The Mystery of the Stolen Books

©2006 Keith Robinson

The Five Find-Outers and Dog are home for the holidays again. When Peterswood library is broken into, the gang are soon on the trail... much to Mr Goon's annoyance. Fatty and his friends find only one clue: a footprint on the windowsill where the burglar smashed a window and climbed in. Why anyone should risk breaking into a library to steal a few books is a mystery—so it's even more puzzling when the stolen books are found dumped in an old school field. Meanwhile, Mr Goon is investigating another break-in, this one at an office building in town. Valuable coins have been stolen out of a safe. Two burglaries in one night! Can they be connected somehow?

This is a completed novel which I sent to Egmont (the current publishers of the Find-Outer series) for consideration. They returned my synopsis with a hand-written note in the bottom corner saying simply, "I am sorry, I must pass." So I thought I'd make the story available here. I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 11: Superintendent Jenks pays a visit

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Standing in Mr Goon's hall with the telephone in his hand, Jenks got right down to business. He'd decided to let Frederick in on Mr Johnson's case because this was one time he couldn't afford to rely on Mr Goon to plod his way through on his own.

He ran through the details of the case, and told the boy about his meeting with Goon. "I'm at Goon's now," he said, "standing in his hallway. I sent Goon off to apologise to Mr Johnson, and to investigate the crime scene a little more thoroughly. He may find something useful, but frankly I doubt it. So, Frederick, would you be interested in taking a hand in this little matter?"

"Of course!" came the enthusiastic reply. "You leave it to us, sir."

"But be careful," Jenks warned. "I assured this Johnson fellow I would be taking a personal interest in this case, so it wouldn't look good for me to send a bunch of children along to his office—if you see what I mean. He doesn't know you like I do. He'll wonder what on earth we're playing at! No, I need you to act entirely independently, as you normally do."

"I understand, sir," Frederick said. "We'll think of some innocent reason to go and talk to Mr Johnson. He evaluates coins, you say?"

Jenks smiled, immediately guessing Frederick's plan. "I assume you can dig up a few strange-looking coins from somewhere, perhaps from holidays abroad...and go along to have them evaluated? That would be a first-class reason to visit, Frederick, and would indeed seem perfectly innocent. Now, tell me about this library case you're working on."

"Well, sir," said Frederick, "it was broken into last night, just as Mr Johnson's office was. Two in one night! Anyway, we have an interesting lead. It seems one of the library members, a Peter Westlake, returned some books yesterday—but his father had written something on one of them, something we feel was important enough to break in last night to reclaim. We—"

"Wait." Superintendent Jenks frowned. "Did you say Westlake? Are you sure? Look, perhaps I should come and see you. Are you at home? I'm in Peterswood already, so I'll be there in five minutes. I suddenly feel there's a connection between these two burglaries, and I want to get everything straight. I'll see you soon."

Jenks put the phone down and hurried out to the car. So Carl Westlake was somehow involved in the library break-in. Well, stealing books from a library was hardly his scene, but stealing coins most certainly was. If Frederick—or Goon, for that matter—could puzzle out these two cases and come up with the goods, then Carl Westlake could end up locked behind bars and the little village of Peterswood would be a much safer place.

In moments the driver pulled up outside the Trottevilles' house, and Jenks climbed out. He walked through the gate towards the house, but suddenly heard a small dog barking and glanced towards the shed that stood in the garden near some shrubs. Ah, Frederick's workroom! It looked innocent enough, but the superintendent knew it was filled with interesting articles, including disguises and books.

He smiled and headed towards it as the little door opened and a black Scottish Terrier tore out and hurtled towards him. Immediately after the small dog came little Bets, squealing in delight, and Jenks' day suddenly grew brighter. She rushed up and Jenks swung her up in the air and around. "Goodness, you're getting far too big for me to keep doing that," he groaned. "How are you, young Bets? And hello, Buster—what a round tummy you have these days! Is Frederick not walking you enough?"

"It's SO good to see you again, Superintendent!" said Bets, beaming all over her face.

The others were hurrying across the lawn now, Daisy first, then Larry, Pip, and finally Frederick. He greeted them all happily, and allowed them to lead him back to the shed where they plastered him with biscuits and lemonade.

After a few minutes of joyful banter, Jenks got down to business. "Now, Frederick—tell me all about this library mystery you've got going on. Don't leave anything out."

Bets giggled. "It's funny hearing you call him Frederick. We all call him Fatty. It suits him better."

The Superintendent smiled. "Well, Fatty it is then. Now, please—start talking."

Fatty cleared his throat and solemnly told him everything that had happened that morning, from the moment Mrs Hilton had asked them to help Mrs Sharple with her inventory, all the way up to the part where they had all collected the remaining crime books from other library members. He seemed to skim over some of the detail when he got to the part about finding the pile of discarded books in the old school field, and Jenks couldn't help noticing the way the others simultaneously cast their eyes downwards.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" he asked with narrowed eyes. "You said you went out the back of the library and up the alley, and then crawled through the fence into the old school field, where you found the books lying in a pile. But you told Goon you'd spotted them while you walking along the pavement at the front of the school? Why?"

Fatty sighed. "You're far too sharp for us, sir. I confess we might have, er, misled Mr Goon a little. We told him we spotted the books from the street, otherwise we might have got into trouble for trespassing. You know how he is, sir. Any excuse he can find to complain about us."

Jenks nodded. "Yes. All right. Anything else you're not telling me?"

There was a silence, and everyone looked very uncomfortable.

Jenks sighed. "Out with it."

Fatty licked his lips. "Er, well, we might have accidentally left a couple of clues that had nothing to do with the case, sir. Mr Goon was so rude to us that we felt he deserved it. I'm sorry, sir."

Jenks groaned and closed his eyes. "Look, all of you. Goon is in serious trouble at the moment. His temper has once again flawed his judgement and he's gone and blamed Mr Johnson for staging the break-in. I've told him he'd better do well in this case, or else. I thought he was doing reasonably well with this library case, but now you're telling me all the clues he had were your doing?"

"Not all of them, sir—just a couple," said Larry.

"Well, you'd better speak to him and sort this out," Jenks said. "To tell you the truth, I'm getting a little tired of this animosity between you and Goon, and while he may not be the most level-headed fellow in the world, he is after all trying his best—and it doesn't help when you play tricks on him like this." He looked around at the crestfallen faces. "This is very serious, you know, this habit of leaving false clues. It may seem funny, but it really isn't. It ends here, all right?"

"Right, sir," said Fatty miserably. "I'll speak to him myself. It's my fault. I'll straighten things out."

"Good. See that you do, Frederick."

Fatty cleared his throat. "Er, is there anything else you can tell us about the library case, sir? For instance, do we know what time the library was broken into? And what was that other clue Mr Goon found that we don't know about?"

Jenks pulled out a sheaf of papers and rifled through with a frown. "Let me see. Yes, according to Goon's report, the neighbours say they heard glass breaking around one in the morning. And here's Goon's list of clues. You can see for yourself. Any look familiar to you?"

"Yes, sir," Fatty mumbled. "All of them except for the strand of black wool. I don't know how we missed that."

Jenks folded the papers and put them carefully back in his pocket. "All right, now, let's talk about Carl Westlake, Peter's father." He collected his thoughts and laced his fingers together. "He's a dangerous fellow. You're not to go near him, do you understand? Feel free to pop down to Johnson's office and do a bit of harmless investigating; your eyes are sharp and you're very good at putting two and two together and coming up with five. But stay away from danger, please. Carl Westlake has been in prison a number of times, and he was released a year ago and is supposedly going straight. But I don't believe a word of it. He's making good money somehow, and that evening shift security job at the transport company along North Lane doesn't pay much."

Fatty looked surprised. "He has an evening shift? That would explain why he was at home this morning, cleaning his motor bike."

"Yes," Jenks said, "we know he works from six in the evening until around half past midnight, so he might have gone from work straight to the library to break in. I once had men watching him day after day, but there's only so much time we can spend keeping tabs on a man in the hope that we'll catch him in the act of something."

Pip whistled. "So he's really in your bad books, then."

"Yes," said Superintendent Jenks, nodding. "He's a bad sort, all right. And we're pretty sure he's just a hired hand; he doesn't plan the jobs, just carries them out. He's not the brains behind the operation, just the monkey they send in to do the dirty work."

Jenks looked at his watch. "Goodness me, it's nearly four o'clock. I really am going to have to get going. Well, Find-Outers—I trust you will keep out of harm's way and snoop only where it is safe to do so?"

"Ooh, we'll be careful," said Bets with a shiver. "Fatty, please stay away from Mr Westlake."

Fatty laughed and squeezed Bets' shoulder. "I'll try. Well, it's been good to see you again, sir. Do you really have to go? I could show you the disguise I'm going to wear when I go and see Mr Johnson in the morning." He hunched over and screwed up his face, and when he spoke his voice was quavering and weak, like an old man's. "'Ere you go, young man—found these 'ere coins in an old sock stuffed down the back of a drawer. Reckon they're werf summat, do yer?"

Everyone roared with laughter, and Jenks shook his head in admiration. "I'd give anything to see you in disguise, Frederick—but alas, I must go. Take care, Find-Outers, and make sure you straighten things out properly with Goon."

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