The Mystery of the Stolen Secrets

©2017 Richard Humphreys

It's going to be a white Christmas and Fatty's Uncle Harold comes to stay. However, before long Fatty begins to notice that his uncle is acting suspiciously. Why did he go out secretly in the middle of the night? Did he steal some keys from a local house agents' office? Who is the man with a limp? The Find Outers get on the case and are soon embroiled in a mystery that involves spies, stolen secrets and a dangerous chase along the river in the dead of night...

Chapter 1: Toasted Crumpets

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'I like it when it's nice and cold at Christmas,' Bets said as she knelt on the window seat and looked out of the playroom window at the falling snow. 'It makes everything seem more cosy somehow.'

'It's not Christmas yet,' her older brother Pip said without looking up from the book he was reading. 'There's another two weeks to go, by which time it'll probably be mild and rainy.'

'Oh, I hope the snow lasts another two weeks, at least,' Bets said. 'On Christmas morning, I want to look out of my bedroom window onto a crisp white world and see Old Clear Orf standing in the garden in all his glory.'

Pip put down his book and joined her. 'Yes,' he said, wiping away the mist from his side of the window, 'that's a very fine snowman, it looks just like Old Clear Orf. Fatty's a marvel, we couldn't have made it without him. It's just a pity Mother wouldn't allow us to put that papier mache policeman's helmet we bought in Oxford Street on its head. It would have finished it off nicely.'

'Yes, it would,' agreed Bets, 'but he is wearing a helmet made of snow and Fatty's idea of using two ping-pong balls for his big bulging eyes was a brainwave.'

Fatty was the nickname of their firm friend Frederick Trotteville. Pip and Bets Hilton and Fatty along with their friends Larry and Daisy Daykin and Fatty's little Scottie Dog Buster, made up the Five Find-Outers and Dog. They had solved a number of mysteries in their village of Peterswood over the years, much to the annoyance of the local policeman, Constable Goon. The Find-Outers called him 'Old Clear Orf' because that is what he would usually tell them to do whenever they met him. Mr. Goon despised the Find-Outers because they always managed to solve mysteries before he did and they despised him in equal measure.

Bets jumped down from the window seat and went over to the fire, which was blazing gaily. 'Mother says we can toast some crumpets when the others arrive,' she said.

'Then I wish they'd hurry up,' said Pip. 'I could just do with a couple of nice buttery crumpets.'

Just then, from outside came a familiar whistle and loud barking.

'They're here,' cried Pip.

Bets rushed back to the window and saw Fatty standing on the lawn with his arm amiably around the shoulders of the snowman and a big grin on his face. Larry and Daisy were throwing snowballs at each other and rushing around like a mad thing was Buster the Scottie. Pip opened the window letting in a draught of cold air and a flurry of snowflakes. 'The side door's open,' he called, 'come straight in.'

Bets got to the top of the stairs just as the others appeared in the hall. They stamped the snow off their shoes onto the doormat and hung up their coats and scarves as Buster hurtled up the stairs to Bets. 'Oh, Buster, you're all snowy,' she cried bending down to brush some flakes from his back as he jumped up and licked her face.

Mrs Hilton, Pip and Bets' mother, appeared from the kitchen. 'Good afternoon, children,' she said to Larry, Daisy and Fatty. 'I'll send Hilda up with the crumpets and tea when you're all settled,' she called up the stairs to Bets.

'Thank you, Mother,' Bets called back, 'but I think we're all settled now.'

Mrs Hilton laughed. 'Very well,' she said, 'they'll be up directly.'

The children all gathered in the playroom and Fatty, Daisy and Larry warmed themselves by the fire. 'They say it could be the coldest December in ten years,' Larry said.

'Oh good,' cried Bets. 'Perhaps we'll get snowed in and you all won't have to go back to school till March.'

Bets went to a day school and missed the others when they all went off to boarding school for such long stretches.

Pip pulled a box out of the cupboard. 'Who's for a game of Buccaneer?' he asked.

'Did I hear that crumpets and tea are on their way?' Fatty said. 'Perhaps we should wait till we've eaten before settling down to a game.'

'All right,' said Pip clearing the table. 'I'll set the board up for later.'

Just then, there was a knock at the playroom door, and Pip rushed to open it. It was Hilda carrying a very large tray.

'Golly,' Pip said eyeing the huge pile of crumpets, 'that's enough for an army. He quickly removed the Buccaneer board from the table and Hilda put down the tray.

'There's three each,' she said, 'and plenty of butter. And there's some jam as well if you want it. The tea's brewing in the pot and be careful with the hot water jug. Oh yes, Master Pip,' she continued, 'and your mother says to be very careful with the toasting forks.'

'Thank you, Hilda,' Pip said gently bustling her to the door. 'Tell Mother we'll be as careful as careful can be.'

'Well, you mind you are,' Hilda said over her shoulder. 'We don't want any accidents, not so near to Christmas.'

There were three toasting forks, and Fatty, Larry and Pip sat round the fire toasting the crumpets. As each was toasted, they were kept warm on a plate by the fire until the last one had been browned, then Daisy and Bets buttered them. Soon everyone had a plate of crumpets, the tea had been poured and they all settled down to enjoy their feast in silence with just the sound of the coal hissing in the grate and the clock ticking on the mantelpiece. It was all very homely.

When they had finished, Fatty stretched out in his chair and sighed. 'You can't beat crumpets toasted on an open fire,' he said patting his rather large tummy. 'They're just not the same when they're done in a toaster.'

'There's one left,' said Bets. 'I vote we give it to old Buster. He's been staring at me with those great big brown eyes of his for the past fifteen minutes.' She tore the crumpet into pieces and put them on a plate, which she presented to Buster. Within two seconds the plate was empty and the little Scottie was licking the butter from his lips. 'Buster doesn't eat,' Bets said with a giggle, 'he just sucks food up like a vacuum cleaner. I'm sure he never tastes anything.'

'He has his own views on table etiquette, don't you Buster old chap?' Fatty said with a yawn.

The Scottie wagged his tail and plonked himself down by the fire where he stretched out and sighed with contentment.

Bets began piling the plates and cups up on the tray. 'Still want to play Buccaneer, Pip?' she asked doubtfully, 'or are we all feeling too lazy now?'

'Hands up all those who want to play Buccaneer?' asked Pip. Nobody stirred. 'I think there's your answer, Bets,' he said.

'Oh well, I'll put it back in the cupboard then,' Bets said. She liked things to be neat and tidy.

'Anyone seen Old Clear Orf lately?' asked Larry.

'Not a sniff, don't think he likes the cold,' Fatty muttered.

'I saw him ticking off a couple of a couple of little kids for throwing a snowball at him, yesterday,' Pip said with a laugh.

'It's heart-warming to know that the next generation are carrying on the great village tradition of baiting Goon,' Fatty said. 'I should hate to think of him having a easy time of it when we're all grown up.'

'Anyone heard about any mysteries?' asked Daisy.

'There are those scientists who disappeared from that research centre in Amersham a couple of weeks ago,' Larry said.

'What about these scientists?' Bets asked pushing hard on the toy cupboard door to make it close.

'You really ought to read the newspapers, Bets, rather than those silly comics of yours,' Pip said scornfully. 'You might learn something, then.'

'They were working late at the research centre and simply disappeared,' Fatty said. 'I read in the paper that they may have defected.'

'Defected?' asked Bets. 'What does that mean?'

'Going over to the other side,' Pip said.

'The other side of what?' Bets persisted. 'You're not making much sense, Pip.'

'Joined the enemies of our country,' Pip said in an exasperated tone. 'To give away all our secrets.'

'Oh yes, has your uncle arrived yet, Fatty?' Daisy asked, changing the subject. 'Only I remember you saying he was coming to stay for Christmas.'

'Yes, Uncle Harold has been out in Borovia for years and he's arriving on Friday, I think,' Fatty said poking the fire. 'I've never met him, as it's years since he's been back in England.'

'Borovia's an awful place,' Larry said, 'and they're no friend of our country.'

'No, they're not,' Fatty said. 'They're always causing trouble in the region and starting wars.'

'And what does your uncle do out there?' Daisy asked.

'He's something to do with the diplomatic service, connected with the embassy, you know,' Fatty said. 'He's been out there for twenty years, but he's retiring soon and is looking for somewhere to live back here.'

'What, in Peterswood?' asked Bets still struggling to close the toy cupboard.

'Yes, hereabouts at any rate,' Fatty said. 'He wrote to Dad about two months ago to arrange his stay with us, and said that he would be moving back to England and will be looking for a house. He's also written a book about his time in Borovia, which he's hoping to get published. He's been in touch with a publisher over here, someone called Digby. He turned up on the doorstep last week expecting to see Uncle but he'd got his dates wrong.'

Pip, who had no interest in Borovia, yawned rather loudly. 'How about coming over tomorrow afternoon for a game of cards or something?' he suggested. 'Our cook said she'll be making mince pies in the morning and I'm sure if I ask nicely she'll let us have a couple each.'

'Can't tomorrow,' Fatty said. 'I promised Mother I'd go into Maidenhead with her to buy a present for Dad.'

'That's a pity, how about you two?' Pip asked turning to Larry and Daisy.

'Rather,' said Larry. 'Your cook makes the best mince pies ever. Our mother always orders them from some posh place in London, but they're not a patch on your cook's, Pip.'

'I'll tell her what you said Larry and maybe she'll give us an extra one each,' Pip said with a laugh.

'Be sure you do,' said Larry.

Bets sat down on the hearthrug and began to tickle Buster's tummy. 'Have you tried out any new disguises lately?' she asked Fatty.

Fatty often used disguises when they were investigating a mystery and he had something of a genius for it. In his shed, at the bottom of his garden, he had a big collection of false beards, eyebrows and wigs, sets of theatrical teeth as well as make-up and costumes of all description.

'I might have,' he said with a vague shrug of his shoulders. 'Perhaps I'll try a new one out on you to see whether I've still got the knack.'

'Oh yes, do,' said Bets, her eyes shining. She always thought it was great fun when Fatty disguised himself and the others had to try and pick him out in a crowd. He had done it many times before and more often as not had completely fooled them. 'When?' she asked eagerly.

'You'll have to wait and see,' Fatty replied. 'If I told you when and where, you'd be bound to spot me.' He gave her a big smile. 'Sometime this week,' he said.

'Did you all hear that?' she said to the others. 'Fatty's going to dress up and try and catch us out sometime this week.'

'Well, I think we're all pretty much used to your disguises by now,' Larry said, 'so, I bet we manage to spot you.'

'We'll see,' said Fatty with a rye smile. He was up for the challenge, but at that moment had no idea which disguise he would use. He would have to think of something very special to fool the others.

They chatted on for a while, and then the clock on the mantelpiece struck four. Fatty stood up. 'Well, everyone,' he said, 'I'm going to have to love you and leave you, I'm afraid. I've promised to help decorate the Christmas tree that was delivered this afternoon. Without my help, Mother will need to use a step-ladder, it's so tall.'

Buster was on his feet wagging his tail excitedly at the thought of going out into the snow again.

They said their goodbyes and Bets went downstairs with Fatty to see him out. 'And just remember to keep your eyes peeled,' he said as he put on his overcoat and scarf, 'I might be anywhere at any time.' He gave her a mischievous grin and a wink.

'We'll all be sure to,' Bets said as they walked to the door. 'Enjoy your shopping in Maidenhead tomorrow.'

Fatty waved goodbye and walked across the lawn to Old Clear Orf the snowman. He patted it gently on the head and then having whistled to Buster, made his way down the drive and out of the gate.

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