Mystery of the Missing Man (11 page)

Mr. Goon loomed up majestically. “Get on with your work, woman,” he said, shocked that a cleaner should talk to anyone at the Conference. The old creature gave him a sharp look out of screwed-up eyes and moved away with her duster, flicking it here and there.

“Wonderful creatures, beetles, Mr. Goon,” said Fatty, in the extra-polite tones that Mr. Goon disliked and distrusted. “Have you seen the Seven-Spotted Helmeted Kicking Beetle from Ollaby-Oon in Grootenburgenstein?”

“Gah!” said Mr. Goon, and gave Fatty one of his fiercest glares. He moved away ponderously. That boy! Him and his Helmeted Beetles - that was a dig at him, of course, because he wore a helmet!

Mr. Tolling was extremely surprised to hear Fatty speak of a Seven-Spotted Helmeted Kicking Beetle from Ollaby-Oon in Grootenburgenstein, wherever that was.

“Er - that is a new kind of beetle to me,” he said. “Are you sure you’ve got the name right, Frederick?”

“Well, it might be the Five-Spotted one I mean,” said Fatty. “I’ll just have a look round the cases and see if they’ve got the beetle I’m thinking of.”

As Fatty had invented the beetle that very minute it was not likely that he would find it displayed anywhere, nor did he intend to look. An idea had suddenly come into his head. He moved off, leaving Mr. Tolling to gaze earnestly into every case to see if by any chance the beetle Fatty had quoted was being shown.

The old woman was dusting vigorously just behind where Goon was now standing. It had occurred to Fatty that it might be rather interesting to go over to Goon and ask him a question that might also interest the old woman, Mrs. Fangio.

“Oh - Mr. Goon - I’d just like to ask you a question, if you don’t mind,” said Fatty, politely.

Goon stared at him suspiciously. Now what was up?

“What’s that?” he said.

“Well - I wondered if you had seen a man here with a thin scar curving above his upper lip,” said Fatty, in a voice loud enough to reach old Mrs. Fangio, busy dusting behind the big policeman.

Mr. Goon was startled - especially as he himself had been looking out all the afternoon for exactly what Fatty had just described. So Fatty was on the same job as he was - trying to spot that escaped prisoner! Why had the Chief Inspector told this toad of a boy anything about the case? He began to swell with rage, and his face turned a familiar purple.

But Fatty was not watching Goon. No - he was looking closely at the old woman standing just behind. Her back had been turned when he asked the question - and for a few seconds she kept it turned, standing suddenly very still. Then she swung round and looked at him - a puzzled, half-amazed look that turned in a twinkling to an extraordinarily malevolent glare that shocked him.

Then she turned round and began dusting again, moving away as she flicked her duster here and there.

Mr. Goon was saying something to Fatty in an exasperated voice, but Fatty had no idea what it was. He had discovered what he wanted to know - that the old woman knew what he meant, just as her daughter Lucita had known - yes, both of them knew the man with the scar!

Did they also know where he was hiding? Was he in Peterswood - perhaps in the caravan colony? Well - that was something that Fatty meant to find out!

Tea-parties

Fatty soon began to feel bored. He was longing to get back home and work out what he could do next. To his delight he discovered that Eunice was bored too.

“I thought you adored beetles,” he said.

“Well, I don’t,” said Eunice. “Nor would you if you’d been to as many Beetle-Shows as I have. But I have to back my father up, and go with him. Can’t we go off and have some tea somewhere?”

Fatty began to think that Eunice wasn’t so bad after all. “But what will your father say?” he asked.

“Oh, I’ll just tell him that you’ve kindly asked us both, out to tea, and I don’t want to disappoint you,” said Eunice.

“But I haven’t asked your father,” said Fatty. “Must we? I really don’t want to hear another word about beetles today or ever.”

“He won’t come,” said Eunice. “Nothing will make him leave this Conference and the beetles until he’s turned out. You’ll see.”

Eunice was quite right, and Fatty marched out with her, giving Mr. Goon a condescending nod as he passed him.

“Hey,” said Mr. Goon, whose mind was still puzzling about Fatty’s curious question to him. “Hey - a word with you, please, Master Frederick. About that man - You-Know-Who…”

“Another time, Goon,” said Fatty, exasperatingly, and ran down the steps of the Town Hall.

“What man does the policeman mean?” asked Eunice, curiously. “Why did you speak so shortly to him - he’s nice. That’s the one who helped me to fight that awful old tramp the other day. The one who was in your shed, smoking a pipe - and was so violent, you know.”

“Yes - I know,” said Fatty. “I know that tramp very well indeed. As well as I know myself in fact. And he’s not violent, nor does he smoke a pipe.”

“You don’t know anything about him!” cried Eunice. “You weren’t there - you only came along afterwards.”

“I was there all the time, if you’ll pardon me contradicting you,” said Fatty.

“I wish you wouldn’t talk in riddles,” said Eunice, pettishly. “You’re supposed to be intelligent, but honestly no one would think it sometimes. I consider it was jolly brave of me to tackle that tramp. You’re only saying that he wasn’t violent just to make out that I’m not brave after all.”

“Let’s drop the subject,” said Fatty, feeling sure that he would tell Eunice the truth about the tramp if the quarrel went on any longer. “Look - here’s a tea-shop. Will this one suit Your Majesty or not?”

“I’m not going to have tea with you if you talk like that,” said Eunice, beginning to be afraid that at last she had met someone who could exasperate her to tears.

“Right,” said Fatty, in his extra-polite voice. “I’ll go in here and have tea, and you can go into another tea-shop and have tea. I’ll come in and pay your bill when you’ve finished. Will that suit you?”

Eunice glared at him and gave in. She followed him into the little tea-shop and sat down. “I’ll have buttered toast and some of those cream cakes,” she said.

“Jolly good idea,” said Fatty, and gave the order. The waitress brought an enormous pile of buttery toast and a dish of marvellous cakes.

“I can’t possibly eat all this toast,” said Eunice.

“You don’t have to,” said Fatty. “Half is mine.”

“You’re slimming,” said Eunice. “You surely can’t be so weak-minded as to eat half that buttered toast and half those cakes!”

“Gosh - why do I keep on forgetting I’m slimming?” groaned Fatty, looking longingly at the two full dishes. Eunice had trapped him properly! It would be weak-minded to eat his share, now that she had reminded him he was slimming - and yet he couldn’t bear to sit and watch her gobble up the whole lot, as she most certainly would. Greedy pig!

Then, to his enormous delight, he saw Pip and Bets passing the shop. He shot out of his seat and hurried to the door. “Pip - Bets - come on in and have some tea with me? Quick!”

In delighted surprise Pip went into the tea-shop, followed by Bets. “Eunice is here too, but you don’t need to bother about her,” said Fatty. “Just tuck in well, both of you!”

So they did, much to Eunice’s annoyance. “Aren’t you having any?” asked Bets, in surprise, seeing Fatty’s empty plate.

“No. I’m being strong-minded about my slimming,” he said, and grinned at Eunice’s scowl. “Eunice and I have been to the Beetle Show. Goon was there - he tried to keep me out.”

“Fatty - you didn’t spot You-Know-Who, did you?” asked Bets, in a low voice. But Eunice’s ears were quick, and she heard.

“Who’s You-Know-Who?” she asked, with her mouth full of toast.

“I can’t make out what you say when you’ve got your mouth full,” said Fatty, reprovingly. Eunice gave a snort and emptied her mouth. “I know you’ve all got something on between you,” she began. “Some secret you’re not telling me. I daresay it’s something silly, but it isn’t good manners to keep talking secrets when I’m with you.”

“We don’t,” said Pip, taking a cake.

“All right then - who’s this You-Know-Who?” said Eunice.

“Sorry,” said Fatty. “Can’t tell you. Actually it’s a police secret that we just happened to get to know about.”

“Oooh, what a fib!” said Eunice, disbelievingly. “Police secret indeed! I don’t believe it.”

“Fine!” said Fatty, irritatingly. “Don’t believe it then. That suits us all right.”

Eunice lost her temper and went a bright red. “You’re mean! You’re ill-mannered! And I warn you that I shall jolly well ferret out your silly secret, whatever it is - and I’ll tell everyone about it.”

“Perhaps that’s why we don’t tell you,” said Fatty, politely. “In case you do tell everyone about it. Anyway - thanks for warning us.”

Eunice got up from the table and stormed out, much to the amazement of the other people in the shop. Fatty grinned at Pip and Bets. “She managed to eat a jolly good tea before she departed,” he said. “Have some more cakes? Do! I’m longing to have one. I didn’t dare to while Eunice was there, in case she thought I was weak-minded. But, after all, slimming doesn’t mean absolutely starving myself!”

He ordered another plateful, and examined it closely.

“Which do you want, Bets?” he asked.

Bets laughed. “I don’t mind - but I know what you want, Fatty!” she said, and put an eclair and a cream bun on his plate. He grinned at her.

“You always read my thoughts, young Bets,” he said, and she smiled, delighted. Good old Fatty. How could that awful Eunice be so rude to him?

Fatty told Pips and Bets about his afternoon at the Beetle Conference, and the question he had asked Goon in front of Mrs. Fangio, the old woman from the Fair. “I just wanted to see if she jumped or seemed frightened, when I asked Goon about the man with the scar,” he said.

“And did she?” said Pip.

“Yes. When she first heard me asking, she stood absolutely still,” said Fatty. “Then she turned round, looking really amazed - and then gave me such a wicked look! Whew! If looks could have killed, I’d be lying there dead in front of her.”

“Don’t say things like that, Fatty,” said Bets. “Why should she have looked at you like that?”

Someone came and sat down at the next table. “Don’t say any more,” said Fatty. “Let’s go to Larry’s and all have a talk about it. Waitress - can I have the bill?”

It was quite a large bill, and for the hundredth time Pip and Bets marvelled at the amount of money Fatty always seemed to have. “Just like a grown-up,” Bets thought as he paid the bill and tipped the waitress.

They all went up to Larry’s, and soon the five of them, and Buster whom they had collected on the way, sat down in Larry’s summer-house, Fatty told of his afternoon’s doings again.

“That old woman called Mrs. Fangio, Lucita’s mother, got a job as cleaner at the Town Hall this week,” he said. “And I suppose when there was a difficulty over the broken beetle cases, she suggested borrowing Lucita’s performing-flea cages - she would get a bit of money for that, of course. Perhaps that was what made Lucita so annoyed with her yesterday - she may have taken them without asking her.”

“Quite likely,” said Larry.

“Tell Larry and Daisy what happened when you asked Goon about the man with the scar,” said Bets.

Fatty retold the incident. “So, you see, it’s quite obvious that not only Lucita knows about the man with the scar, but her mother does too. You know I can’t help wondering if they are hiding him,” said Fatty.

“I’m pretty sure they are,” said Larry. “Or at least they know where he is hiding. I wonder what relation he is to them. His photo is so like Josef - and like Lucita too - that he really must be related to them. And yet you say that Lucita said there were only she and her twin brother in her family, and her old mother. I’d ask the Chief Inspector about it, if I were you, Fatty.”

“I think I will,” said Fatty. “And I think that, if I possibly can, I’ll slip out tonight and go down to Barker’s Field and see what I can pick up about the Fangios. I’ll put on my tramp clothes - what a shock for Eunice if she sees me again!”

They talked a little more, and then Fatty departed with Buster. He debated whether to ring up the Chief Inspector at home, or from a call-box. Eunice might be somewhere about at home. But there was someone already in the public call-box so he had to wait till he got home. Then, after making sure that Eunice was not in sight, he telephoned Chief Inspector Jenks.

“Sir - it’s Frederick Trotteville here,” he said. “I’ve not got much further with that case, so far - but I want to know if you can tell me something, sir. It’s about the man with a scar. I’ve spotted two people very like him to look at - twins - a brother and a sister, surname Fangio. But they say there aren’t any others of their family, only themselves and their old mother. Could this other fellow be a cousin or some sort of relation, do you think?”

“Shouldn’t think so,” came back the Chief’s clear voice. “He’s apparently got no family, as you probably saw in those notes. His surname is Harris - or so he says. It’s probably just a fluke that you saw any likeness.”

“Blow!” said Fatty, and put down the receiver. “That clue’s gone west then!”

Adventure for Goon - and Eunice

No sooner had he put down the receiver than he heard a little scrambling noise from somewhere in the hall. Someone had been listening! Fatty hunted round, but whoever it was must have run up the stairs.

“I bet that was Eunice!” he thought. “Bother her! I didn’t really think she meant to spy on me. I shall have to be jolly careful when I go out disguised as an old tramp again tonight!”

He gave Eunice a sharp look when he went into the dining-room for the evening meal at seven o’clock. She looked at him demurely - too demurely. He felt sure she had listened in to his telephone conversation. Still - what had she gained by it? Only that he was apparently looking for a man with a scar - who had a likeness to twins called Fangio. That wasn’t going to help her much!

He suddenly thought of an idea and grinned as he ate his soup. “What’s the joke, Frederick?” asked his mother. Fatty cast hurriedly about in his mind for some joke to tell her.