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 23: Escape

Back | Index | Next

For at least five minutes, neither, Fatty, Eunice, or Uncle Harold spoke. Buster was curled up on the floor asleep, totally oblivious to the plight in which they all found themselves. He was with his beloved master and nothing else mattered.

Suddenly, the boat's engine started up and they felt the it move off from its mooring. There was a tiny porthole window in the cabin and Fatty looked through it.

'They're turning the boat,' he said over his shoulder. 'They're taking it upriver.' He looked at his uncle. 'You were right.'

Uncle Harold shook his head. 'You know, Fred,' he said, 'I'm not a proper spy or anything. I feel so inadequate, just an amateur really, and I've made a complete pig's ear out of everything.'

Fatty put his hand on his uncle's shoulder. 'Never say die, Uncle,' he said brightly. 'Now, let's have a look at this lock.'

He knelt down at the door and put his eye to the keyhole. 'Hmm, that's interesting,' he said. 'I do believe they've left the key in the lock.'

'Why is that interesting?' Eunice asked. 'It's on the other side of the door.'

'At the moment it is,' Fatty said, and ran his hand along the bottom of the door. 'Not much of a gap,' he muttered.

Eunice got down on her knees next to him. 'Not much of a gap for what?' she asked.

'Well, I have been known to escape from locked rooms,' Fatty said sounding a lot more confidant than he actually felt.

'Well, you can't get under the door,' Eunice said frowning. 'How do you mean?'

'You mean you're going to try to push the key out?' Uncle Harold said.

'That's the idea Uncle, yes,' Fatty said looking around the cabin. 'Anything in here to push under the door, a newspaper or magazine, anything like that?'

All three of them searched the cabin, but after five minutes found nothing that was suitable.

'That's a pity,' Fatty said sitting down on the bunk. 'I always used to carry a folded up sheet of newspaper with me for situations like this, but I've got out of the habit of it lately. Serves me right.'

'I have this,' Eunice said suddenly. 'It's my handkerchief.'

'No good, I'm afraid,' Fatty said. 'We need something stiff, like paper, so that it can be pushed under the door.'

'But this is stiff,' Eunice said holding it out. 'It's been rather too heavily starched, look.' She handed it to Fatty.

He opened up the folded white handkerchief, it was very large and made of starched linen, very practical, like everything about Eunice, it seemed.

'It might work,' Fatty said kneeling down again by the door. He very carefully pushed the handkerchief through the gap under the door and then withdrew it again quickly. 'If we're lucky, it'll work,' he said looking at Eunice and Uncle Harold. 'But if the key bounces when it falls, we may lose it.'

Uncle Harold looked through the porthole. 'It's getting dark outside,' he said, and just then the light in the cabin dimmed to a mere glimmer. 'They've dimmed all the lights to avoid being seen,' he said.

'Do you know if there's any other way up onto the deck?' Fatty asked his uncle, 'other than going up those steps at the stern?'

'Yes, there's some more steps at the bow, more like a ladder, really, that can be withdrawn,' Uncle Harold said. 'They're just a little way along from this cabin. I think they're used for servicing the pumps or something. Sorry to be so vague, but I'm not an expert on river boats.'

'What do we do when we get out of the cabin?' Eunice asked.

'Well if we can get out of this cabin and up on deck, we'll stand a much better chance, all round,' Uncle Harold said. 'We can wait for our chance and see what happens.'

'They'll see us, though,' Eunice said. 'We'll be at the front of the boat and they'll see us.'

'They've turned the lights out, and it's dark outside now,' Uncle Harold said. 'And from what I remember there are some coils of rope and life rings and things piled up that'll provide us with some cover.' He looked at Eunice. 'It's got to be worth a try, and if we keep our heads down and lie flat, we might be all right. Then as soon as we moor somewhere, which we're going to have to do before too long, we can make a break for it.'

'They'll think we're locked in this cabin and won't be expecting us to be on deck,' Fatty said.

'But if they come down to the front of the boat, they'll find us, there'll be nowhere for us to hide,' Eunice said.

'Then we'll have to hope they don't,' Uncle Harold said.

'And anyway,' Fatty added, 'to get to the bow of the boat they'd have to risk walking along the gunwale in the dark. So, unless it's really important, I doubt they'll risk doing that.'

'What's the gunwale? Eunice asked.

'It's the top of the sides of the boat and it's very narrow as it runs past the bridge, just a few inches on either side and as it's now freezing again, it's probably extremely slippery,' Fatty explained. 'They won't come that way. But,' he added, 'all these plans are completely hypothetical, unless I can get hold of that key.'

He listened at the door to see if he could hear any movement outside, but it was all quiet. Evidently, the four men were up at the stern and on the bridge. Very carefully, he fed the opened up handkerchief under the door making sure it was under the keyhole. Then, when he was satisfied it was in position and there was only a thin strip of it visible from his side of the door, he took a thin pencil from his pocket and began to gently push it into the keyhole. Very slowly, he managed to dislodge the key until all of a sudden they heard it drop. Both Uncle Harold and Eunice had now joined Fatty on their knees at the door.

'Did it land on the handkerchief?' Eunice asked excitedly.

Fatty slowly dragged the handkerchief towards him. 'Yes, it's on the handkerchief, I can feel its weight,' he said. 'But will it go under the door?'

Slowly, he pulled the handkerchief under the door until a part of the key became visible. Using his pencil, he tried to poke and push the key through the gap, but it was just too fat to slide under. 'This is ridiculous,' Fatty said, 'it won't go under, it's just a tiny bit too big.'

Eunice suddenly stood up and taking hold of the door handle with both hands pulled upwards with all her strength. The door gave on its hinges just enough for Fatty to pull the key through.

'Crumbs, Eunice,' Fatty said standing up with the precious key in his hand, 'I didn't realise you were so strong.'

'Well done both of you,' Uncle Harold said. 'Things are moving quickly, Fred.'

'They certainly are, Uncle,' Fatty said.

'We need to act sooner rather than later,' Uncle Harold said urgently. 'We must get out of this cabin before they notice the key's missing. Remember, they're armed.'

Eunice had her ear to the door. 'I think it's all clear outside,' she said. 'I can't hear anyone in the corridor.'

'Good,' Fatty said. 'Now, Eunice, can you put Buster on the lead?' He placed the key in the lock and turned it, opening the door just enough to see up the corridor towards the steps at the stern. The boat was in virtual darkness, and no one was about.

'Uncle, you lead the way,' Fatty whispered, stepping aside.

Uncle Harold cautiously stepped out of the cabin and turned left towards the bow of the boat. Eunice followed with Buster and lastly Fatty who carefully locked the cabin door behind them and put the key in his pocket.

Uncle Harold climbed up a short ladder that went up to a hatch, which he carefully raised and looked out. Good, it was very dark outside as there was no moon and they were passing along a particularly quiet stretch of the river with only fields on either side. He looked towards the small bridge of the boat and could just make out the shapes of the men faintly illuminated. Keeping as flat to the deck as possible, he climbed out and then whispered to Eunice to hand Buster up to him, which she did before climbing out herself. Both she and Uncle Harold were lying flat on the deck behind a couple of large coils of rope and some life rings. These things, they hoped, would shield them from the view of the men on the bridge. Fatty climbed out last and then pulled the ladder up and laid it on the deck beside them before closing the hatch and bolting it shut.

It was very cold and the deck felt icy. The wind blowing directly on them seemed to cut through their coats and freeze them to the marrow.

'It's impossible to see how close we are to the shore,' Fatty said. 'But it can't be far.'

'You're not going to suggest we swim for it, I hope,' Uncle Harold said.

'Well, I'm used to cold baths at school,' Fatty said. 'And I'm a strong swimmer, I'm sure I could do it and then I could get help.'

Uncle Harold shook his head. 'It's very brave of you to offer, Fred,' he said,' but I really can't allow you to take such a risk. You wouldn't last five minutes in that freezing water and even if you made it to the bank, I can't see any houses close by and you'd have to walk a long way in the snow, dripping wet. You'd freeze solid.'

Fatty shrugged. 'All right, Uncle,' he said. 'But if push comes to shove, we may not have a choice.'

'Then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it,' Uncle Harold replied.

They clung on to the deck in the freezing cold for some time. 'I never realised this part of the river is so deserted,' Fatty said. 'There's hardly any lights to be seen anywhere.'

Just as he had finished speaking the boat suddenly swerved and they all slid across the deck.

Eunice squealed. 'Buster's gone over the side,' she yelled and immediately got up and pulled him back onto the deck as he had still been on the lead.

'Is he all right?' Fatty asked feeling the little Scottie all over. 'Is his neck all right?' He felt all around Buster's neck, but he did not appear to be injured. 'Tough neck he's got,' Fatty said, relieved that his precious Buster was unharmed. The little Scottie seemed pleased by all the attention he was suddenly receiving from his master and began to lick Fatty's face.

Suddenly a beam of light shone onto them from the bridge. They crouched down as much as possible behind the ropes and life rings. Evidently someone on the bridge had seen some movement at the bow. Then, there was the sound of shouting below deck and of a door being broken down.

'They know we've got out of the cabin,' Uncle Harold said. 'This could get bad. Keep your heads down.'

'Will they use their gun?' Eunice asked.

'They certainly don't want to let the whole world know where they are, so possibly not,' Uncle Harold said.

Just then, there came a hammering on the hatch just next to them. 'Good job I pulled up the ladder after us,' Fatty thought.

'You can't stay there forever,' someone shouted, it sounded like Anton.

'Don't reply,' Uncle Harold said urgently. 'Don't say anything.'

'Very well, then,' Anton shouted, 'we shall make it uncomfortable for you.'

'Why can't they just go back to Borovia or wherever it is they want to go and leave us alone?' Eunice said. 'Why do we matter so much?'

'It's me they want to get rid of,' Uncle Harold said. 'I know too much about their organization.'

The boat suddenly swerved first one way and then the other. Fatty, Uncle Harold and Eunice found themselves sliding from one side of the narrow bow to the other with freezing spray soaking them all the time. They grabbed hold of anything they could to prevent themselves from slipping overboard.

'This is terrible,' Eunice called out. She was clinging to the handle of the hatch. 'I can't hold on for much longer, my hand's becoming numb with the cold.'

Fatty was feeling desperate. He was holding on to Buster with one hand and a small rail that ran along part of the gunwale with the other.

Suddenly a shot rang out and Eunice screamed. It had come from below deck and had gone straight up through the hatch cover. She let go of the handle and immediately slid sideways towards the edge of the deck. Uncle Harold just managed to grab hold of her and pull her back. Another shot rang out, again through the hatch cover. Buster was barking hysterically and Fatty had a job holding on to him.

'Have you had enough yet?' Anton called from the bridge.

'What shall we do, Uncle?' Fatty said desperately trying to calm Buster. 'We can't keep this up indefinitely.'

Uncle Harold had no time to reply before they were all suddenly illuminated in the beam of a searchlight.

'Cut your engine and prepare to be boarded,' a voice blared out through some kind of loudspeaker. 'Don't try anything foolish,' it continued. 'Cut your engine now.'

'Crumbs, Uncle,' Fatty said, 'is that a police launch?'

'Sounds like it, yes,' Uncle Harold said. 'Hold on tight, though. This bunch won't give up without a fight.'

He was right, for just then the boat accelerated, turned in a wide arc and sped off in the opposite direction. Eunice had her eyes tight shut and felt as though she were on a particularly horrible ride at the fair, or trapped in a nightmare from which she desperately wanted to wake.

They were now gathering speed swerving from side to side, avoiding the searchlight. There was the crack of a gunshot, followed by another and yet another.

'Hold on to me, I'm slipping,' Eunice screamed above the roar of the boat's engine.

Uncle Harold took hold of her belt and held it tightly.

And then, the boat gave a sharp curve to port and crashed into the riverbank. It reared up at the stern and then smashed down into the water. Uncle Harold was thrown onto the bank where he landed in some bushes and Eunice landed close by in a snowdrift. Unfortunately, both Fatty and Buster were catapulted into the freezing river. All the air was knocked out of Fatty's lungs and even though he was a strong swimmer, his heavy coat soaked up the water and weighed him down. He struggled around and just managed to grab the branch of a riverside willow. His whole body seemed to hurt with the shock of the freezing water and he found it difficult to breath or grip the branch properly with his frozen hands. Buster managed to scramble out of the water and began barking at the river's edge. Uncle Harold climbed out of the bush he had landed in and called out to Fatty, he was quickly joined by Eunice, who was covered in snow. 'That's Buster's bark,' she said. 'Frederick's in trouble.'

They hurried to the riverbank. 'I can't see him,' Eunice yelled. 'Frederick, where are you?'

'Where are you, Fred?' Uncle Harold called.

'I'm here,' came Fatty's faint reply. 'I can't get out, I'm so cold and my coat's so heavy. Hurry... Uncle... I can't hold on... much longer.'

Just then the searchlight of the police launch shone directly onto the bank where Uncle Harold and Eunice were standing.

'There's a boy in the water,' Uncle Harold yelled. 'He can't get out.'

'Quickly, he's drowning,' added Eunice as she fought back tears. 'Quickly.'

The beam of light moved along the river's edge and picked out Fatty clinging to the branches of the willow and a distressed Buster running back and forth along the water's edge pawing at the snow but unable to reach his beloved master.

The police launch carefully nosed up to the riverbank.

'It's all right, Son, we've got you now,' a policeman said, and two burly policemen leaned over the side of the launch and dragged Fatty on board. 'We've got him,' the policeman called to Uncle Harold and Eunice. 'He's safe, now.'

'Thank God,' Eunice said and began to cry with relief. Uncle Harold put his arm around her.

'I think you're a very brave girl,' he said, giving her a squeeze. 'A very brave girl indeed.'

Back | Index | Next