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 18: A startling revelation

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Fatty was about to say something when, from above, there came a scuffling sound and heavy footsteps. A muffled voice spoke through the ceiling. "I'm right above you, sir."

"Anything out of place up there?" called Fatty.

Everyone stared upwards in silence. Then the policeman's voice came back. "This floorboard is loose. Hang on—I've got it." As he said that, his voice suddenly became a little clearer. "Yes, it looks like this board had been prised up, then put back. And all the insulation underneath has been pulled out and thrown aside. And—wait a second."

Breathless, Fatty watched with glee as what looked like a tiny black dot appeared in the middle of the ceiling. A finger poked through, and everyone in the room gasped.

"Look at that—a spy hole!" said one of the other constables. "He's been spying on Mr Johnson!"

"Oh, Fatty!" cried Daisy. "So Mr Masters has been spying on Mr Johnson and watching while he opens and closes the safe every night! That's how he found out the combination!"

Fatty nodded. "I should think he spent one late evening up there, prising up that board, removing the insulation beneath, and drilling a small hole through the ceiling. That was what caused the sprinkling of grey dust on the rug. It was hardly noticed until Mr Johnson swept up the glass. And Mr Masters must have worried about that dust being spotted, so he plugged up the hole with something the same colour as the ceiling, just in case Mr Johnson happened to glance upwards anytime."

Ted Masters was busy shaking his head nervously, muttering that the whole thing was preposterous.

Fatty went on, enjoying himself. Everyone was gazing from him to Mr Masters and back again, open-mouthed. "Once he got everything set up," he said happily, "it was a simple matter of locking his office at half past four, saying good night to Mr Johnson, and pretending to leave. Then he'd climb up into the attic through the hatch at the top of the stairs, probably pulling the ladder up after him and closing the hatch so no one would know anyone was up there. Then he'd walk very softly through the attic, lie down above the ceiling here, and remove the loose board and the little plug. And he'd watch for the next half an hour, waiting for Mr Johnson to tidy up his desk and put things away."

"And waiting for Mr Johnson to put valuable coins in the safe!" said Larry. He whistled. "And it wasn't long before Mr Fisher here came along one day with a very valuable set—and sure enough, Mr Johnson put them in his safe and went home—watched all the time by Mr Masters in the attic."

Superintendent Jenks nodded. "And then Mr Masters got on the phone to Carl Westlake, gave him the combination to the safe, and set things in motion."

"Well, sort of, sir," said Fatty. "The thing is, Mr Masters had already phoned Carl earlier that afternoon—so that bit doesn't quite add up."

"I think I can answer that," said Mr Fisher through gritted teeth. He was trembling with rage, his face bright red. "Ted Masters is my accountant, and he knew all about my coin collection. It was he who suggested I get them evaluated. Oh, he didn't recommend anyone in particular—he's far too savvy to arouse any suspicion like that—but he must have known I'd check around and go to see the most reputable appraiser in the area. That's why I came to Mr Johnson here."

"And I mentioned your name to him," groaned Mr Johnson, looking with some embarrassment at Mr Fisher. "Ted and I were chatting early that afternoon, and I mentioned you were coming in at two o'clock. Ted must have guessed right away you were bringing your valuable coins, and made that phone call to this Carl fellow."

"Which means Mr Masters had already obtained the combination by that afternoon," Fatty said, nodding. "It probably took three or four days of watching to be absolutely sure he had it right. Peering down through a hole in a ceiling isn't the easiest way to watch someone spin a dial and open a safe."

Mr Masters was still shaking his head, but now he gave a short laugh. "All right, clever clogs—since you have everything figured out, why don't you explain to everyone here exactly how I'm expected to read the numbers on the dial while peering through a tiny hole in the ceiling!"

Fatty turned to Mr Johnson. "Sir—may I ask you exactly where the safe is located?"

Bets suddenly ran forward. "I know!" she said excitedly, and went straight to one of the hanging picture frames. It opened like a cupboard door. Behind it was the safe.

Everyone looked surprised at how Bets had somehow known which picture the safe was hidden behind, and Superintendent Jenks gave her a wink and a smile.

Fatty grinned at her, and went to the safe. Then he called up to the attic. "Are you still up there?"

"Yes—watching the show," came the muffled reply, followed by a faint chortle.

"Can you see the dial all right?" asked Fatty, spinning the dial as if he were opening the safe. "You can see over my shoulder?"

"Oh, yes," called the policeman in the attic. "The hole is cut at an angle, and it's pointing right at the safe. I can see everything fine—only I can't read the numbers on the dial. There's no way I could figure out the combination from up here."

Mr Master laughed. "See? A nice idea, lad, but complete rubbish! I've never heard so much nonsense in my life. You'd have to have eyes like a hawk to read the dial from that distance."

"Or own a nice miniature brass telescope," said Fatty softly.

There was a long silence.

Mr Goon finally sighed. "He's right, sir," he said to Superintendent Jenks. "Mr Masters has a small ornamental telescope in his office next door. Saw it meself, sir."

"Is that right?" said the superintendent, pleased. He called up to the attic. "All right, you can come on down now." Then he turned to the other two waiting policeman. "You may escort Mr Masters off to the police station—but first, perhaps he'd be good enough to tell us what he's done with the coins?"

Ted Masters was scowling, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "You'll never know," he muttered. "Do what you like with me. Send me to prison. I'll be out in a few years, and when I am, I'll be rich."

He laughed, and the two policemen escorted him from the room and down the stairs.

A sigh went through the room. Mr Goon stood quietly, appearing to be lost in thought, and Superintendent Jenks patted him on the shoulder. "Well, Goon? Can you honestly say you would have worked all that out on your own?"

"No, sir," the policeman muttered, deflated.

"And this is why we should work with Frederick and his fellow Find-Outers, and not against them. Goon, trust me on this—you can't afford to work against them."

Superintendent Jenks laughed suddenly, and turned his twinkling eyes to Fatty. "Excellent work, Frederick—but I must say I'm surprised you can't hand over the coins too. You normally round everything off nicely."

"I'd like permission to turn that man's office upside down," Mr Fisher suddenly barked. "If he's hiding them in there, I'll—"

"They could be in his safe," said Larry. "That would be ironic, wouldn't it? And bold, too."

"As bold as brass," Fatty murmured. "That's something the caretaker said about the thief who broke in through the window. Turns out it was Ted Masters who was bold as brass—as bold as his brass telescope!"

He turned to Bets and Daisy. "It was what you two said in the lobby that really set me on the right track. You were saying how the thief must have been able to see through walls or peer through the window...and of course he did, sort of. He peered through a hole in the ceiling!"

Mr Fisher cleared his throat. "I'd really like to find my coins now, if you don't mind," he said firmly to the superintendent. "This has all been interesting, and I'm astonished that these kids managed to do what the police couldn't—but all I'm really interested in is getting my coins back."

"We'll get straight on it," said Superintendent Jenks smoothly. "Goon, perhaps you can start a search next door—and Thompson can help you when he gets down from the attic."

"Yes, sir," said Mr Goon, not looking altogether pleased. "I'll get right on it, sir."

He marched out, and Mr Fisher went with him. Mr Goon's voice could be heard from the hallway as he explained to Mr Fisher that this was a police matter and civilians weren't allowed to help in police searches—but Mr Fisher's response was short and simple: "Tommy-rot!"

Superintendent Jenks turned to Fatty and his friends, and glanced from one to the other. He then smiled at Mr Johnson. "Well, Mr Johnson, my apologies once again for Goon's initial bad behaviour, and for, er, getting the wrong man, so to speak."

The coin appraiser collapsed behind his desk and rubbed his eyes. "I don't care about that now. I just feel extremely cheated and angry. I've know Ted Masters for years, and...and..."

"Some people are unfortunately capable of turning on their own mother for a bit of quick cash," said the superintendent grimly. "Don't feel too bad, Mr Johnson. If Mr Masters made a fool of you, he made a fool of us all."

Mr Johnson looked up. "But not these children," he said softly. He looked at Bets and tilted his head, frowning. "I know you, don't I? You came here with your grandfather."

Bets giggled suddenly and clapped a hand over her mouth, going red.

Fatty smiled. "Yes, her grandfather's a wonderful fellow," he said, grinning around at the others. "You all know him. Wouldn't you agree he's a wonderful fellow?"

"Shut up, Fatty," said Larry, Pip and Daisy together.

Superintendent Jenks grinned. "I suspect I know your grandfather too, Bets. Is he the chap with the rather large head?"

Everyone burst into laughter, except Fatty, who rolled his eyes.

"He can be a bit of a big-head!" cried Bets in delight.

Mr Johnson looked appalled. "Really, young lady—that's no way to talk about your grandfather..."

Everyone roared, and this time Fatty joined in.

There came a shout from next door, and the superintendent headed out into the hall, followed by five children and Mr Johnson.

Ted Masters' office door stood wide open, and inside Mr Goon was holding a large white vase with a very thin neck. As everyone crowded into the room, Mr Goon shook the vase gently. It sounded like the coins were rattling around inside.

Mr Goon held the vase upside down, and coins rained down on Mr Masters' desk. Everyone gasped at the gold and silver rainbow of colour. "There must be a hundred of them!" Daisy said in amazement. "They're so pretty!"

Mr Fisher nodded, his eyes gleaming and a broad smile across his face. "Fifty-two gold coins, and thirty-five silver," he said. "Recovered from an old pirate's personal belongings, buried underneath a house off the coast of Cornwall. Worth an absolute fortune—right, Mr Johnson?"

Mr Johnson nodded. "I haven't finished my study yet, but yes, this little lot are more valuable than you can imagine." He turned to Mr Goon. "I take it you didn't find the nice velvet box Mr Fisher brought them along in?"

"No, sir," Mr Goon said, looking triumphant. "But I'm sure Mr Fisher can buy a new one. I reckon old Ted Masters was so sure of himself he thought the coins would be perfectly safe in here."

"It's a good job a burglar didn't break in," said Pip, sounding flabbergasted. "Imagine making off with all these nice ornaments, expecting to make a few bob...and then discovering those coins inside the vase!"

Superintendent Jenks looked around. "So all's well that ends well. Find-Outers, once again you've come through on top—and because I'm in such a good mood, and everything's worked out all right, I might just forget that Mr Goon here arrested the wrong man on very flimsy evidence. That is, of course, if Mr Johnson is willing to forgive him. What do you think, Mr Johnson?"

Everyone looked at Mr Johnson. He narrowed his eyes, staring at the red-faced policeman. He thought for what seemed a very long time.

Then he sighed. "Perhaps if he buys us all tea? How about it, Mr Goon?"

Bets clapped her hands together. "Oh, yes! How about macaroons all round?"

"Or," said Pip, nudging Daisy, "how about sausage rolls? We know a very good bakery that sells them."

"Gah!" said Mr Goon.

The End

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