Mystery of the Pantomime Cat (6 page)

nicely with old Pippin. We never could work with Goon.

Every one felt very glum. To think they had gone and spoilt a
perfectly super
real
mystery by making up a stupid pretend one!

"I’ll come with you to explain." said Larry.

"No," said Fatty. "I take the responsibility for
this. I'd like to keep the rest of you out of it—it Pippin takes it into his
head to complain of us, my parents won't take a lot of notice—but yours will,
Larry—and as for Pip's parents, they'll go right off the deep end."

"They always do," said Pip. His parents were very strict
with him and Bets, and had been very much annoyed three or four times already
when Mr. Goon had complained to them about the children. "I don't want our
parents to know a thing. Mother's already said she's glad Goon is away because
now perhaps we won't get into any mischief these holidays, and make Goon come
round and grumble about us."

"I'll go and see Pippin now," said Fatty, getting up.
"Nothing like getting a nasty thing done at once. I do hope Pippin won't
mind too much. Actually I think he's rather nice. He'll be thrilled at getting
a case like this when Goon is away."

He went out, with Buster close at his heels. He whistled loudly to
show that he didn't care about anything in the world. But actually Fatty did
care quite a lot this morning. He felt guilty about all those false clues. He
could have kicked himself for spoiling his chance of working in with P.C.
Pippin. Pippin wasn't like Goon. He looked sensible, and Fatty felt sure he
would have welcomed his, Fatty's help.

He came to Goon's house, in which Pippin was now living whilst
Goon was away. To his surprise the door was wide open. Fatty walked in to find
Pippin.

There was a loud voice talking in the front room. Fatty stopped as
if he had been shot. It was Goon's voice.
Goon!
Had he come back then?
Was he going to take over the mystery? Blow!

Fatty stood there, wondering what to do. He wasn't going to
confess to Pippin in front of Goon! That would be very, very foolish. Goon
might even take it into his head to go and tell Inspector Jenks, the children's
very great friend—and somehow Fatty felt that the Inspector would not approve
of the little trick they had played on the unsuspecting Pippin.

Goon was evidently very angry. His voice was raised, and he was
going for poor Pippin unmercifully. Fatty couldn't help hearing, as he stood in
the passage, undecided whether to go in or out.

"Why didn't you send for me when you first saw those rogues
under that bush in the garden? Why didn't you tell me about the torn-up note?
Didn't I tell you to let me know if anything happened? Turnip-head! Dolt! Soon
as I go away they put in a dud like you, who hasn't even got the sense to send
for his superior when something happens!"

Fatty decided to go—but Buster decided differently. Aha! That was
the voice of his old enemy, wasn't it? With a joyful bark Buster pushed open
the door of the sitting-room with his black nose, and bounded in!

Goon-Pippin—and Fatty.

There was a loud exclamation from Goon. "That dog! Where did
it come from? Clear-orf, you! Ah, you'd nip me in the ankles, would you!"
Fatty rushed into the room at once, afraid that Goon

would hurt Buster. Pippin was standing by the window, looking very
crestfallen indeed. Goon was by the fireplace, kicking out at Buster, who was
dancing happily round his feet.

Goon looked up and saw Fatty. "Oh, you're here too, are
you?" he said. "Setting your dog on me again! What with having to
deal with that turnip-head over there, and this dratted dog, and you, it's
enough to make a man retire from the police force!"

To Fatty's horror he caught up the poker and hit Buster with it on
the back. Buster gave a howl of pain. Fatty ran to Goon and twisted the poker
out of
his
hand. The boy was white with fury.

"See?" said Goon, turning to Pippin, who was also
looking rather white. "See that? You're a witness, you are—that boy sets
his dog on me, and when I protect myself, as I've a right to do, the boy comes
and assaults me. You're a witness, Pippin. Write it all down. Go on. I've been
after this pest of a boy and his dog for a long time—and now I've got him. You
saw it all. didn't you. Pippin?"

Fatty now had Buster in his arms. He could not trust himself to
speak. He knew Goon to be a stupid, ignorant man with a turn for cruelty, but Goon
had never shown his real nature quite so openly before.

Pippin said nothing at all. He stood by the window, looking scared
and very much taken-aback. He had been shouted at by Goon for half an hour,
blamed for all kinds of things, called all kinds of names—and now he was
supposed to take out his note-book and put down a lot of untruths about that
nice dog and his master.

"Pippin! Will you please write down what I tell you?"
stormed Goon. "I'll have that dog destroyed. I'll have this boy up before
the court. I'll..."

Buster growled so  fiercely  that Goon stopped.

"Look here," said Fatty, "if you're going to do all
that, I think I'll put Buster down and let him have a real good go at you,
Goon. He may as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb. He hasn't bitten you,
as you very well know—but if you're going to say he has, well then, he jolly
well
can."

And Fatty made as if he was going to put the barking, struggling
Buster down on the floor!

Goon calmed down at once, and tried to get back control of himself.
He turned in a dignified way to Pippin. "I'll tell you what to put down.
Come on now, stir yourself—standing there like a ninny!"

"I'm not going to put down anything but the truth," said
Pippin, most surprisingly. "You hit that dog a nasty whack with the
poker—might have injured him for life. I don't hold with behaviour of that
sort, no, not even from a police officer. I like dogs—they never go for
me.
I
wouldn't have that dog destroyed for anything. And all the boy did was to take
the poker from you to stop you hitting his dog again! A good thing he did too.
You might have killed the dog with your next whack—and then where would you be?
In a very awkward position, Mr. Goon, that's where!”

There was a dead silence after this unexpected and remarkable speech.
Even Buster was quiet. Every one was most surprised to hear this speech from
the quiet Pippin, and perhaps Pippin himself was most surprised of all. Goon
couldn't believe his ears. He stared at Pippin with his mouth wide open, and
his eyes bulged more than ever. Fatty was thrilled. Good old Pippin!

Goon found his tongue at last. His face was now a familiar purple.
He advanced to Pippin and shook a fat and rather dirty finger under his nose.

"You'll hear more of this, see? I'm back again and I'm in charge
of Peterswood now.
I’ll
take charge of

this new case—and you'll have nothing to do with it whatever.
Nothing. If you thought you'd get a good mark for it from the Inspector you can
think again. I'll make a bad report out on you and your behaviour—thinking
you'd manage it by yourself and get all the praise—not letting me know
anything. Gah!"

Pippin said nothing, but looked thoroughly miserable. Fatty was
very sorry for him. Goon was enjoying ticking off Pippin in front of Fatty. It
gave him a sense of power, and he loved that.

"You hand me over all them clues," said Goon.
"Every one of them. Aha! Master Frederick Trotteville would very much like
to know what they are—wouldn't you? But you won't know! You'll never
know!"

Pippin handed over to Mr. Goon all the false clues that Fatty had
put on the verandah! They were in envelopes or paper so Fatty could not see
them—but he knew very well what they were! In fact he could have given Goon
quite a lot of information about them. He grinned to himself. Right! Let Goon
have them and work on them. Much good would they do him! Served him right for
being so beastly to Pippin.

"See what happens to people who work against me, instead of
with me?" said Goon to Fatty, spitefully. "I shan't let him have
anything to do with this new case—and you kids won't neither! I'll manage it
myself. Pippin, you can do my routine work the next two weeks, and keep your
nose out of anything else. I don't want your help—not that a turnip-head like
you could help a fellow like me. Don't you come mewling to me with any of your
silly ideas—I just don't want to hear them."

He put away all the clues in a box and locked it. "Now I'm
going along to interview the manager of the Little Theatre," he said.
"Ho yes, I know
you've

interviewed him already Mister Clever—but I don't care tuppence
for what you've got out of him—it won't be anything worth while. Well, you get
down to that writing I ticked you off about—and just remember this—I shan't
forget your insubordination this morning over that there pestiferous dog. Yes,
real, right-down insubordination—refusal to perform your rightful duties when
commanded. Gah!"

Mr. Goon made a dignified and haughty departure, walking
ponderously down the path to his front gate, and shutting it sharply. Fatty,
Buster, and Pippin were left together in the little sitting-room. Fatty put
Buster down. He at once ran to Pippin and pawed eagerly at his legs, whining.

Pippin stooped down and patted him. He looked so miserable that
Fatty wanted to comfort him.

"He's thanking you for sticking up for him," he said.
"Thanks from me, too, Mr. Pippin. Awfully decent of you."

"He's a nice dog," said Pippin. "I like dogs. I've
got one of my own, back home. Goon wouldn't let me bring him here.'

"I bet you think just about the same of Goon as I do—as we
all do," said Fatty. "He's a beast. Always has been. He'd no right to
speak to you in that way, you know."

"I thought I was on to such a good case," said Pippin,
sitting down and taking out his fountain pen to write. "I was going to
send for Goon this morning, of course—but he saw a notice in the paper and came
tearing back, accusing me of not having told him anything. Now I've had to give
him all my clues—and he'll use them instead of me."

Fatty considered things carefully. Should he confess to Pippin now
that they were not real clues? No—Goon had them—let him mess about with them!
Fatty thought

that possibly Pippin might feel he ought to tell Goon they were
false clues, if he. Fatty, confessed to him that they were—and that would spoil
everything. Goon would go and complain to their parents, they would be
forbidden to try and solve this mystery, and Pippin would be called over the
coals by Goon for being so stupid as to be taken in by false clues.

It would be very nice indeed if Goon would busy himself with those
clues, and leave the way clear for Fatty and the other Find-Outers to go to
work! Pippin might help them. That would be better still.

"Mr. Pippin, don't take any notice of what Mr. Goon says to
you," said Fatty, earnestly. "I am sure that Inspector Jenks, who is
a great friend of ours, wouldn't allow him to speak to you like that, if he
knew."

"The Inspector told me about you and the others," said
Pippin. "He's got a very high opinion of you, I must say. Said you'd been no
end of a help in solving all kinds of mysterious cases."

Fatty saw his chance and took it. "Yes—that's true—and
Pippin, I shall be on to this case too—and probably solve it! I should be very
proud if you would help us—it would be nice to present the Inspector with
another mystery correctly solved. He'd be thrilled."

Pippin looked up at the earnest Fatty. Fatty was only a boy in his
teens, but there was something about him that made people respect him and trust
him. Brains? Yes. Character? Plenty! Cheek? Too much. Pluck? Any amount. Pippin
saw all this as he looked at Fatty and sized him up. Well—if Inspector Jenks
like this boy and admired him, then he. Pippin, was quite prepared to do the
same—very willing to, in face, seeing that it looked as if Fatty was not going
to work with Mr. Goon! Pippin couldn't help thinking it would be very nice
indeed to help this boy to solve the mystery—what

a sell for Mr. Goon that would be!

"Well," he said, and paused. "Well—I'd like to help
you—hut wouldn't I have to tell Mr. Goon anything we discovered?"

"But, Mr. Pippin, didn't you hear him tell you that he didn't
want your help?" said Fatty. "Didn't you hear him say you weren't to
go to him with any of your silly mewling ideas—whatever
they
are! You'd
be disobeying his orders if you told him anything."

This seemed a very sensible way out to Pippin. Yes

- he certainly would be disobeying orders if he went and told Mr.
Goon anything now. On the other hand, surely it was his duty to work on the
case if he could. Wasn't he the one to discover the robbery?

"I'll help you," he told Fatty, and the boy grinned with
pleasure. "I guess if the Inspector has let you meddle in other cases,
he'd say you could meddle in this one too. Anyway—I'd like to pay Goon back for
some of the beastly things he said to me."

"Hear, hear—very human and natural of you," said Fatty,
agreeing heartily. "Well now, Pippin, I'll lay my cards on the table—and
you can lay yours there as well. I'll tell you all I know, and you can tell me
all
you
know."