them out to the motor-boat again, rowed himself back here and put the boat in this boat-house - and went to bed,’ finished Fatty, triumphantly.

‘We’ve solved the mystery!’ said Ern, thrilled. The others laughed.

‘Indeed we haven’t, Ern,’ said Fatty. ‘We still don’t know the two important things - where the Lorenzos are - and where the picture is!’

‘Sright!’ said Ern, his excitement fading.

‘We really ought to have a JOLLY GOOD LOOK for that hidden picture,’ said Pip. ‘We know it was brought here last night - at least, we’re pretty sure - so it must be somewhere in the grounds. A big crate wouldn’t easily be hidden. It’s in some out-house or somewhere like that. It might even be buried.’

‘It’s too late to look for it now,’ said Fatty, looking at his watch.

‘Oh, Fatty - just let’s have a quick look round,’ begged Bets. ‘We could easily pop our heads into the greenhouses and out-houses.’

‘All right,’ said Fatty. ‘Let’s get out of this boat then. Be CAREFUL, Ern - you nearly upset us all, leaping out like that!’

‘I say - here’s something at the bottom of the boat,’ said Bets, ‘something bright.’ She bent down to get it. ‘Oh - it’s only a nice new drawing-pin, look!’

Fatty took it and stared at it. ‘I bet I know where that came from!’ he said, in excitement. ‘From the crate the picture was in! I bet this was one of the pins that pinned the label to the crate - big crates usually have labels fastened on with drawing-pins. This is a good find, Bets - it’s certain now that the picture and its crate were in this boat last night.’

‘Come on, quickly! Let’s find it!’ cried Pip, and he too almost upset the boat as he leapt out. Everyone felt suddenly excited again.

‘It’s a clue!’ said Bets, taking the pin from Fatty. ‘Isn’t it, Fatty? Our first real clue!’

Fatty laughed. ‘I hope so. Come on, Buster - keep to heel.’

They all left the boat-house and went back to the wicket-gate. They looked to see if the Larkins were anywhere about. There was a light already in the little cottage and the six felt sure that the old man and his wife were safely indoors.

They slipped silently into the grounds. Pip stopped and pointed over to a distant corner. ‘What’s that?’ he said. ‘It’s a bonfire, isn’t it? Let’s go and see it. I could do with a bit of warmth!’