They Made Their Mark: Chapter 7

In the reception area they found Dot sorting frantically through papers in a drawer that had been pulled out and placed on the desk. She looked up as Fatty entered with Larry close behind. Larry wanted to see the way his former Find-Outer Chief was going to handle what appeared to be a crisis.

"Mr. T, it's disappeared – the Woolf card! It's gone!"

A deep groan from Fatty. "The box?"

"Checked four times!"

"Floor?"

"Whole area gone over thoroughly."

"Windows?"

"All closed!"

"Door?"

"Shut since Mr. Larry arrived except for one courier entrance!"

"Express?"

"Yes!"

"That's OK. No visitors at all then?"

"None!"

"Rubbish?"

"Uncollected."

"Drawers, cupboards, safe, file cabinets?"

"All checked. After that I thought it must still be in the box so I checked every single card minutely but it wasn't there."

"Pockets checked? Backs and sides of desk and counter?"

"Of course, Mr. T."

"OK." Fatty relaxed and Dot looked so relieved that Larry found himself thinking that nothing much had happened at all.

Fatty looked at his secretary. "You've mislaid it then."

"Mr. T – it's vanished. I had it right by the typewriter so as I could copy some of the information. I put the box back in the safe as per instructions and when I returned to the desk it had gone!"

"Thank God it's only Hunt-the-Thimble now!" Fatty looked across at Larry. "Guess you're wondering what on earth we're talking about."

Larry shrugged, "Well, yes, I am but I don't want to pry into anything that's not my business. Obviously FTI stores some very sensitive information at times."

"Would you connect the name 'Woolf' with anything?" asked Fatty.

"Rings a bell, and I wonder if there might be a connection with something we have at the office. There's a fairly big story which was supposed to be scheduled for the city edition about a Woolf who may or may not be connected with some kind of racket."

"That's the one. We've been investigating the case and we have a card with some addresses and aliases on it which would seal the man's doom should he end up in court. We obtained the info at great expense and many hours of leg-work, so it MUST be found." Fatty turned to his secretary and addressed her with his confident and easy manner,

"I'll find it, Dot, don't you worry. Take a seat and relax,"

Dot sat down and pulled out another of the drawers to see if by chance the card was wedged down the side of it somewhere.

"Larry, it's one of the most sensitive items we have in the office. The card holds extremely vital evidence and it's the key to locking up a highly dangerous individual who, if allowed to go free, will be the cause of at least one person's death. He's a racketeer with connections on the Continent and it took some intricate detecting allied with a tiny amount of luck to come into possession of the evidence. It's a police case in which we've assisted and the card was to have been handed over this evening. The information you have at your office is a bare outline."

"How come you seem more relaxed now than when you heard about the disappearance?" Larry enquired. "I sensed that you thought the end of the world had come."

"As I said, Larry, it's Hunt-The-Thimble because I don't believe the card has left the office. If Dot states that she's checked everything then I don't need to check those places again, although I'll have a look at the cards of course"

Dot interjected, "Actually, I've just realized the back room window is open, Mr. T, but it couldn't have got out there unless it grew wings."

"Yeah, so all that needs to be done now is to figure out where the little blighter is. Here you are, Larry, you can witness what could be a good example of Pure Analysis, but have you any suggestions yourself?"

Larry looked both at Fatty and Dot and considered, "Misfiled perhaps. Can't think of any other reason for its disappearance."

Dot spoke. "No chance, Mr. Larry. I've checked all the likely places including the card file forwards and backwards. It's vanished into thin air!"

"Fetch the container," said Fatty. His secretary got up and went over to a solidly built safe in the corner. She opened it up and took out an old cardboard box. Larry observed that the edges were coming apart and it had obviously been repaired on countless occasions with tape. It looked as if it was an old shoe-box or perhaps it had contained envelopes in the past. Dot brought it over to a desk against the wall behind the counter and placed it there.

Fatty glanced at Larry as if weighing up how much he could tell him without compromising the integrity of FTI.

"That box," he said at last, "carries a fortune in intelligence – and you know why, Larry? Each card represents information which can convict and destroy peoples' lives and they're put into that cupboard each night with a special locking device that's connected to an alarm. A lot of people would give their right arm to get into that safe – that is if they knew what it contained. Some may have their suspicions but we're pretty discreet around here. OK. What next, Dot?"

Fatty went over to the desk and sat down whilst Dot took off the lid. Larry waited by the counter because whatever was in the box was presumably confidential but he could see from where he was that it was full of small cards.

Fatty pointed at it. "This container is one of those items that every office or home has somewhere – I came into this one years ago, Larry. It's an old envelope box I got off my Dad and when it was empty I filled it with little trinkets to keep a tallboy-drawer tidy and then I brought it to the office because it was just the right size for the standard information cards we use."

Larry smiled. "I have one as well, which I've used in my drawer since I was a lad – it's an old Havana Cigar box which contains pens and pencils. I haven't had to repair mine though because it's made of wood."

Fatty looked at Dot. "It's been a combined effort, hasn't it, because we're just too lazy to go out and buy a proper file-container."

"Quite right, Mr. T, and we should be ashamed of ourselves."

Larry addressed them both. "You know, if I could harness the power I have to make things disappear into thin air, I'd tour the world with a magical stage-act."

"Same here," added Dot. "I've made countless things vanish although nothing as important as that card. But have you noticed that the lost items almost always turn up – eventually?"

"Yes," Larry agreed. "Just the other day I knocked a pen-cap off my desk, and considering that Newton's Law of Gravity determines a falling object, irrespective of mass, will accelerate straight downwards, I was at a loss when it disappeared completely. Sure, it may have bounced a little to one side, but in this case I couldn't see it anywhere so I did much the same as you would have done – I explored the relevant section of floor and came up with nothing. I widened the search until I'd examined every inch of the surrounding area right to the walls but still I came up with nothing. I even looked down the sides of the chair although I'd heard the cap hit the floor. I couldn't begin to think where else it could have been."

"Where was it in the end?" asked Dot.

Larry looked at Fatty. "Could you deduce it?"

"I could make a fairly good attempt but I don't want to spoil your answer. Where did you find it?"

"Not on the floor of course. It was where I'd never thought of looking – it had obviously bounced a couple of times and I found it wedged in the corner of a rim that runs around the base of the desk. How did you do, Master Detective, sir?"

"I gathered something like that," answered Fatty. "Just a matter of elimination and common sense gained through a fairly similar experience."

"I'll believe you," said Larry with a grin.

"OK! Let me sit down her a few moments and think where that card might be."

Larry racked his brains to try and figure out the answer before anyone else could, but ideas wouldn't come. He looked over at Fatty whose face wore an intense look of concentration.

Dot leaned over and tapped Larry on the arm. "Don't disturb him Mr. Larry," she whispered. "He'll find it."

"How can you be so sure, Dot?"

"Because I know. Right now he's analysing what's happened and then he'll work out the solution." Dot seemed much more relaxed now that she'd gotten over the shock of losing Valuable Evidence. "The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that it's vanished through some fluke – one of those inexplicable things that happen every now and again."

"I hope that's what it is," said Larry. He looked at Fatty again and a picture formed in his mind from way back when he'd observed his friend with a similar expression. "The Great Brain"... where had he heard that phrase before? He could remember an occasion as if it had happened yesterday – the Find-Outers standing around some footprints that had miraculously appeared in the Trottevilles' garden near the shed where Fatty stored all his disguises. Pip had donned some large shoes and walked up and down on a patch of the garden in order to fool the others into thinking a thief with large feet had paid them a visit. When he had revealed his little jape the others had pummeled him until he cried for mercy. Fatty hadn't. He had stood still and the others had fallen silent at the picture of intense concentration on his face.

Dot whispered, "You know, Mr. Larry..." Larry gave a start and returned to the present. "You know, Mr. Larry, when a water main or something bursts in a plumbers' office, it's no problem because all the expertise is there to fix it. Same with an electrical hazard in an electrician's shop. In this office, if a mystery of some kind comes up such as now, we have the best resources available to fix the problem." Dot seemed glad to have someone to talk to.

Larry nodded, "I'm sure your faith is justified, Dot. I've witnessed some remarkable examples of detection by Fatty... incidentally, Frederick has always been Fatty to us Find-Outers so I hope you don't mind my sticking to tradition."

"Of course not, Mr. Larry."

Fatty, who had been flicking through the cards in the box, looked up from his post. "Dot, could you repeat whatever you did before you discovered the card was lost?"

"Certainly, Mr. T." His secretary got up, took the box, and placed it in the safe. She went over to her chair and sat down, then got up.

"This is how it goes. I went over to the safe, unlocked it, and took out the box. I went over to the desk, took the lid off, removed the Woolf card and put it on the blotter. I returned the rest of the cards to the safe, locked it up and went back to the desk."

Dot was giving a running commentary as she acted out what had happened.

"I was about to copy a couple of things from the card when I remembered that I needed the Campion one as well." Dot went over to the safe again. "I went back, got the box out again, and placed it on the desk as I'm doing now. I removed the Campion card and put the lid back on. I was about to return to the safe when the telephone rang. I put the box down, answered the call, made some notes, and then took up the box and placed it back in the safe as I'm doing now. I locked it up and returned to the desk."

"When did you discover the card was gone?" asked Fatty.

"When I got back to the desk," Dot replied. "It was exactly at that moment, so I retrieved the box and went through it card by card. No luck! I put it back in the safe and then proceeded to look all round the floor in wider and wider circles until I'd covered the whole area, and then I started on the drawers and the rubbish bin, and everywhere else I could think of."

Fatty went over to the safe and removed the box from it. He returned to the desk and placed it there. Larry had a feeling inside that something was about to happen.

"Right, Dot. Take the box and put it back where it belongs." His secretary did what he instructed and Fatty watched her hands intently as she placed the box once more in the safe and clanged the door shut. She came back to the counter and looked at Fatty as if trying to read what was going on in his mind.

Fatty addressed them both. "Remember the statement that Holmes made? He said – When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.

"Yes, I do remember that," said Larry, "although I'm not sure where. Sign of Four?"

"He said it more than once, and yes, you're right," returned Fatty, "although I was thinking of The Blanched Soldier. Now, I wonder if Conan Doyle really believed that statement himself because if he had applied it to Harry Houdini then maybe that's why he believed the magician to be a true psychic."

"How do you mean, Mr. T?" asked Dot, who was looking expectantly at Fatty.

"Houdini performed some remarkable feats of magic and he was also able to duplicate the performances that psychics claimed were manifestations of their own unique powers. Conan Doyle... Arthur Conan Doyle, who supplied the public with his accounts of Sherlock Holmes, learnt of Houdini's abilities and became convinced that the magician could actually dematerialize himself. In other words he had no other explanation for Houdini's abilities and had presumably judged him on the premise – whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. He had settled on the idea that the magician had supernatural powers. Now, are you going to think that I'm gifted the same way because I'm going to produce the missing card out of the air, so to speak?"

Two voices spoke in unison although Dot's was a little more urgent. "Mr. T, I know you can! Save my integrity. Save my reputation!" Dot turned to Larry with a smile on her face, "Does that sound dramatic enough?"

"Perfectly," said Larry "but I'm not sure that I can believe Fatty's statement, although I'm not going to say I'll eat my hat if he somehow manages to produce it."

Fatty waved his hands in the air and opened the right one. Larry spotted what looked like a slightly crumpled oblong-shaped piece of paper or card nestled in the palm.

Dot clapped her hands to her head and gave a squeal that made Larry jump. She flung herself at Fatty, grabbed the card out of his hand, threw her arms around him and planted a kiss on his cheek.

Fatty, rather embarrassedly, extricated himself and them with a flourish he bowed to his audience.

Dot held the card up as if she couldn't believe it was there. Larry idly glanced at it out of interest but Dot immediately turned it slightly downwards which testified that she was professional all the way through even if she had managed to mislay the card temporarily.

Fatty saw his glance. "Sorry, Larry. Very Top Secret as you might know."

"Yeah, I was aware of that," said Larry, "it was just a reporter's instinct. Forgive me."

"No. I didn't mean you were doing anything wrong," said Fatty. "Anyone would automatically look to see what was on it, but you can't be allowed to, of course. If Dot or I were questioned in a court of law and had to tell the absolute truth under oath that you'd seen what was on it, then all kinds off counter claims could be argued."

Dot enthused, "I knew you would get it back Mr. T, and I'm really not sure that you haven't got supernatural powers." She looked so enquiringly at Fatty that he laughed out loud.

"What do you expect me to say?"

"Isn't he marvelous Mr. Larry? Mr. T, sometimes I think you're a sorcerer and this confirms it! Now, tell us how you found it."

"Come on, Sherlock Trotteville, reveal your methods to us mere mortals, please." Larry had run everything that he had seen over and over in his mind but he couldn't understand how Fatty had produced the card from what seemed like nowhere.

Fatty looked at them both with an amused smile on his face, "...And now for my next trick! I'll tell you how I did it only because I know you'll pester me until I do let on. Fetch the box again, Dot." As she brought it out of the safe, Fatty pointed at it.

"Look! See these marks all round it. What are they?"

Larry studied the surfaces and answered, "Tape marks from where it's been repaired. Right?"

"Right! Feel them." Dot and Larry ran their fingers lightly over the container and felt the various sticky areas where the old tape had peeled off. They were all over the place and gave some proof as to the age of the box.

"Sticky?" enquired Fatty.

"Yes," said Larry, and then the penny dropped. "OF COURSE!"

"You've got it. How about you, Dot? I'm sure you've picked up enough to put the facts together."

"Mr. T, I was blind. Why didn't I think of that?"

"I feel you would have after a little more thought. The card had to be somewhere nearby but what you didn't do was to take your mind right outside the normal places it could be and indulge in a bit of lateral thinking, but it's certainly nothing that you could be blamed for personally, Dot. It was just one of those things."

"That course has paid dividends," said Larry.

"I'd say they all have," suggested Fatty. "Lateral thinking combined with a touch of Pure Analysis was the key. You placed the box on top of the card in question and it simply stuck to the base by means of the sticky-tape residue that's been there for years. You picked it up and placed it in the safe none the wiser. I watched how you held the box and saw that you grasped it at the sides rather than placing your hands underneath so, naturally, you didn't feel it clinging there."

"Mr. T, I love you, you're a genius!"

"I know!"

"I'm sorry," said Larry, feeling that as Fatty's overseer in that department he should contribute something to the conversation. "Not allowed."

"Party Pooper!"

Larry laughed, "Fatty, I'm as impressed as anyone could be and if ever I lose something I know where to come."

"Larry, I trust you as I would myself and that's why I didn't run you out of the office when this happened. Say nothing about this to anyone, of course, and just follow the material you have at the Gazette because it'll all come out soon and your paper will print every detail I'm sure."

Larry spoke quite fervently. "My lips are sealed," Fatty.

"Good, Good, Good." Fatty turned to his secretary. "Dot, ring Ruth. Tell her that on Monday morning she's to be Dallows' first customer. She can wait at the door and help him bring in the newspapers if she likes. I want a proper, wooden or metal, solid, stolid, firm, unyielding, made-to-measure file box. She can refund herself from petty-cash."

"Will do, Mr. T."

"Larry! Lunchtime, let's go."

Dot had regained her equilibrium, and her humour, "Mr. T, I'm so grateful to you that I'm willing to contribute toward the side of beef!"

"Thanks Dot, but don't do that. Spend it on a book that teaches you how to remove stickiness from cardboard boxes. That'll keep you so busy that you won't have time to insult me! Come on Larry, let's see a little of Peterswood together after all these years."

To be continued...