Mystery of the Missing Man (15 page)

“Nothing to report,” said Larry. “And Pip had no news either. How long will you sit here, Fatty? When do you think Goon will come - if he does come?”

“I don’t know. But I think if he hasn’t come by seven, I’ll ring up the Chief Inspector and see if Goon is trying to get a search-warrant,” said Fatty. “It would be a help to know.”

“Right,” said Larry. “Well, good luck. Give me a ring if you want me to come down after our evening meal, and keep watch.”

“Thanks,” said Fatty.

“Isn’t this fun?” said Eunice, as she settled down in the grass near Fatty. But Fatty was in a gloomy mood and didn’t respond at all. The Fangio caravan still remained shut, and was silent and apparently empty. Fatty began to wonder if his reasoning had been all wrong. Was he correct in thinking that the scarred man was being hidden by the Fangios?

“After all, the only real clue we have is the fact that Lucita and Josef both look rather like the photo of the man with a scar,” thought Fatty, “and Lucita seemed surprised and angry when I mentioned a scarred man - and so did her mother. But that’s absolutely the only reason why I think they may be hiding the fellow. It seems pretty thin reasoning really.”

Eunice soon got bored with Fatty. “I’ll take a look round the camp,” she said, getting up. “I’m bored sitting here.”

“No, don’t wander about,” said Fatty. “You’ll only draw attention to us. Sit down again. Tell me about the meeting this afternoon.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” said Eunice, rather sulkily. “I saw that cleaner-woman. I watched her all the time to see if she did anything suspicious.”

“But how could she do anything suspicious? Don’t be silly,” said Fatty.

“Well, she might have. You told me to keep an eye on her,” argued Eunice. “So I did. She stared back at me - in fact we had quite a staring-match. I don’t like her.”

“Well, look - here she comes!” said Fatty, suddenly. “Don’t stare though - she may recognize you. Eunice, I said don’t stare!”

But Eunice did. Mrs. Fangio was coming over the field, her shawl over her dirty grey hair, and her wrinkled face as brown as a berry. She saw Eunice, as she came near the caravan.

“Ho! So you’re here, are you!” she said. “What did you stare at me for all the afternoon? I saw you - rude little pig!

“Don’t talk to me like that,” said Eunice, in her high-and-mighty way.

“I’ll talk to you how I like,” said Mrs. Fangio, who seemed to be in a very bad temper. “And just get away from here, see? This is a caravan camp, and you’ve got no business here, no, nor that boy neither. You can clear out, both of you.”

“Well, we shan’t,” said Eunice. “How dare you talk to me like that!”

“I’ll show you!” said Mrs. Fangio, and she came quickly up to where Eunice sat. Fatty leapt up, afraid that the angry old woman was going to hit Eunice. He caught her arm as she raised it.

“Now!” he said, “there’s no need for…” But he didn’t finish what he was going to say, for the angry old woman hit him such a blow on the chin that he fell backwards, landing heavily on the squealing Eunice. Mrs. Fangio gave a strange, hoarse laugh and went up the steps of the caravan, unlocking it with a key.

“Oh, Frederick - you squashed all the breath out of me!” cried Eunice. “Get off! What are you doing?”

Fatty slid off the angry girl, feeling considerably astonished. What a good thing he had caught that blow and not Eunice. He felt his chin tenderly. Bad-tempered old woman! Fatty heard the sound of laughter, and saw two or three children nearby, pointing at him.

“She gave you one all right!” said a small boy. “And down you went!”

“Plonk!” added a small girl.

“Come on, Eunice. Let’s get away from here,” said Fatty, feeling most humiliated. The old woman had taken him quite by surprise. To think he had gone down flat like that! Fatty hoped that Eunice would hold her tongue about it.

“I’m going back home,” announced Eunice. “I’ve had enough of this. Horrible old woman! She might set the son and daughter on us too, when they come back. This is a silly idea of yours, Frederick.”

“All right. We’ll go back,” said Fatty, quite shaken. They walked by the small children, who sent a volley of squeals after them. Eunice was longing to tick them off but Fatty wouldn’t let her.

“Now just you shut up for a bit,” he said. “If you hadn’t stared at that old woman when I told you not to, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“You hurt me when you fell on me,” Eunice complained. “Do you mean to say you fell down because that silly old woman hit you? Well!”

“She just got in a lucky blow, that I wasn’t expecting,” said Fatty. “Now do be quiet, Eunice. I want to think.”

As soon as they got back, Fatty rang up the Chief Inspector. “Frederick Trotteville here, sir. Er - I wonder if you’d tell me if Mr. Goon has got in touch with you recently about the escaped prisoner case, sir? Several things have happened, and…”

“Yes. I know. And Goon wanted a warrant to search a caravan camp,” said the Inspector’s voice. “I said he could have one tomorrow. Have you unearthed any fresh news about the case, Frederick?”

“Well no, sir,” said poor Fatty. “I mean - I’ve got clues that just don’t seem to lead anywhere. I can’t help thinking that the only thing to do is to search the camp.”

“Right,” said the business-like voice at the other end of the line. “Sorry about it, Frederick, if you were hoping to solve the case. But you can’t always be successful, you know. Goodbye.”

Poor Fatty. He felt very down in the dumps as he went in to the evening meal that night, and nobody could get a word out of him. Eunice offered to play chess with him afterwards.

“No, thanks,” said Fatty, feeling quite certain she would beat him tonight, “I’m going up to bed soon.”

“Good gracious!” said Eunice, surprised. “By the way, how’s your chin?” She gave a most annoying little giggle.

“Well, if you really want to know, it’s jolly sore!” said Fatty, fiercely. “It’s black and blue. And stop that idiotic giggling.”

“What a fuss to make about being hit by a poor old woman,” said Eunice, mockingly. “Cheer up! You’re really going to bed, I suppose, Frederick? You’re not going to slip out again for anything exciting, are you?”

“As if I’d tell you!” said Fatty, and went upstairs with Buster, leaving Eunice wondering if he did mean to slip out again after all. Well - she would keep a watch and if he did, she would follow him. That would serve him right for being rude.

Fatty did mean to slip out. He had forgotten all about slimming again that day and had eaten too much. He had decided that he would put on his running-shorts and go down to the caravan camp for one last look round - just for luck.

“It’s my last chance,” he thought. “Goon will be there tomorrow, with his search-warrant - and if there is anything to be found, he’ll find it! Blow - blow - BLOW!”

Fatty in Trouble

At about half-past nine Fatty slipped quietly down the stairs, in his singlet and running-shorts. He thought that nobody had heard him, as he went out of the side door.

But the watchful Eunice had not only heard him, but seen him too! She was in her room, with the door a little ajar, and she saw him creeping by. She had put on a short skirt and jersey, and wore her rubber shoes, ready for running too. Her heart beat fast. Fatty might be angry - but she was just going to show him that she could run too - and could outwit him as well!

She went out of the side door like a shadow and heard the click of the little side gate. She ran to it and out into the road. Yes, there was Frederick, running fast. Off went Eunice too!

She soon realized that he was off to the caravan camp, so it was easy to follow him, without getting too near. A little later they were both in the big field, with the quiet caravans standing about here and there.

Some had lights on. Some hadn’t. Fatty made his way to the Fangios’ caravan, which was lighted inside. Eunice followed like a shadow. Fatty disappeared under the van and Eunice stood in the shadow of a tree and waited. What was Fatty going to do?

Suddenly the caravan door opened and something shot out, landing near Eunice. She jumped as she felt something soft and warm sliding against her bare legs. It was a cat!

“Dirty little beast!” cried a voice from the caravan. “Stay out there!” The door slammed. The cat mewed pitifully, frightened, and Eunice bent to stroke it. Then something else happened. The caravan door opened again, and someone came down the steps.

“Minnie, Minnie, Minnie!” said a voice. “Poor Minnie! Where are you? Did they kick you and throw you out, the beasts? Minnie, Minnie!”

The cat left Eunice and went over to whoever it was nearby. Eunice stood as still as a mouse. Had Fatty heard all this? She hoped he would be careful, hiding under the caravan. If that was the old woman, she wouldn’t be at all pleased to find either Fatty or Eunice there!

Fatty was still under the caravan. He too had heard what had happened. He kept perfectly still, hardly breathing, for on no account must the Fangios know that he was there! He heard someone walking down the steps, and heard the calls of “Minnie, Minnie, Minnie!”

“The old lady after her cat again, I suppose,” he thought, and then in alarm he felt the cat against him! That would never do! If it mewed, the old woman would certainly grope under the van for it.

“Minnie, Minnie - oh, you’ve gone to hide under the van again,” said the voice. “Here, puss, here!” And then to Fatty’s awful horror, Mrs. Fangio came crawling under the van too. He tried to creep backwards, away from her, but she heard him and in a trice a very hard hand caught hold of his arm.

“Who’s this! Who’s this!” she cried, and called loudly, “Josef! Lucita! Come here!”

Before they could come, the old lady had dragged Fatty out from under the van, and given him such a box on the ear that he fell over on his side. He could not bring himself to strike back, or even to struggle too hard, for to hit a woman was something Fatty could not do.

And then Josef was on top of him, and Lucita was there with a torch! The cat gave a frightened howl and disappeared.

“It’s that boy - the boy who was here before!” hissed Mrs. Fangio, evidently afraid of attracting attention from the nearby vans. “Why does he spy on us? Josef - take him to that old caravan and lock him in. Gag him first. See, here is my shawl.”

The shawl was pulled tightly round poor Fatty’s face, and somebody tied his arms behind him. Struggling hard, and kicking out, he was half-dragged, half-carried to the smelly old caravan he had peeped into the night before. He was thrown in, and the door was locked.

Fatty was extremely angry. To think that he had been caught as easily as that! But how fierce and strong that old woman was - he felt his ear burning - it was swollen and stinging with the blow she had given it. What a horrid old woman! And yet how gentle she had been with the cat!

Fatty lay still in the smelly caravan, trying to get back his breath. Pooh! The smell nearly made him sick! He lay and thought rapidly. What was he to do? He couldn’t shout because he was gagged. He couldn’t try to open the door because his arms were tied behind his back. Perhaps he could kick at the door and get help? No - that would bring other caravan folk here, and he might be given a bad time - especially if the Fangios came along too!

And then, as he lay there, he heard an anxious voice outside. “Frederick - are you all right?”

Gracious goodness, it was Eunice! Fatty could hardly believe his hears. EUNICE! She must have followed him all the way to the camp. Well - thank goodness she had. Perhaps she could get him out of this mess.

He drummed on the wooden floor with his heels to let her know that he was alive and kicking. He heard her rattling at the door, but it was locked, and there was no key.

Then he heard her climbing up to stand on the wheel to look through the small window. It was broken, but was far too small for her to climb through to help Fatty.

“Frederick - it’s me, Eunice,” she said.

Fatty could not say anything because of the shawl tied tightly round his mouth, but he drummed hard with his feet again. Eunice shone her torch in at the window and gave a gasp when she saw poor Fatty lying there gagged and bound. “Frederick - listen!” she said. “I’m going to tell you what I think I’d better do. Drum two or three times with your feet if you agree, but only once if you don’t.”

Fatty heard and drummed thankfully with his feet. Good old Eunice! Now - had she a sensible plan?

“I can’t unlock the door and I can’t get in at the window,” she said. “I’m frightened of trying to get help from the caravan people in case the Fangios interfere and catch me as well. So I’m going to go straight back to your home and get help. Is that all right?”

Fatty drummed vigorously with his feet. Yes, that was fine! Thank goodness she hadn’t suggested going to Goon.

“I’ll tell your father what has happened and leave it to him to say what’s best to do next,” said Eunice. “Well, I’m going now, Frederick, though I hate leaving you like this. I shall run all the way. It won’t be long before you get help.”

Fatty drummed again. What a blessing Eunice had followed him! He heard her jump down from the caravan and then he lay still and began to think about the whole mystery. Those Fangios - where were they hiding that man - that second man whose voice he had heard during the quarrel in the caravan? Could there be a false bottom to the van? He hadn’t thought of that.

“Well, if there is, Goon will find it in the morning,” he thought. “To think that old Goon will at last have solved a mystery before I have!”

He wondered how far Eunice had got. If she ran, it wouldn’t take her long to get home and raise the alarm. Probably his father would telephone Chief Inspector Jenks. Well - he wouldn’t be very pleased about that!

Eunice had shot off through the field to the gate, being careful not to be seen. It was a very dark night, and a mist was coming up from the river. Eunice ran through the gate and away up the road, and then stopped at a corner. She gazed into the mist that was now hiding familiar landmarks.

“Blow! This mist is going to make things difficult,” thought Eunice. “Well - I think I turn up here.”