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 19: The Hideout

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Eunice was waiting for Fatty when he returned.

'What did Goon want you for?' she asked as soon as he was through the door.

'I think he's finally gone mad,' Fatty said taking off his coat. 'I got out just in time otherwise I think he might have gone for me, he's so wound up.'

'But what did he want to see you about?' Eunice persisted.

'Oh, he says he has a witness who saw me going into that old cottage the same night he was abducted and as usual he assumed that I was somehow involved in it,' Fatty said as they walked into the drawing room. 'You'd think after all this time, he'd realise which side of the law I'm actually on. It's just personal hatred that motivates his every action where I'm concerned. Hatred and envy.'

'I telephoned Larry after an hour, as you said,' Eunice said.

'Yes, he must have got straight onto it because Goon got a phone call from the Superintendent,' Fatty said. 'I overheard some of what was said, and then the Super wanted to speak to me.'

'What did he say?' Eunice asked.

'Oh, nothing much, just that he had heard from Johns and that he understood that I had nothing to do with the abduction of Goon and the boy,' Fatty said. 'Then, he wanted to speak to Goon again.' He looked at his watch. 'Crumbs,' he said, 'the others will be here soon, it's almost half past two.'

They both grabbed their coats and with Buster leading the way, went down the garden to Fatty's shed. He immediately lit the heater.

'You've still got the slip of paper I gave you?' he asked Eunice.

'Of course,' she replied and pulled it from her pocket. 'You don't think I'd have lost this do you, it's far too valuable.'

Fatty took it from her and looked at it again. 'Not sure how valuable it is,' he said dismally. 'It doesn't tell us much more than we already know.'

Just then, Buster began to bark and there was a knock at the shed door. Larry, Daisy, Pip and Bets came in and were immediately welcomed enthusiastically by a very excited Buster. As was the custom, before the business of the meeting was begun, biscuits and lemonade were handed round.

'Glad to see that you've escaped the clutches of Goon,' Larry said. 'After Eunice told me what had happened, I got on to the Super straight away.'

'Yes, thanks for that, Larry,' Fatty said. 'Goon was in a terrible state. Shouting and screaming and banging his fist down on his desk.'

'Why was he so angry?' asked Bets.

'Because this business is so important, he's been excluded from knowing any of the details, and he's furious that I haven't,' Fatty said and passed around the biscuit tin again.

'So was he kidnapped or not?' asked Daisy.

'Yes, he was,' Fatty said, 'and this boy, whoever he is.'

'How did he escape, then?' asked Larry.

'Well that's the funny thing,' Fatty said with a big grin. 'I managed to overhear some of the conversation he was having with the Super and it seems he was rescued by Miss Twit.'

'You're joking,' said Daisy and everybody had a good laugh.

When they had all settled down again, Fatty took the slip of paper he had found in his uncle's room from his pocket. 'I told you before lunch that I was going to search Uncle's room, well I did and this is what I found.' He held up the paper. 'It appears to be some notes that Uncle had made, but unfortunately it doesn't tell us much.

He handed it to Larry who read it through quickly. 'These two names,' he said, 'Anton Ketslang and Miklos Neiman, who are they?'

'They might be the people who abducted Goon,' Fatty said. 'They sound like Borovian names.'

'And then he says he must find the hideout,' Larry said. 'But I thought their hideout was that end cottage, number eight.' He handed the paper to Daisy who in turn read it and then passed it Pip.

'Your uncle said he was going to London,' Pip said, 'so perhaps this hideout is there, I mean he hasn't returned has he? So maybe they're holding him there, somewhere in London.'

'I thought of that,' Fatty said. 'And if that's the case, there's nothing we can do. We can hardly all go up to London chasing after spies.'

Pip handed the paper to Bets. She read it through and then frowned. 'It's strange that he's written it like that.'

'Like what?' asked Pip.

'Well the hideout is written with capitals at the beginning of each word,' she explained. 'The Hideout, as though it's a name, or something.'

Fatty took back the paper and looked at it. 'You know, Bets, I think you're right,' he said. 'If Uncle Harold was simply saying he must find the hideout, you know, the actual place where they're hiding, he wouldn't have put a capital in front of each word, a capital T for The, and a capital H for Hideout.'

'I don't understand what you mean,' Pip said.

'What Bets means, Pip,' Fatty said with a grin,' is that The Hideout might be the name of an actual place, like a house.'

'That would be an odd name for a house,' Eunice said. 'I've never heard of one with a name like that before.'

'Neither have I,' Fatty admitted,' but that doesn't mean to say there isn't one. Modern people might give their house a name like that rather than old fashioned names like The Ivies or The Hollies.'

'That brings back memories,' Bets said, recalling a previous adventure they had shared involving house names.

'Don't you think you ought to tell Mr Johns, Fatty?' Daisy said.

'Yes, I think you're right, Daisy,' Fatty said thoughtfully. 'After all, he's in a much stronger position to find this place, if it exists, than we are. And he gave me his telephone number in case I had any news to pass on, so I'll go and call him now.'

Leaving the others in the shed, Fatty went back up to the house. Firstly, he checked that the coast was clear, he did not want Jane or Cook to overhear him. Luckily, they were chatting in the kitchen with the door closed. He picked up the telephone receiver and dialled the number Mr Johns had written down. He was surprised to hear a continuous tone at the other end of the line. He dialled the number again, and again heard the continuous tone. Fatty was puzzled as he should be hearing the ringing tone. He tried once more without success and then phoned the operator. The operator tried the number and then reported back that there was a fault with the line, probably caused by snow bringing down some of the telephone wires. She assured Fatty that G.P.O. engineers would investigate the problem and correct it as soon as possible.

'I'll try Superintendent Jenks, then,' he thought and dialled the number he knew by heart.

'I'm afraid Superintendent Jenks is at a conference,' Fatty was told. 'He should be back sometime later today. Is there anything I can help you with?' asked the policeman at the other end of the line.

Fatty thought for a moment. 'No, I'll ring again later,' he said. 'Should he return earlier, can you tell him Frederick Trotteville would like to speak to him, he has my number?'

Fatty put down the receiver and returned to the shed. Everyone looked up at him as he entered.

'What did he say?' asked Larry.

'Nothing,' Fatty replied, 'I didn't speak to him. It seems the phone lines are down because of the snow. I also tried phoning the Super, but he's away at a conference.'

'Then there's only one thing for it,' Larry said. 'We'll have to investigate this ourselves.'

'I don't know,' Fatty said sitting down and taking a biscuit. 'This is dangerous business, and, as Mr Johns said, we should leave it to the professionals.'

'But we could try and find out if there's a house around here called The Hideout,' Eunice said. 'That wouldn't be dangerous.'

'Yes, and then as soon as the phone lines are up and running again, you can tell Mr Johns exactly where this place is,' Larry said. 'It'll save a lot of time, if we can find it.'

Fatty nodded slowly. 'Yes Larry, you're right, of course,' he said.

'So where shall we start, then?' asked Eunice enthusiastically.

They all looked at each other. 'We could ask the postman,' suggested Bets.

'It's too late today,' said Pip. 'He must have finished his afternoon delivery.'

'Tomorrow, then,' Bets said.

'That's all well and good,' Eunice said. 'But we need to do something straight away, not have to wait till tomorrow.'

'What about the library,' Daisy suggested. 'Mrs Sharple may know, I mean it's a very unusual name for a house.'

Fatty sat gazing out of the window. 'It's so unusual, I'm surprised we haven't heard of it, if it's in Peterswood,' he said still looking out into the snow-covered garden.

'So you don't think it's in Peterswood, then?' Larry said

'I don't know what I think, Larry,' Fatty said despondently and sighed. 'You know, I was convinced that Uncle had stolen those keys and they hadn't been stolen at all. That's what's called a red herring.'

'But if you hadn't thought that,' Larry said, 'we would never have found that cottage in Artisan Passage, so it wasn't a wild goose chase.'

'Look, why don't Bets and I go to the library and ask if anyone knows of a house called The Hideout?' Pip suggested.

Fatty grinned at him. 'I tell you what, we'll all go,' he said perking up. 'But first we can go to the dairy and have something nice to eat. My treat. My brain's not working at its best and that means I'm probably hungry.'

They went back up to the house and Fatty went inside to pick up Buster's lead. Mrs Trotteville was in the hall.

'Ah, there you are Frederick,' she said. 'I promised to collect this from the engravers for old Mrs Hartley whilst I was in Maidenhead.' She held up a box. 'And I really can't face taking it all the way round to her myself, I'm exhausted. So I wondered if you would deliver it for me? It's a christening present and she's rather keen to have it.'

'Yes, of course, Mother,' Fatty said. 'Where does she live?'

'Her house faces onto the river. It's past the old lodge, you know, just along from the boat-builder's yard,' she explained. 'It's called The Dene.'

'Oh yes, I know,' Fatty said taking the box. 'We're on our way to the dairy, but the others can go on and I'll scoot along there first. It shouldn't take me more than twenty minutes.'

He rejoined the others who were waiting outside by the front gate.

'You go on to the dairy and order something nice,' Fatty said handing Larry a ten shilling note, 'and I'll be along once I've delivered this parcel to Mrs Hartley at The Dene, down on the river. Mother's feeling too tired. I'll only be about twenty minutes,' he added.

'I'll come with you, Frederick,' Eunice said immediately. She did not like the idea of being without Fatty and having to make awkward conversation with the rest. 'I'll enjoy a brisk walk in the snow.'

Just then they heard a sound like a police whistle' which made Buster bark excitedly.

'That's odd,' Larry said. 'I wonder what that was?'

They all looked around, but could see nothing unusual.

'Oh well, better get going,' Fatty said. 'See you shortly.'

They separated and Fatty, Eunice and Buster went down the lane towards the church. They cut through the churchyard and then followed the path that went through the old kissing gate between the garden of the Vicarage and the grounds of the hotel that Fatty and his parents had stayed in when they first came to Peterswood. They reached the river path and turned left, and immediately saw, moored along the riverbank, a large number of boats.

'The lock near Maidenhead must still be frozen,' Fatty said. 'So all these boats are stuck here until it thaws.'

They passed by the old lodge as it was called. It was actually an ancient boathouse that had once belonged to a manor that had long ago been demolished.

'The river was wider then,' Fatty explained. 'The embankment that supports the path we're walking on was created more than a hundred years ago, so now that the river's narrower the old boathouse lies some way back from it and people have more or less forgotten that it ever was a boathouse.'

Eunice nodded her head enthusiastically. She enjoyed hearing about the history of places.

They passed the boat builder's yard and came to a high red brick wall with a tall wrought iron gate set into it. 'Here we are,' Fatty said. 'Whilst I drop this parcel off, could you wait here with Buster? If memory serves, Mrs Hartley owns a rather aggressive Welsh Corgi and I don't want a fight to break out between the two dogs.' He handed over Buster's lead. 'Best put him on this in case he tries to follow me. I think he'll be able to get under this gate.'

Eunice clipped the lead on Buster's collar and Fatty went through the gate, disappearing up a path that ran between rows of very high rhododendrons that were almost bent double under the weight of the snow that covered them.

'Come on, Buster,' Eunice said, 'let's walk along the river path a way, it's far too cold to stand here waiting.'

Mooring posts were set in the ground at regular intervals and at each a boat was tied. Some were sleek launches, whilst others were quaint, gaily painted canal boats. Some of the boats were well looked after, whilst others had clearly seen better days and looked rather sad and uncared for. Eunice read their names as she walked along. 'Dauntless', 'Contessa', 'Kingfisher', 'Lucky Penny', 'The Hideout'...

She stopped dead in her tracks, for there, moored at the riverbank just ahead of her, was a large blue and white boat, and on its side was painted the name, 'The Hideout'.

She felt her face flush with excitement and turned to look back along the path for Fatty, but he had not yet reappeared.

Just then, she heard a man cough and saw someone emerge onto the deck at the stern of the boat. He was wearing a thick coat and a cap and a pair of binoculars were strung around his neck. He looked at Eunice and she immediately turned and quickly walked back the way she had come. Just then Fatty appeared on the river path and waved to her. She rushed up to him.

He could see straight away that something had happened. 'What on Earth's the matter?' he asked.

'It's there,' she said in a loud whisper.

'What is?' Fatty said. 'And why are you whispering?'

'The Hideout,' Eunice said excitedly, 'it's a boat. It's over there, look.'

Fatty looked along the line of boats. 'Are you telling me that one of these boats is called The Hideout?' he asked incredulously.

'Yes, that's exactly what I'm telling you,' Eunice replied looking over her shoulder. 'It's the blue and white one.'

Fatty could hardly believe this bit of good luck. Could Eunice really have found what they were looking for? He looked at the blue and white boat moored twenty yards away and wondered whether Uncle Harold was a prisoner on board.

'Look, I've got an idea,' Fatty said quickly. 'We'll walk along the path until we're by the boat and then I'll pretend to slip up on the ice and hurt my ankle. You go on board and ask if they can look after me whilst you get a doctor. That'll give me an opportunity to have a look at the boat and the people on it. And I'll make as much noise as possible, so that if Uncle Harold is being held on board, he might hear me.'

Eunice gave Fatty a weak smile and nodded. 'All right,' she said putting on a very brave face. 'Do you think your uncle is being held prisoner on it?'

'I think, it's a strong possibility, yes,' Fatty said. He looked at Eunice and gave her a reassuring wink. 'Come on, old thing,' he said, 'time to show me what a good actress you are.'

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