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 4: Sausage rolls—and a discovery!

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The Five Find-Outers walked slowly along the quiet narrow alleyway, their eyes cast down onto the uneven paving stones where weeds poked up through the gaps.

Larry twisted and broke off a thin overhanging branch and worked at it for a moment, stripping it bare of leaves. The others watched him, puzzled—and then their faces brightened as Larry began thrashing at stinging nettles that grew in clumps up ahead. "Nasty old things," he said, stamping them down so they were good and flat.

Fatty made an exclamation and the others turned to him. "Look," he said. "Someone might have squeezed through this gap in the fence."

A small section in the chain link fence had been peeled back. Fatty grasped it and widened the gap, peering through the fence at the thick bushes beyond.

"The intruder might have squeezed through there," said Pip doubtfully. "But he might not have. He might have simply run off up the alley."

"True," Fatty agreed. "So why don't you and Daisy go that way, and the others can come with me into the old school grounds. We'll have a poke around and see if we can find anything."

Fatty, Larry and Bets squeezed one by one through the tiny gap in the fence and disappeared into the bushes, while Pip and Daisy continued up the alley, their eyes sharp and alert for possible clues.

"It's so exciting to be on the track of another mystery!" said Daisy happily. "Why would someone break into a library? What can be so important that someone would risk smashing a window for?"

Pip shrugged. "I can't for the life of me think why someone would break in and steal a few books. Money, maybe—but not books. Not unless they were valuable, and I doubt any of the books in the library are valuable, otherwise we wouldn't be allowed to borrow them! And anyway, why not just walk in during open hours and sneak a few books out under a coat?"

"Maybe the intruder's not a member," said Daisy.

Pip frowned. "But he could still wander about and pretend he is, and then leave as if he hadn't found anything he wanted. Would Mrs Sharple know he's not a member, just by sight? Surely she can't remember all the library members!"

They walked in silence for a while, the alleyway eerily quiet and still. Occasionally they heard voices behind the wooden fences to their right—a lady doing a spot of gardening, and children playing ball. But all the voices seemed distant, strangely unable to disturb the stillness of the alley.

"Creepy, isn't it?" said Daisy with a shudder. "I couldn't imagine coming along here on my own at night!"

Pip looked behind him, and then ahead. "We're only about halfway along too. Come on, let's speed up a little, otherwise we'll be here all day."

They picked up their pace and walked all the way to the far end of the alley without finding a single clue. There were bits of rubbish lying about, and lots of cigarette ends, but nothing that looked fresh from the previous night. They emerged from the end of alley empty-handed.

"Oh, we're at the bakery!" Daisy exclaimed. "We've been here lots of times and never even knew this alley was here!"

A large freestanding sign stood outside the bakery, right in front of the alley. What with the sign and the overhanging trees and bushes, passers-by would be hard-pushed to spot the alley unless they were looking for it.

The delicious aroma of freshly baked sausage rolls wafted out the bakery door. "Come on," said Pip, heading inside. "It'll be hours until lunch. We'll grab a few snacks and head back to join the others."

Minutes later they emerged from the bakery with Pip carrying a paper bag containing five jumbo size sausage rolls. His stomach was already growling as he hurried down the alley with Daisy right behind him.

"Oh no!" Daisy said suddenly.

Pip saw it too—a dark blue figure up ahead. Old Clear-Orf was on the trail!

"We have nothing to hide," said Pip, after faltering for a moment. "We're just buying sausage rolls and heading back to the library to eat them. After all, we have a lot of inventory work ahead of us."

"Just don't tell him where the others are," Daisy murmured. "He'll have a fit. He'll probably arrest them for trespassing."

Mr Goon's eyes were on the ground as they approached, and he didn't look up until they were within twenty paces. "Ho!" he exclaimed, clearly irritated. "I wondered where you'd all gone. Hoped you'd cleared orf home. But here you are, turning up like bad pennies as usual."

"Fancy a sausage roll, Mr Goon?" Pip asked politely, holding out the bag.

Mr Goon glanced at the bag and sniffed involuntarily, and for a brief moment his irritated expression was replaced with longing. Pip waved the bag under his nose. "Really, Mr Goon—they're hot and fresh. If you want one, I'd be glad to tell you where I got them from."

"Yes," said Daisy quickly, "the bakery's just along the alley. There were still a few sausage rolls left when we left."

Pip opened the bag, reached in, and withdrew one. He bit into it and closed his eyes. "Mmm," he said with his mouth full. "Oh yes. This is the best sausage roll I've ever had. Want one, Daisy?"

"I'd love one, Pip." Daisy reached into the bag, withdrew one, and took a huge, very un-lady-like bite. "Mmmm-mmm."

Mr Goon's face turned red. "Gah! You kids always seem to be eating. You'll get fat one of these days, like that other boy, Frederick Trotteville."

Pip wondered what Fatty would say to that if he were here. Mr Goon wasn't exactly lean himself.

"Speaking of that boy," Mr Goon said, suddenly looking puzzled, "where is he?"

Pip thought quickly. "I thought he was waiting in the library garden. Daisy and I were just going to get a snack. Wasn't he there, with Larry and Bets?"

"No, he wasn't," the policeman snapped. "I'll bet he's snooping around, poking his nose into affairs that don't concern him. Looking for clues, no doubt. Well, if he's been up this alley already, you tell him he missed one."

Mr Goon seemed pleased with himself all of a sudden. Pip and Daisy glanced at each other.

"What clue would that be, Mr Goon?" Pip asked, curious. If Mr Goon really had found a clue just now, how come the Find-Outers hadn't found it?

But Mr Goon simply tapped his breast pocket. "Hah! Think I'd tell you? Now, be orf with you. Go and help Mrs Sharple with her inventory if you must—I'm finished in there. And the glazing company has just arrived, so stay out of their way while they sort out that window."

With that, Mr Goon stomped past them, eyes on the ground.

"Well!" said Pip, astonished. He stared at his sausage roll as if it was to blame for something. "Old Clear Orf found a clue! Why didn't we spot anything?"

"It probably wasn't a clue at all," Daisy said, giggling suddenly. "It was probably one of a hundred cigarette ends, or a wrapping paper that's been there for months. I doubt Mr Goon would know the difference between a fresh clue and an old piece of rubbish."

Feeling relieved, they continued along the path until they reached the gap in the chain link fence. Pip glanced back over his shoulder to make sure Mr Goon wasn't watching. He wasn't; he was ambling along in the far distance, staring hard at the ground.

Quick as a flash, Pip and Daisy scrambled through the hole, taking care not to drop or bump their half-eaten sausage rolls. They emerged into the bushes and threaded their way through until they reached a wide open field of long grass. Over the far side of the field stood a rundown brick building—the old primary school.

"Where are the others?" Daisy asked, looking carefully about. "I can't see them anywhere."

But Pip could. He nudged Daisy with an elbow and pointed to where a small shed stood off to one side, fairly close to the iron railing that ran along Union Street. Fatty, Larry and Bets were there, sitting on the grass by the shed door—and they were busy looking at something.

"What have they got?" asked Daisy curiously. "Oh, do you think it's a clue?"

"Let's go and see," said Pip, and headed off at top speed across the field.

As they approached they heard Bets' excited voice, but Pip couldn't make out the words. They'd found something all right! But what?

"Hey," he called. The others glanced round at him. "What have you found?"

"Oh, Pip!" Bets squealed. "We've found the stolen books!"

Startled, Pip and Daisy at last reached the trio sitting on the grass and stopped breathlessly with sausage rolls forgotten in their hands.

Fatty, Larry and Bets were crowded around a huge pile of books, perhaps forty or fifty of them. They had been strewn carelessly about, and lay open and flapping in the breeze, some upside down with badly creased pages, others tossed haphazardly aside to lie in the slightly damp grass. Pip was shocked. It seemed they were all ruined.

Fatty held up a book. "See this, Pip? The Mindset of Thieves." Fatty dropped it and picked up another. "Crime Doesn't Pay. And see here—Sniffing Out Criminals."

Dumbfounded, Pip glanced at some of the other titles as Fatty continued to sift through them.

"Every single one of these is to do with crime and detection," said Larry. "There aren't any others. No history books, no sports journals, nothing! Just crime and detection."

Daisy found her voice. "But...why would someone steal a bunch of books and...and dump them here?"

Fatty got to his feet, looking with interest at the paper bag Pip held. "Are those for us, old boy? Jolly decent of you."

Pip remembered the sausage rolls and held out the bag. "Sorry. Completely forgot about them. Tuck in, you three—they're delicious!"

While the five of them munched on their sausage rolls, they stood looking down at the sad pile of books. Perhaps they could be saved, thought Pip as he popped the last of his pastry into his mouth. With a bit of tender loving care...

He frowned, chewing slowly. "You know," he said, "whoever stole these must have had a bag of some kind. He couldn't have carried all these in his hands. But there's no bag here."

"Correct," Fatty said with his mouth full. "And...?"

"And..." Pip stopped, thinking hard. "And what? He had a bag. That's all. I suppose he knew there were lots of books in that section and brought a bag along with him—which he took away again afterwards."

"It suggests forethought," said Fatty, nodding.

"But why dump them here?" asked Daisy again. "Why dump them at all? What's the point in stealing books and then leaving them in a field straight afterwards?"

"And that," Fatty announced, waving half a sausage roll about, "is what we have to find out." He smiled at Bets. "It is the Mystery of the Stolen Books after all, young Bets. Why did someone break in, steal them—and then dump them all?"

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