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 25: The Mystery is Solved

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As dogs were not allowed in the stamp fair, Fatty took Buster home before immediately returning to the High Street where he found Bets waiting for him outside the village hall.

When they were inside, Fatty quietly told her everything Boris had said. Bets laughed. 'Oh, surely he's just made that up,' she said. 'What would someone with a gun be doing in a stamp fair?'

Fatty shook his head slowly. 'I don't know, Bets,' he said. 'But he seemed to be on the level. I don't think he was making it up.'

They began to browse around the various display boards and stands. There were stamps from all corners of the world. Some were from countries that Bets had never heard of. Some of the stamps were old and others modern with brightly coloured birds and flowers on them. Some commemorated important events and some just seemed to be pretty. There was even a stand with a display of stamps from Borovia, which both Fatty and Bets were drawn to.

'These are rather dull, aren't they?' Bets said. 'I like stamps that have pictures on them like castles or animals, or are unusual shapes like triangles.'

'I know what you mean,' Fatty said. 'I like stamps that have misprints on them, you know, when something goes wrong in the printing process, and stamps like that can be very valuable to a collector. I have a few misprints in my collection.'

Fatty left Bets and wandered off to look at some of the stalls around the edges of the hall where people were selling stamps. He found nothing that took his interest, however, and looking round for Bets, noticed she was still standing in front the Borovian display.

'I thought you said these were dull,' he said rejoining her.

Bets gave a little laugh. 'Well, you know what you said about misprints, I think this one here is a misprint, look.'

She pointed at a stamp on the display board. It was identical to the stamp that had been on the burned and torn envelope they had found in the old cottage. 'Look,' she said. 'See the crown above the king's head? Well there's a big pearl in the centre of it and on the stamp we found, the pearl is white, but here it's black.'

Fatty peered at the stamp. 'Crumbs, Bets,' he said, 'You've got keen eyesight.' He looked very closely and then nodded his head. 'I think you might be right. I tell you what, I'll pop home and get the other stamp then we can compare them. You wait here, I'll only be ten minutes.'

'And remember to bring a magnifying glass,' Bets called after him.

Fatty was true to his word and within ten minutes he was back with the stamp and a magnifying glass.

'Now then,' he said holding the stamp on the piece of envelope up against the one on the display board and examining them both through the magnifying glass. 'You're right, Bets,' he said, 'the pearl in this stamp is definitely black whereas it should be white.' He turned and smiled at her. 'It's certainly a misprint.'

'It doesn't say it is, though,' Bets said. 'Whereas other misprints are clearly labelled.'

'I'll just go and ask someone about this particular display,' Fatty said and disappeared to the back of the hall, returning a couple of minutes later with an elderly gentleman whom he introduced to Bets as Mr Simmons.

'Ah yes,' Mr Simmons said, 'the Borovian display. And you say there is a misprint on one of the stamps that has been missed?'

'Yes, there,' Fatty said pointing it out. 'Take my magnifying glass, you'll see it better.'

Mr Simmons examined the stamp and then looked at the one Fatty had brought with him.

'Yes, young man, there's definitely something unusual about this stamp, an unrecorded misprint, I'll make a note of it' he said handing the magnifying glass back. 'This display will be returning to Borovia when the fair closes.'

'Really?' Fatty said. 'When will that be?'

'Well, we had a request to return it early,' Mr Simmons said, 'the day before yesterday I think it was, but I couldn't do that.' He shook his head. 'No, no this will be returned tomorrow, to send it earlier would have created a gap in our display.'

'Thank you,' Fatty said and took Bets by the arm. 'Come on,' he said, 'we're going to the library.'

With Bets in tow, Fatty sped off to the library where he immediately buried his face in a very fat stamp catalogue. Then having finished with that and appearing quite satisfied with what he had read, he went to another section of the library and selected an equally fat book, which he again scrutinised carefully.

After a while, he looked up at Bets and gave her a big grin. 'Don't look so puzzled,' he said, 'it's just that I have a theory that may well solve the mystery.'

'So you know how they got the secrets out of the country?' Bets said excitedly.

Fatty put his finger to his lips. 'Could be,' he said and carried the book over to Mrs Sharple, the librarian, to get it stamped.

'So, you've developed yet another new interest have you, Frederick?' Mrs Sharple said glancing at the book's cover.

'Yes,' Fatty said with a smile, 'it developed about ten minutes ago.'

'Look, Bets, you go home and have your lunch,' Fatty said when they got outside, 'and I'll call you this afternoon when I've done a bit of reading and made an important telephone call.'

'All right, Fatty,' she said. 'I like it when you go all mysterious, it means we're getting to the end of the mystery.'

'Well, I hope so, Bets,' Fatty said as they parted.

When he got home, he found Uncle Harold in the hall looking at the barometer. 'Hello, Fred, you're just in time for lunch,' he said.

'Good,' Fatty said. 'I'm starving. I see you've been looking at the weather, any improvement on the way?'

'No, doesn't look like it,' Uncle Harold said.

'I just have to make a telephone call, Uncle,' Fatty said, 'and then I'll join you in the dining room.'

He waited until his uncle had gone into the dining room and closed the door and then called Superintendent Jenks.

'Frederick, how can I help you?' came the Superintendent's cheerful voice.

'Good afternoon, Sir,' Fatty said. 'I wonder if it's possible for you to come over to Peterswood this evening?'

'Can I assume there have been some developments in the case, then?' the Superintendent asked.

'Well, I think so, Sir,' Fatty said. 'I may be wrong, but I think I know where the missing secret documents are.'

'Really?' the Superintendent exclaimed.

'Yes, so I wondered if you could meet me in the village hall at five-thirty?' Fatty said.

'Well, of course, Frederick, I know you well enough to know that you wouldn't be calling me to Peterswood unless you had something of significance to share with me,' Superintendent Jenks said.

'Thank you, Sir, and is it also possible for you to bring Mr Johns, Mr Goon and young Boris?' Fatty asked.

'Mr Johns is abroad on another assignment,' the Superintendent said, 'but I can certainly pick up Goon and the boy on my way.'

'Thank you very much, Sir, I'll see you later,' Fatty said. He replaced the receiver and smiled to himself.

'And how have you been spending your morning? Uncle Harold asked as Fatty went into the dining room.

'Bets and I had a shufty at the stamp fair,' Fatty said sitting at the dining table. 'One or two interesting exhibits.'

'Really?' said Uncle Harold sitting down opposite Fatty. 'Can't say I noticed anything interesting when I looked round it.'

'Ah, but you didn't have Bets with you, Uncle, and that makes all the difference,' Fatty said.

'Does it really?' Uncle Harold said raising his eyebrows. 'Why, is she an expert on philately?' he asked doubtfully.

'No, but she's got very keen eyesight, has our Bets, which is much more useful, let me tell you,' Fatty said just as Jane arrived with lunch. 'Steak and kidney pudding, my favourite,' he exclaimed and looked at Jane with a wide grin on his face. 'Tell Cookie I'll be in later to give her a big hug.'

'Very well, I'll let her know,' Jane said with a laugh.

Over the meal, Fatty told Uncle Harold that he had some ideas about the stolen secret documents and that he had arranged for the Superintendent to meet him at the village hall later.

'I'll phone the others after lunch,' Fatty said. 'And you'll come, of course.'

'Wild horses couldn't keep me away,' Uncle Harold said with a laugh. 'Although I'm completely intrigued, I won't ask any questions now, I'll try to contain my curiosity until you reveal the solution this evening, Sherlock.'

When their meal was finished and Fatty had enjoyed his last spoonful of bread and butter pudding, he went into the hall and telephoned Larry and Daisy and then Pip and Bets to ask them to meet him in the village hall at five-thirty.

'Ooh, Fatty,' Bets exclaimed excitedly, 'does this mean you solved it?'

'Wait and see, Bets,' Fatty said. 'Wait and see.'

After making his telephone calls, Fatty disappeared into his shed for half and hour and then popped into the village as there was something he needed to arrange that simply couldn't be put off.

At about four o'clock, Eunice and her father returned from their shopping trip laden with parcels.

'Frederick,' she exclaimed flopping down onto the sofa, 'Maidenhead was absolutely heaving. Honestly, it was like an ants' nest.'

'On the contrary,' Professor Tolling interjected, 'there is complete order in an ants' nest. The crowds in Maidenhead, on the other hand, more closely resembled a flock of headless chickens running here, there and everywhere without any apparent purpose.'

Just then, Uncle Harold came into the room. 'You two look like you could do with a cup of tea,' he said. 'I heard you come in and I've asked Jane to organize it.'

'That would be wonderful,' Eunice said kicking off her shoes and warming her toes in front of fire.

'Oh and Eunice,' Fatty said, 'I've arranged for everyone to be in the village hall this evening at five-thirty.'

'Whatever for?' she asked.

'Oh, I might just have solved the mystery of the stolen documents, that's all,' he said breezily.

'You mean you know how they were smuggled out of the country?' she asked. 'That's jolly clever of you, how was it done, do tell?'

Fatty grinned.

'I think Fred is going to keep mum until this evening, Eunice,' Uncle Harold said. 'If he has indeed worked out this mystery, and I have no doubt that he has, then he deserves his moment of triumph.'

'Well put, Uncle,' Fatty said.

Jane brought in a tray of tea and sandwiches for Eunice and her father and Fatty got the chess board out and played a game with his uncle.

At five – fifteen, Fatty, Eunice and Uncle Harold put on their coats and scarves to set off for the village hall. Professor Tolling remained behind saying that he had to complete an important article. 'A new beetle has been discovered in Central America,' he said, 'and I have been privileged to see all the information about it and am writing a report for The Beetle Gazette. I have to finish it today as the deadline is tomorrow, and I've already wasted half the day struggling round the shops in Maidenhead buying pointless knick-knacks.'

Fatty winked at Eunice and she grinned back and shook her head. Nothing was more important to her father than beetles! She then noticed that Fatty had his satchel over his shoulder. 'What's in the bag?' she asked.

'Oh, just a piece of vital equipment, that's all,' Fatty said mysteriously.

When they arrived at the village hall, Larry, Daisy, Pip and Bets were waiting for them outside.

'Has the Super arrived yet?' Fatty asked.

'No, we're the only ones here, so far,' Larry said, 'and we're freezing. Do you think we can go inside, only the door seems to be locked and we didn't like to knock until you arrived.'

Fatty immediately went up to the door and knocked on it loudly, it was opened by Mr Simmons, who smiled broadly when he saw Fatty.

'Ah, Frederick, good, good, come in, come in. I see you have your friends with you, please do all come in and get out of the cold,' he said. When they had all entered he looked at them and frowned slightly. 'No Superintendent Jenks,' he said. 'I thought you said...'

But before he could finish his sentence, they all heard the sound of a car pulling up outside. 'Ah, that'll be him, I expect,' Mr Simmons said opening the door again. And sure enough, Superintendent Jenks appeared followed by Mr Goon and a rather worried looking Boris.

Everyone shook hands and when the formalities were done with, the Superintendent looked at Fatty. 'Well, Frederick, I believe you have some information for us.'

'Yes, Sir, I do, ' Fatty said. 'The first thing I must say, however, is that I am not the person who solved this mystery. That was the work of the two youngest people here, Bets and Boris.'

Goon looked down at Boris and nudged him with his knee. 'What have you been up to?' he said. 'How have you managed to solve anything, you've barely worked out how to get up in the morning?'

Fatty continued: 'After the chase on the river and the capture of the two scientists and the Borovian agents,' he said, 'I was visited by the Superintendent who informed me that one of the agents had said the secret documents will get out of the country, not had got out, which meant they were still in the country and not on their way to Borovia. But if they were still in the country, then who would get them out and how? I thought about this a long time, but had absolutely nothing to go on and had more or less given up. That is, until I met young Boris.' Everyone looked at Boris and he blushed violently. 'Boris told me that he had sneaked into the stamp fair one evening when it was meant to be closed.' Fatty looked at Mr Simmons. 'I believe there's a problem with the lock on the front door.'

'Oh, yes, there is,' Mr Simmons confirmed. 'The lock was very old and damaged and has since been replaced.'

'Boris told me that whilst he was in the village hall, this very building we are presently standing in,' Fatty said with a hint of drama in his tone, 'someone came in and did something to one of the exhibits. This person, Boris tells me, was armed with a gun.'

'With a gun?' Mr Goon exclaimed. 'You should have told me about this,' he added.

'I did tell you, Mr Goon, but I don't think you believed me. I told you when we were locked up in that cellar,' Boris said and then rubbed his arm as Mr goon nudged him sharply with his knee.

'What this person was doing,' Fatty continued, 'Boris couldn't say because it was too dark and he was frightened of being discovered, but I think that whatever it was, was crucial to this case.' He took a breath. 'Shortly after Boris told me all this, I looked around the stamp fair with Bets, and it was during this visit, earlier today, that Bets noticed something strange.' He looked at Bets and smiled. 'Her keen eyesight noticed that there was something wrong with one of the stamps in the Borovian display. She pointed out to me that the pearl in the King's crown should have been white but was in fact black and to confirm this we compared it to an exact same type of stamp I had in my possession.'

'I thought all this was about some missing documents,' Goon said with a laugh, 'not stamps.'

'It is, Mr Goon,' Fatty said. 'But sometimes things are not what they seem. You see, I knew that one of the scientists was an expert in the field of revolutionary photographic research. I also knew that although there is evidence that many secret documents had been disturbed, they had not in fact been stolen. I deduced therefore that it was likely they had been removed, photographed and replaced. I checked up on microphotography in the library and then came back to the stamp fair this afternoon and spoke to Mr Simmons, explaining to him my ideas and asking his permission to examine the stamp more closely. In the office at the back of the hall, I looked at the stamp through this.' He opened his satchel and pulled out a small microscope. 'And low and behold the black pearl in the King's crown is not a misprint, but is in fact a microdot.'

'A what?' Goon asked.

'A microdot, Mr Goon, is a tiny photograph,' Fatty explained, 'so tiny that it can pass undetected yet contains upon its surface masses of information. In this case over one hundred pages of top-secret documents and blueprints. This is how they were going to get the information out of the country. It was an insurance against them being caught. The scientists were valuable, but so was this information and by separating them it insured that at least one would get to Borovia. I think Sherlock Holmes said that the best place to conceal something is in plain sight of everyone and that is exactly what they did, although I doubt they had ever heard of Sherlock Holmes.'

'And which stamp is it, Frederick?' Superintendent Jenks asked.

'I asked Mr Simmons to remove it from the display and keep it safe,' Fatty said and Mr Simmons took out his wallet and carefully removed the stamp with a pair of philatelic tweezers.

'If you'd care to place it under the microscope, perhaps the Superintendent would like to examine it?' Fatty said.

Mr Simmons carefully placed the stamp under the microscope and handed it to the Superintendent who looked through the eyepiece. A wide grin spread across his face. 'My word, Frederick, this is quite extraordinary,' he said. He then handed the microscope to Uncle Harold who also looked down it at the stamp.

Mr Goon held out his hand for the microscope, but before he could grab it, the Superintendent took it from Uncle Harold and removed the stamp, placing it in his wallet for safekeeping. Goon gave a huff and scowled round at everyone, but nobody was taking any notice of him.

The Superintendent shook Fatty by the hand. 'Well, done Frederick,' he said. 'You've just prevented the enemies of our country getting hold of some very sensitive information.' He turned to the other Find Outers and Eunice. 'And you have all lived up to your reputation as detectives and helped solve a very perplexing mystery and I congratulate you all. Well done Find Outers and Eunice and I hope you will pass on my words to Buster when you see him.' He turned to Goon. 'And thank you also, Constable Goon for all your sterling work.'

At this the Find Outers looked at each other but just about managed not to laugh.

Lastly, the Superintendent looked at Boris. 'And thank you, also, Boris, because without you Frederick would not have been able to solve this case. As such, I think you deserve a reward. What would you like?'

Boris thought for just a couple of seconds. 'A whistle, like the one Mr Goon has,' he said. 'A real police whistle.'

The Superintendent smiled. 'Of course you shall have a police whistle, young man,' he said, 'and I'll make sure it's engraved with your name.'

Boris could barely contain his excitement. He beamed around at everyone. 'Cor, thanks Mister,' he managed to say.

Goon immediately looked down and once again nudged him sharply with his knee. 'Show some respect,' he said.

But Boris was oblivious to the nudge. 'That'll be the best Christmas present I've ever had,' he said.

And so it was.

The End

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