Mystery of the Hidden House (18 page)

“What sort of things, Goon?” asked the inspector. “Chimneys on fire or lost dogs or something? Can’t you manage them yourself?”

“No, sir. Yes, sir. I mean, sir, it’s nothing like that at all, sir,” said Mr. Goon, desperately. “My nephew’s disappeared, sir - and Master Trotteville went to find him - and now he’s gone too, sir, and so have Master Larry and Master Pip. I don’t know if it’s the robbers or the kidnappers have taken them, sir.”

The Inspector listened to this astounding information in surprise. “I’ll be right over, Goon,” he said, and hung up the receiver. He ordered his shining black car, got in and drove over to Peterswood, wondering what Master Frederick Trotteville was up to now. Inspector Jenks had a feeling that if he could put his finger on Master Trotteville he would soon get to the bottom of everything.

He drove to Mr. Goon’s house and found him in a state of collapse. “Oh, sir, I’m so glad you’ve come,” stuttered Mr. Goon, leading the inspector by mistake into the kitchen and then out again into the parlour.

“Pull yourself together, Goon,” said the Inspector, severely. “What’s happened, man?”

“Well, it all began when my young nephew, Ern, came to stay with me,” began Mr. Goon. “I warned the others, sir, not to lead him into no mysteries - you know what that young limb of a Frederick Trotteville is, sir, for getting into trouble - and the first thing I know is that there’s a mystery up on Christmas Hill, sir - two gangs there - one robbers and one kidnappers.”

“Most extraordinary, Goon,” said the Inspector. “Go on.”

“Well, sir, I went up to inspect one night - and sure enough there were lights flashing by the hundred all round me - red, blue and green, sir - a most amazing sight.”

“Quite a fireworks show” said the Inspector.

“Then sir, there were awful noises - like cows bellowing, sir, and hens clucking, and cats mewing and - and well, the most peculiar noises you ever heard, sir.”

The Inspector eyed Mr. Goon, sharply. He had a sort of feeling that if cows suddenly mooed on deserted hills, and hens clucked and cats mewed, there might possibly be some boy there having a fine old game with Mr. Goon. And that boy’s name would be Fatty.

“Then, sir,” said Mr. Goon, warming up, “a great hefty giant of a man flung himself on me, sir - got me right down on my face, he did. He hit me and almost knocked me out. I had to fight for my life, sir. But I fought him off, and gave him a fearful trouncing. He’ll bear the marks to his dying day.”

“And you caught him, handcuffed him and brought him back with you,” suggested the Inspector.

“No, sir. He got away,” said Mr. Goon, sadly. “Well, then, sir, I heard as how a robbery had been committed, and the loot, sir, was to be hidden in the old mill.”

“And how did you hear that?” asked the Inspector with interest. “And why not inform me?”

“I heard it from my young nephew, sir,” said Mr. Goon. “He got it from Master Frederick.”

“I see,” said the Inspector, beginning to understand quite a lot of things. That scamp of a Fatty! He had led poor Mr. Goon properly astray this time. Inspector Jenks regretfully decided that he would have to give Fatty a good ticking-off.

“Then, sir, my nephew disappeared. He just went out and never came back. Two days ago that was.”

The Inspector asked the question that Mr. Goon had been dreading.

“Was the boy in any trouble?”

“Well - a bit,” admitted Mr. Goon. “He - er - he wrote an extremely rude pome about me, sir - and I corrected him.”

“In what way?” asked the Inspector.

“I just gave him one or two strokes with a cane, sir,” said Mr. Goon. “But I’m sure that’s not what made him run away, sir - if he’s run away. He’s very fond of me, sir, and he’s my favourite nephew.”

“H’m,” said the Inspector, doubting all this very much. “What next?”

“Well, sir, Master Frederick told me he thought he knew where Ern was, and if I’d wait till night, he’d probably bring him back again. So I waited up all last night, sir, but Master Frederick didn’t come back - and now all the parents of those kids have rung up or come to see me to complain that their boys are missing!”

“This sounds rather serious to me,” said the Inspector. “Are you sure you’ve told me everything, Goon?”

“Well - everything that’s any use,” said Mr. Goon, hastily. “I went up after the loot, sir, but I couldn’t find it.”

“I wonder where in the world those four boys are!” said Inspector Jenks. “I can’t quite see where to begin looking for them. Or what to do. Where can they be?”

At that very moment three of the boys were staggering home! They had found their rope-ladder, climbed up over the wall, and dropped down the other side. They had lost their way, and wandered about for some time before they got back to the cart-track they knew. They were so tired that they hardly knew what they were doing.

By now it was getting light. Thankfully, Fatty, Larry and Pip stumbled along the banks of the little stream. What miles it seemed! At last they came to the bridge and made their way into the village.

“Better go to Goon first and tell him Ern’s all right,” said Fatty. “I’ll telephone the Inspector from there. Gosh, I’m tired!”

To the Inspector’s astonishment, as he stood looking out of the window, he suddenly saw Fatty, Larry and Pip walking like very tired old men up the street.

“Look, Goon!” he said. “Here are three of them. But no Ern!”

Mr. Goon groaned dismally. The three boys walked up his front path and knocked at the door. Fatty gaped with surprise and pleasure when the Inspector opened the door to him.

“Oh sir! This is lovely! You’re just the person I wanted to see,” he said, and shook hands warmly.

“You’re not fit to stand, any of you,” said the Inspector, looking at the dirty, tired-out boys. “Goon, put on some milk or cocoa for these three. They could do with something. Then ring up their parents and tell them they are safe. Get on with it, now!”

Goon hurried to do as he was told. No Ern! Oh, what had happened to him? He felt that if only Ern would come back he would never never again say a cross word to him. Never!

Fatty and the others sank into chairs. Pip’s eyes began to close.

“I’ll take you all back in my car,” said the Inspector. “You can tell me your story later. I already know about this, er - rather incredible mystery on Christmas Hill, Frederick - with flashing lights, mysterious noises, and the rest.”

“Oh that!” said Fatty. “That’s nothing, sir. That wasn’t a mystery at all.”

“So I gathered,” said the Inspector. “Ah, here is the cocoa. Thanks, Goon. Now ring up these boys’ people, will you?”

“Sir, may I ask just one question first?” pleaded Mr. Goon. “It’s about Ern. Is he all right?”

“Oh, Ern. Yes, he’s quite all right as far as I know,” said Fatty, taking a deep drink of the cocoa. “Gosh. I’ve burnt my mouth.”

“Drink up the cocoa, and then get into my car,” said Inspector Jenks, alarmed at the pale, worn-out faces of the three boys. Pip was fast asleep.

“Good gracious, sir! I’ve got a story that will keep you busy for the rest of the day!” said Fatty, feeling better for the cocoa. He took another drink.

“Don’t let Mr. Goon telephone to our people, sir,” he said. “You’ll want the phone yourself in another couple of minutes! I’ve got a first-class mystery for you, sir! All ready to hand you on a plate!”

A Neat Mystery - and a Neat Ending!

Mr. Goon came into the room, his big eyes bulging. “What do you mean? A first-class mystery! Haven’t you just said that mystery up on Christmas Hill wasn’t one at all? And what about those lights then, and those noises, and that giant of a fellow that nearly killed me? What about them?”

“Oh those!” said Fatty. “Larry and Pip flashed the lights. I made the noises. And I pounced on you in the ditch, thinking you were Ern.”

Mr. Goon collapsed like a pricked balloon. “Frederick must have been very strong if he seemed like a giant to you,” said the Inspector to Mr. Goon with a laugh.

“And the gangs, of course, werc all our make-up, just to play a trick on Ern,” said Fatty. “It wasn’t our fault if Mr. Goon believed everything too. We didn’t think he’d be as silly as Ern.”

Mr. Goon went red to the ears, but he said nothing.

“We threw down a lot of clues for Ern,” said Fatty, “and made a story up about some loot that was hidden in the old mill. We meant Ern to go and look, but instead of that poor Ern got a caning, and was locked up in his bedroom - and Mr. Goon went to find the loot instead. But it wasn’t there, of course.”

Mr. Goon wanted to sink down through the floor, but he couldn’t. He sat there looking very unhappy indeed. That pestering boy!

“Well, Inspector, what began the real mystery was this,” said Fatty, taking another drink. “Ern went off to Christmas Hill, as he thought - but lost his way, and saw one or two queer things over at Bourne Wood. And that set us thinking.”

“Go on,” said the Inspector. “So you did a bit of detecting?”

“Yes, sir,” said Fatty, modestly. “We soon knew there was something fishy going on at Harry’s Folly, sir - the building in the middle of Bourne Wood. We went to see the caretaker - the man at the lodge called Peters - and we made a few inquiries about a man called Holland, who seemed a pretty queer customer…”

“Holland?” said the Inspector, sitting up straight. “What do you know about him?”

“Quite a lot, now,” said Fatty, with a grin. “Why, do you know him too, sir?”

“We’ve been suspicious of him for a long time,” said the Inspector. “But there was never anything we could put our finger on. Lived quietly with an old aunt in Peterswood, gave to the churches around - all that kind of thing - and yet his name cropped up here and there in queer circumstances. Well - go on…”

“I disguised myself as Ern one day and went over to Holland’s garage to make inquiries - and he must have recognized my name, sir - as being - er - well, a bit of a detective, sir - and so, when he saw Ern wandering around alone in a lonely lane, he kidnapped him - thinking he was me, sir.”

“I see,” said the Inspector. Mr. Goon sat and looked as if he really couldn’t believe his ears!

“Ern was clever, sir,” said Fatty. “He threw a whole lot of clues out of the car - pretending he was feeling sick, or something, I should think - and Mr. Goon here picked them up and gave them to me.”

Mr. Goon gulped. The Inspector looked at him. “Very kind of Goon. I suppose he knew you would make good use of them.”

“Yes, sir. Actually he thought we’d put the clues there ourselves to fool him. As if we’d do a thing like that sir!”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it past you,” said the Inspector. “But go on. We’re wasting time.”

“I did a bit of deduction, sir, and thought Ern must have been kidnapped and was probably taken to Harry’s Folly. So I and Larry and Pip set off to rescue him last night. We got in, sir, rope-ladder and all that - and found the house deserted. But in the garage, sir - my word!”

Goon and the Inspector were listening hard now. Pip was still fast asleep in his chair.

“There was a movable floor there, sir, that sank right down. It takes cars. They go down on it like a lift and then run slowly down a winding passage, deep underground. And there’s a workshop there, sir - with heaps of cars being repainted and done over…”

The Inspector whistled. “My word! So that’s where it is! We’ve been looking for that workshop for a long time, Frederick. You remember, Goon, I reported it to you two years ago and asked you to keep a lookout in your district, as we had information it was somewhere here. And there it was, all the time, right under your nose! Well done, Frederick, my boy!”

“We found Ern, sir, and he said he’d stay in his locked room all night long, so that his escape wouldn’t raise the alarm. It would give us a chance to get back here and warn you, sir, so that perhaps you could catch the whole gang at work.”

“Very brave of the boy,” said the Inspector, approvingly. “Good work! I hope you agree with me, Goon?”

“Yes, sir,” mumbled Goon, marvelling at the idea of Ern appearing suddenly as a hero.

“So we left him there, and had a hard job getting out unseen,” said Fatty. “Went out in one of their own lorries in the end! And here we are!”

“A very fine job of work, Frederick,” said the Inspector, getting up. “And now, as you so wisely said, I shall have to use the phone for a few minutes.”

Inspector Jenks went to the telephone and dialled rapidly. Larry and Fatty listened raptly. Pip still slept peacefully on. Mr. Goon looked gloomily at his hands. Always that boy came out on top. And Ern a hero, too! It wasn’t possible that anyone could have such bad luck as Mr. Goon!

Inspector Jenks spoke rapidly and to the point. Fatty listened in glee. Six police cars! Whew, what a round-up! He dug Larry in the ribs and they both grinned at one another.

The Inspector stopped telephoning. “Now I’m going to take you all home,” he said. “It will be a few minutes before the police cars come along. Wake Pip up, and we’ll get cracking.”

“Look here, Inspector, I’m going with you to Harry’s Folly, aren’t I?” said Fatty, in alarm. “You wouldn’t be so mean as to leave me out of the end of it, would you? After all, I’ve done all the dirty work so far, and so have Larry and Pip.”

“All right. You can come with me if you want to - in my car,” said the Inspector. “But I may as well tell you that you won’t be in the thick of it - only a sightseer! Now do wake that boy up and bring him along.”

Larry and Fatty half-carried the sleepy Pip to the Inspector’s car. Then, with a roar, the engine started up and the powerful car sprang forward. Pip was deposited at his house with a few words of explanation. He sat down in a chair and again went off to sleep, in spite of Bets’ frantic questions.

Then to Larry’s home, where poor Larry was ordered to stay behind. Then to Fatty’s own home, where a half-mad Buster hurled himself at Fatty as if he bad been away for a year.

“Frederick is safe,” said the Inspector to Fatty’s surprised parents. “Bit of marvel, as usual. Do you mind if I borrow him for a time? All news when I see you again.”

And Fatty was whipped away again in the car, with a very happy Buster on his knee, licking the underneath of his master’s chin till it dripped.