Mystery of the Pantomime Cat (9 page)

BOOK: Mystery of the Pantomime Cat
2.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

"I rather think he has." said Fatty. "We'll have to
do something about that, if so. Well—to continue ..."

No.
3.
Lucy
White,
who takes the part of Margot, Dick Whittington's sweetheart. Says
she went to call on Miss Adams, an old-age pensioner who is ill, address 11
Mark Street. Sat with her till nine o'clock, and helped her with her knitting.

"Miss Adams is a friend of our cook's," said Larry.
"She used to come and help with the sewing. Nice old thing she was."

No.
4.
Peter
Watting,
who takes the part of Dick's master," went on Fatty.
"Elderly, and rather obstructive. Would not answer questions readily. Said
he was out walking with Suspect No. 5 at the time.

Suspect No. 5. William Orr,
who takes the part of the captain of Dick's ship. Young
man, affable and helpful. Says he was out walking with Peter Watting at the
time.

"Then those two are alibis for each other," said Larry,
with interest. "What's to stop them from
both
going back to the
theatre and doing the robbery, and then giving each other an alibi?"

"That's a good point, Larry," said Fatty. "Very
good point. Pippin doesn't seem to have worked that out. Wait a bit—here's
another note about it. 'Suspects 4 and 5 (Peter Watting and William Orr)
further said they had gone for a walk by the river, and had called at a
tea-house called 'The Turret' for some sandwiches and coffee. They did not know
the exact time'."

"Bit fishy, I think," said Pip. "Wants looking
into."

Suspect No. 6. Alec Grant,
who takes the part of Dick's mother. Usually takes women's parts
and is very good at them, a fine mimic and good actor. Says he was giving a
show at Hetton Hall, Sheepridge, that evening, from six to ten—acting various
women's parts to an audience of about one hundred.

"Well! That rules
him
out!" said Larry. "He's
got a hundred alibis, not one."

"Yes. It certainly clears
him,"
said Fatty.
"Well, here's the last Suspect."

Suspect No. 1. John James,
who plays the part of the black king in the play. Says he went to
the

cinema and was there all the evening, seeing the film called
"You know How it is."

"Not much of an alibi either," said Pip. "He could
easily have popped in, and popped out again—and even popped back again after
doing the robbery. Poor alibi, I call that."

"Well now," said Fatty, "I imagine that Goon will
check all these, if he hasn't already—but he's such a mutt that I expect he'll
miss something important that
we
might spot. So I vote we all check up
on the various alibis ourselves."

There was a deep silence. Nobody felt capable of doing this. It was
bad enough to interview people—it was much worse to check an alibi!

“I can't," said Bets, at last. "I know I'm a Find-Outer
and I ought to do what you tell me, Fatty, but I really
can't
check an
ali—alibi. I mean—it sounds too much like a
real
detective."

"Well, we may be kids, but we're jolly good detectives all
the same," said Fatty. "Look at all the mysteries we've solved
already! This is a bit more
advanced,
perhaps."

"It's frightfully advanced," groaned Larry. "I feel
rather like Bets—out of my depth."

"Don't give up before you've begun," said Fatty.
"Now, I'll tell you what I propose to do."

"What?" asked every one, and Buster thumped his tail on
the ground as if he too had a great interest in the question.

"There are three things we must do," said Fatty.
"We must interview Boysie, and see what
we
think of him—and we'll
interview him all together, as we suggested before."

"Right." said Larry. "What next?"

"We'll see every other suspect too," said Fatty.

There was a general groan.

"Oh
no,
Fatty—six people! And all grown-up! We can't
possibly," said Daisy. "What excuse would we have for seeing them,
even?"

"A very good excuse indeed," said Fatty. "All we've
got to do is to find our autograph-books and go and ask for autographs—and we
can easily say a few words to them then, can't we?"

"That's a
brilliant
idea," said Pip. "Really
brilliant. Fatty. I must say you think of good ideas."

"Oh well," said Fatty, modestly, "I've got a few
brains, you know. As a matter of fact . . ."

"Don't
start
telling us about the wonderful things you did at school last term," begged
Pip. "Go on with our Plan."

"All right," said Fatty, a little huffily. "The
third thing we must do, is, as I said, check up on the alibis—and if we think
hard, it won't be so frightfully difficult. For instance, Daisy says she knows
Zoe Mark-ham's sister, who lives near her, and she also .says one of the
children is having a birthday soon. Well, Daisy, what's to stop you and Bets
from taking the child a present, getting into conversation with the mother, and
finding out if Zoe way there all that evening? Zoe's sister wouldn't be on her
guard with two children who came with a present for her child."

"Yes—all right. Fatty, I can do that," said Daisy.
"You'll come too, won't you, Bets?"

"Yes," said Bets. "But you'll ask the questions,
won't you, Daisy?"

"You've got to help, said Daisy. "I'm not doing it
all!"

"Now the next Suspect is Lucy White who went to sit with Miss
Adams, an old-age pensioner," went on Fatty. "Larry, you said she was
a friend of your

cook's, and used to come to help with the sewing. Can't you and
Daisy concoct sonic sort of sewing job you want done, and take it round to
her—and put a few questions about Lucy White?"

"Yes, we could," said Daisy. "I'll pretend I want
to give Mother a surprise for Easter, and I'll take round a cushion-cover I
want embroidering, or something. I've been there before, and Mary Adams knows
me "

"Splendid," said Fatty. "That's two alibis we can
check very easily indeed Now the next one—well, the next two, actually, because
they are each other's alibis—Peter Watting and William Or. Well, they
apparently went to a place called The Turret and had coffee and sandwiches
there. Pip, you and I will call there and also have coffee and sandwiches
tomorrow morning."

"But it's Sunday and I have to go to church," objected
Pip

"Oh yes I forgot it was Sunday," said Fatty "Well,
we'll do that on Monday or Tuesday morning. Now, Suspect No. 6 is Alec Grant,
who was apparently giving a concert at Hetton Hall to about a hundred people.
Seems hardly necessary to check that."

"Well, don't let's," said Larry.

"The thing is—a really good detective always checks
everything," said Fatty. "Even if he thinks it really isn't
necessary. So I suppose we'd better check that too. Bets, you can come with me
and check it. We'll find some one who attended the show, and ask them about it
and see if Alec Grant really was there."

"Right," said Bets, who never minded what she did with
Fatty. She always felt so safe with him, as safe as if she was with a grown-up.

"That only leaves one more," said Fatty, looking at his
list. "And that's John James who says he went to the cinema all the
evening.

"Yes—and we thought it was a pretty poor alibi," said
Pip. "Who's going to check that one up''"

"Oh—Larry and I could tackle that, I think, or you and
Larry," said Fatty.

"But how?" asked La try.

"Have to think of something," said Fatty. "Well,
there you are, Find-Outers—plenty for us to find out! We've got to see Boysie,
got to get autographs from all the cast, and have a look at them—and got to
check up all the alibis Pretty stiff work."

"And,
Fatty,
we've got to meet that train tomorrow and lead old Goon a dance," Bets
reminded him. "Don't let's forget that!"

"Oh no—we really must do that," grinned Fatty.
"I'll use my new cheek-pads for that."

"Whatever are those?" said Bets in wonder, and screamed
with laughter when Fatty told her. "Oh yes, do wear those. I hope I don't
giggle when I see you "

"You'd better not, young Bets," said Fatty, getting hold
of her nose and pulling it gently. "Now what time's that train we
underlined?"

"Half-past three tomorrow afternoon," said Pip.
"We'll all be there, Fatty. What will
you
do—go to the next
station, catch the train there, and arrive here at 3.30?"

"I will," said Fatty. "Look out for me. So long,
every one. I've just remembered that my mother told me to be home an hour ago,
to meet my great-aunt.
What
a memory I've got!"

Treat for Mr. Goon.

Fatty worked out the time-table for putting the Plan into action,
that evening. They couldn't do much the next day, Sunday, that was certain.
Daisy had better buy a present for Zoe's sister's child on Monday and take it
in with Bets. The next day perhaps she and Larry could go and see Miss Adams
and find out about Lucy White.

He and Larry would go to The Turret on Monday and have coffee and
sandwiches and see if they could find out anything about Peter Watting and
William Orr. They could leave Alec Grant till last, because it really did seem
as if his alibi was unshakable, as it consisted of about a hundred people. He
would not dare to give an alibi like that if it were not true.

"I can't think how to find out about the last fellow's
alibi—what's his name—John James," said Fatty to himself. "Can't very
well go and talk to a cinema and ask it questions! Still, I'll think of
something."

He paused and looked at himself in the mirror. He was thinking out
his disguise for the next day—something perfectly reasonable, but peculiar, and
with red hair so that it would attract Goon's attention. He would wear dark
glasses and pretend to be shortsighted. That would make the children want to
laugh.

"We'll go and see Boysie—what a name—on Monday morning,"
thought Fatty, drawing a line round both his nostrils to see what effect it
gave.

"Gracious! Don't I look bad-tempered! Grrrrr! Gah!"

He removed the lines and experimented with different eyebrows,
thinking of his Plan all the time.

"We'll all go and ask for autographs after the afternoon
performance at the Little Theatre on Monday." thought Fatty. "And
dear me—why shouldn't we
go
to the performance and see every one in
action. It mightn't tell us anything—but on the other hand, it might I That's a
jolly good idea. Well—Monday's going to be pretty busy, I can see, what with
interviewing and asking for autographs and checking up alibis. Now, what about
that train tomorrow? Shall I speak to Goon when I see him or not? I'll ask him
the way somewhere!"

He began to practise different voices. First, a deep-down rumble,
modelled on a preacher who had come to his school to preach one Sunday, and who
had been the admiration of every one because of his extremely bass voice.

He tried a high falsetto voice—no, not so good. He tried a foreign
voice—ah, that was splendid.

"Please, Sair, to teel me me way to Hoffle-Foffle Road!"
began Fatty. "What you say, Sair? I not unnerstand. I say, I weesh to know
ze way to Hoffle-Foffle Road.
hoffle-foffle!
"

There came a knock at his door. "Frederick. Have you got Pip
and the others in there with you? You know I don't like them here so late at
night."

Fatty opened his door in surprise. "Oh no, Mother—of course
they're not here. There's only me!"

His mother looked at him and made an exasperated noise.
"Frederick! What have you done to your eyebrows, they are all crooked I And
what's that round your eye?"

"Oh—only a wrinkle I drew there for an experiment," said
Fatty, rubbing it away hastily. "And you

needn't worry about my eyebrows. Mother. They're not really
crooked. Look."

He took off the eyebrows he was wearing, and showed his mother his
own underneath. They were not at all crooked, of course!

"Well, what will you think of next, Frederick?" said his
mother, half-crossly. "I came to say that your father wants you to listen
to the next bit on the wireless with him—it's about a part of China he knows
very well. Are you
sure
you haven't got any one else with you here? I
did hear quite a lot of voices when I was coming up the stairs."

"Mother, look under the bed, behind the curtains and in the
cupboard," said Fatty, generously. But she wouldn't, of course, and
proceeded downstairs—to stop in a hurry when she heard a falsetto voice say,
"Has she gone? Can I come out?"

She turned at once, annoyed to think there was some one in Fatty's
room after all—but when she saw Fatty's grinning face, she laughed too.

"Oh—one of your Voices, I suppose." she said. "I
might have guessed. I cannot think, Frederick, how it is that you always have
such good reports from school. I cannot believe you behave well there."

Other books

Darwin's Blade by Dan Simmons
Rites of Passage by Reed, Annie
My Married Boyfriend by Cydney Rax
Perfect Happiness by Penelope Lively
Laura Jo Phillips by The Gryphons' Dream: Soul Linked#5
Umbrella Summer by Graff, Lisa
Perfect Pairing by Rachel Spangler
The Barbarian Prince by The Barbarian prince
A ruling passion : a novel by Michael, Judith