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 18: Mr Goon Loses his Temper

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Fatty and the others were settled in the shed. The heater had warmed everyone up quite nicely and Fatty had handed round a tin of biscuits. Everyone felt rather low after all the things Mr Johns had said to them. Fatty, especially, felt completely helpless.

'We have to do something ,' he said looking round at the others.

'I agree,' Larry said, 'but what?'

'That man told us not to do anything,' Daisy said.

'But we didn't promise not to,' Eunice said. 'I'm all for getting involved,' she continued. 'And so are you Frederick, I can tell.'

Bets looked concerned. 'But this is very serious, Fatty,' she said. 'It's not as though we're searching for a burglar or someone who's writing anonymous letters, these people are spies.'

What Bets had said was perfectly true. The men who had taken Goon and the boy and probably Uncle Harold were ruthless, foreign agents who carried guns and were not afraid to use them. Everyone was quiet for a while.

'Are you going to tell your parents?' Daisy asked. 'About Uncle Harold, I mean.'

Fatty shook his head. 'I don't see that I can,' he said slowly. 'There's nothing they could do and it would only cause them a lot of worry.' Then, quite suddenly, he perked up. 'I know what I'll do, I'll search Uncle Harold's room,' he declared. 'You never know, there might be a clue there. After all, he must have got some kind of lead before he disappeared.'

'Well, it can't do any harm,' Pip said. 'And I'm sure he wouldn't mind you looking through his things if it means helping him.'

'Exactly,' Fatty said. 'I'll have to choose my moment though. I don't want Mother or Dad to see me rummaging around in Uncle's room, nor Jane for that matter.' He thought for a moment. 'Look, it's coming up to lunchtime, Dad's at work and I think Mother's out shopping in Maidenhead.'

'Yes, she is,' Eunice confirmed. 'She mentioned it to me this morning.'

'So there's only Jane and cook in the house at the moment,' Fatty said and looked at Eunice. 'After lunch how about you popping to the kitchen and engaging Jane in conversation whilst I give Uncle Harold's room the once over?'

'All right,' Eunice said eagerly, 'I'm sure I'll be able to think of something. Perhaps I'll ask her about her mother's health, that should keep her occupied for quite a while.'

'Good idea,' Fatty said with a grin. It seemed that Jane's mother had just about every complaint going! 'And we'll meet back here at about two-thirty, if that's all right.'

The others all nodded.

'Crumbs, this is getting exciting,' Pip said as they all trooped out of the shed.

'I only hope Uncle Harold's all right,' Fatty said dismally.

Pip blushed slightly. 'Yes, of course, Fatty, I didn't mean I wasn't concerned about your uncle, it's just that it's been such a while since we've had something to get our teeth into.'

Fatty patted him on the shoulder. 'I know, Pip. I feel that way too.'

Having seen the others off at the front gate, Fatty and Eunice went inside and settled down to lunch. Jane served it, liver and bacon with tinned peaches and custard to follow.

'Right, now I want you to keep Janet downstairs,' Fatty said standing up. 'I shouldn't be too long.'

He hurried upstairs and shortly afterwards Jane arrived to remove the plates. 'I'll help you with those,' Eunice said picking up the plates. 'How's your mother?' she asked as they walked to the kitchen.

'Oh, thank you for asking, Miss, she's been particularly bad during this cold spell,' Jane said. 'What with her rheumatism and weak chest and she hasn't quite got over that attack of shingles she had in October...' With Eunice adopting a concerned expression and nodding her head sympathetically, they both disappeared into the kitchen.

Fatty went into Uncle Harold's room and looked around. First, he went to the wardrobe and looked through the pockets of the jackets and trousers hanging there, but found nothing. He then searched the chest of drawers and the dressing table, again to no avail. He really had no idea what he was looking for, just something that might give him a lead.

Having opened his uncle's suitcase and taken out its contents, Fatty came across the typed manuscript of Uncle Harold's memoirs. He opened it and as he flicked through its pages, a slip of notepaper fell out. Fatty picked it up and read it.

On it, in his uncle's rather untidy handwriting, were the names of various places and people. Featherstone's was mentioned, as was Artisan Passage. The name Digby appeared, although the name Johns did not. There were a couple of names that Fatty did not recognise, Anton Ketslang and Miklos Neiman. The last thing written was: 'Must find The Hideout'.

Fatty folded the sheet of paper and tucked it into his jacket pocket.

After tidying everything up again, he went downstairs and poked his head round the kitchen door just as Jane was explaining to Eunice about her mother's last operation. 'Sorry to interrupt,' Fatty said, 'but I need to speak to Eunice rather urgently.'

Jane seemed disappointed. 'Oh, very well, Miss Eunice,' she said, 'I'll finish telling you later.'

Together, Fatty and Eunice went into the drawing room.

'Did you find anything?' Eunice asked as soon as they were in the room.

'Yes,' Fatty replied and showed her the paper.

'Who are these people?' Eunice asked reading the two foreign sounding names.

'No idea,' Fatty said. 'But I bet you anything they're Borovian names.'

'Must find the hideout,' Eunice read aloud. 'That's not much help is it?'

'No,' Fatty said poking the fire. 'He must have got a lead and went off to investigate it.'

'Do you think the hideout refers to that cottage where the scientists were holed up?' Eunice asked.

Fatty shook his head. 'No I don't,' he said. 'You see he mentions Artisan Passage and then says he must find the hideout. That suggests to me that they're two different places.'

Eunice handed back the paper. 'But that doesn't help at all,' she said dismally. 'This hideout could be anywhere in the country.'

'Well, I would imagine it's reasonably local,' Fatty said. 'But you're right, it could be anywhere, London, even.'

Just then, there was a loud knock on the front door. Buster immediately dashed out of the room and Fatty followed him into the hall. 'It's all right, Jane,' he called, 'I'll answer it.'

He opened the door and was astonished to find Mr Goon standing on the front door step. Buster started to growl at the sight of his old enemy and Fatty grabbed hold of his collar.

'So, I've got you, have I?' Goon said with unconcealed relish.

'Have you, indeed?' Fatty asked. 'Do you realise people are looking for you?' he added.

'That's neither here nor there,' Goon said.

'Quite so, Mr Goon, you were neither here nor there and that's why people are looking for you,' Fatty said.

'Keep your trap shut, Master Clever Clogs Trotteville. You're in deep trouble, you are,' Goon said and gave Fatty a toothy grin.

'Will I need to contact my solicitor?' Fatty asked sarcastically. 'And would you kindly explain to me what I'm supposed to have done.'

Goon leaned forward putting his face close to Fatty's. 'You were seen. Ho yes, I've got a witness.' He gave a laugh. 'It's been a long time coming, but I've finally got you bang to rights.'

Eunice was now standing behind Fatty. 'What's going on?' she asked sharply when she saw Goon.

'Oh, I see you've got your girlfriend here again,' he said smirking horribly at Eunice.

'I thought you were missing?' Eunice said.

'Well you thought wrong, didn't you, Miss Know it all,' Goon said. 'Now if you'd care to mind your own business, he's coming with me.'

Fatty turned to Eunice. 'I'd better go with him and find out what all this is about,' he said. 'Am I allowed to put my coat on?' he asked Goon, 'only it is a little nippy at the moment.'

'Be quick about it, I haven't got all day,' Goon sneered.

Fatty went back into the house, dragging Buster with him and shutting him in the drawing room. 'Look, Eunice,' he said pulling the sheet of paper he had found in his uncle's room from his pocket. 'Keep this safe, I don't want Goon to find it if he searches me.' He handed the paper over. 'Now, I've no idea what this is all about nor how long it's going to take,' he continued. 'Goon will do all he can to keep me there as long as possible, he gets a thrill out of thinking he's got power over me, you see. So, if I'm not back within the hour, call Larry and ask him to contact Superintendent Jenks because I don't think Goon will let me near a telephone.'

'Of course I will,' Eunice said with a concerned look on her face. 'Oh, that awful policeman! Why has he suddenly turned up, I thought he was missing?'

'Yes, so did I,' said Fatty as he put on his overcoat, scarf and cap. 'Well, here goes.' He returned to the front door where he stood to attention in front of Goon and held his hands out in front of him, wrists touching. 'I'm ready for the handcuffs, Officer,' he said dramatically.

'Don't think I wouldn't like to clap you in irons, you toad,' Goon sneered, 'but as it is, I didn't bring any with me.'

'Don't worry, Mr Goon,' Fatty said amiably, 'I promise not to run away.'

It only took a few minutes to get to Goon's house. They went inside and Goon took Fatty into his office. He sat down behind his desk and slowly began to sort through the papers strewn across its surface. Fatty was left to wait, standing in the centre of the room. First, Goon picked up one document and browsed through it, then another, and another, and never once did he look up at Fatty.

Eventually, Fatty cleared his throat noisily.

'As much as I enjoy watching you shuffle papers, Mr Goon, there are things I should be getting on with,' he said.

Goon looked up and slowly eyed Fatty up and down. He then sat back in his chair and put his fingers together in a self-important sort of way. 'What were you doing in Number Two Artisan Passage, yesterday evening?' he asked in an officious voice.

'Artisan Passage?' Fatty said innocently, 'where's that? I've heard of the North-West Passage, is it near there?'

'You know very well where Artisan Passage is and you was seen climbing into Number Two through the window at the rear of the property,' Goon said. 'And it's no good you denying it, I've got a perfectly reliable witness.'

Fatty was not expecting this. He was astonished to learn that someone had seen him. Then he remembered that he thought he had heard someone when he was in the loft, but had dismissed it. So someone had followed him in to the building.

'This is very interesting,' Fatty said, 'and may I ask who this reliable witness is?'

'No you may not,' Goon said. 'What were you doing there?'

'I was looking for someone, actually,' Fatty said. He realised there was no point denying he had been there, Goon clearly knew he had and also had this witness.

'Looking for someone?' Goon said in astonishment. 'What do you mean looking for someone? Who would be in that derelict cottage?'

'I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say,' Fatty said feeling that he was getting into very deep water.

'You're not at liberty to say?' Goon repeated. 'What does that mean?'

'It means I can't tell you,' Fatty said.

'I know what it means!' Goon shouted. 'Well, this won't do, you're going to have to tell me, or you're going to find yourself in very serious trouble,' he said in a calmer voice. 'I was forcibly abducted at gunpoint in that cottage, and just a short time earlier you were seen entering said cottage. Do you expect me to believe that the two things are not connected? Well, I'm not that stupid.'

'How stupid you may or may not be, has nothing to do with it, Mr Goon, but I promise you in all honesty that I had nothing to do with your abduction,' Fatty assured him. 'Was I actually there when you were abducted at gunpoint?' he asked.

'I didn't see you, but that doesn't mean to say you weren't,' Goon retorted. 'I was blindfolded, as well you know.'

'And when did this abduction occur?' Fatty asked.

'Last night,' Goon said. 'About eight o'clock.'

'Oh well, then,' Fatty said instantly perking up. 'I have an alibi. I was at home at that time, chatting to Eunice. And if you don't believe me, ask her.'

'But she'd lie to protect you, I wouldn't believe anything she says, nor any of your other cronies, neither,' Goon replied.

'Our house parlour maid, Jane, was there as well, she'll vouch for me,' Fatty said. 'Unless you're suggesting that she's also one of my, so called, cronies, as you put it.'

'You still haven't told me what you were doing there,' Goon persisted, 'and unless you do, I shall chuck the book at you.'

'As I've said, Mr Goon, I'm not able to,' Fatty insisted. He certainly did not want to involve Goon in this business if he could help it and he had been instructed by Mr Johns not to discuss it with anyone and as far as Fatty was concerned, that included Goon.

At that moment the telephone in the hall rang.

'You just stay put,' Goon said as he left the room to answer it, shutting the door behind him.

Fatty immediately went to the door and put his ear to it.

'Yes, Sir,' he heard Goon say. 'It was all very traumatic, Sir. They were vicious thugs and violent with it. Like I said in my report, Sir, they threatened to shoot me. Foreigners, they were. They blindfolded me and the boy. Yes, Sir, I'll get a statement from the boy and er, the er Vicar's sister as well. Yes, Sir, the Vicar's sister, Miss Twit. Well, she actually got me out of this cellar they'd put me in. Yes, Sir, as you say, I was rescued by the Vicar's sister. That's a nasty cough, you've got there, Sir. I don't know how many of them, Sir, lots though, but as I say I was blindfolded, so can't be sure of the exact number.' He lowered his voice. 'I heard one of them say something to the effect that they ought to take the other two to the hideout as it had finally arrived, whatever that means. Oh, and something else, Sir, I've got the Trotteville boy here. Yes, I know, Sir, but he was seen going into this cottage just before I was abducted. Well, he must be involved in it. Says he was looking for someone, but can't tell me who, just a pack of lies, of course. What, you want to talk to him? But... but... but... yes, Sir, of course, Sir. I'll get him straight away.'

Fatty leapt back into the centre of the room as Goon opened the door. 'Superintendent Jenks wants a word with you,' he said.

Fatty nodded and went to the telephone.

'Hello, Sir,' he said.

'Hello Frederick,' Superintendent Jenks said. 'I've had a report from Mr Johns. He tells me that he found you and the others in the cottage in Artisan Passage and explained to you that this is a very serious business.'

'Yes, Sir, he did,' Fatty said. 'We were actually concerned about Mr Goon and the boy, which is why we went there this morning.' He paused and looked across the hall at Goon who was listening to every word. 'And I think you know why I was there last evening and I can assure you that I had nothing whatsoever to do with Mr Goon's abduction.'

'I realise that Frederick. Have you told Goon anything about this business?' Superintendent Jenks asked.

'No, Sir, we were told not to discuss it with anyone,' Fatty replied.

'Very well, Frederick,' Superintendent Jenks said. 'Put Goon back on please.'

Fatty held the phone out to Goon who snatched it from him and gestured to him to go back into the office.

Fatty waited, wondering what the Superintendent was saying. After a couple of minutes the door opened and Goon entered. He strode over to his desk and flopped down into his chair. 'Come on, Frederick,' he said in a calm and ingratiating voice. 'What's all this about, you can tell me?'

Fatty gave a shrug. 'I can't say, Mr Goon,' he said, 'it's confidential.'

At this, Goon suddenly lost his temper. 'But I'm the police,' he yelled and brought his fist down on the desk making a teacup jump out of its saucer.

It seemed to Fatty, at that moment, that Goon was on the verge of some kind of fit. His face was rapidly turning an alarming shade of purple and his eyes were bulging to such an extent that they seemed in danger of popping out of their sockets.

'I think you should calm down, Mr Goon,' Fatty said in a soothing voice, as he was genuinely concerned for Goon's health. 'I'm sure you'll hear all about it eventually, but at present I'm not at liberty to say anything.'

'Get out,' Goon hissed through clenched teeth. 'Get out, you toad, you maggot.' He then jumped to his feet. 'GET OUT, YOU SWINE! GET OUT! GET OUT!' he yelled at the top of his voice.

Fearful that Goon might attack him, and with this cry echoing in his ears, Fatty turned and ran from the house.

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