Mystery of the Missing Man (16 page)

And she promptly took the wrong road! She ran on and on, looking for a corner that never came. She stopped at last, and looked round and about fearfully. Where in the world was she?

“Don’t say I’ve lost my way!” she groaned. “I’d better ask at some house or other. Blow this mist!”

But there were no houses to be seen! Eunice had taken the path to the river, and now there was nothing but fields. She was on the path beside the river - and as she stood there she heard the water not far off.

She left the path and took a few paces to one side - and stopped with a gasp. Yes - there was the river!

“Well, now I’m completely lost!” said poor Eunice. “I don’t even know whether to go forward or backward - or turn off to my right. Certainly I can’t turn off to the left or I’ll be in the river! I wish this mist would clear!”

She tried walking to the right but gave it up and came back to the path again. There was nothing but a field of long wet grass on the right. “I’d better walk straight along the path,” decided Eunice. “I’m bound to get somewhere then!”

So off she went, shining her torch in front of her. But she was now on the long, long river-path to Marlow, and it seemed as if the way would go on stretching into the swirling mist for ever and ever. Eunice was almost in tears.

“Just when I have to get help quickly!” she thought, and went on and on. Then she realized that her torch was giving out. The beam it threw was getting faint. She was very frightened then. She might easily walk into the river if her torch no longer lighted her way.

She gave a sudden exclamation. “What’s this? An old boat-house! If only I could get in there and wait till daylight! I simply daren’t go on with my torch giving out.”

It was easy to make her way into the dilapidated old boat-house. There was an old boat there, and Eunice scrambled into it thankfully. She made herself as comfortable as she could with sacks and a rotting tarpaulin.

“Now I must just wait for daylight,” she thought. “There’s nothing else to do! Oh, why did I lose my way when it was so very, very important that I should get help quickly?”

She felt sure that she would not be able to sleep - but in five minutes’ time she was fast asleep and dreaming. When she awoke, the daylight was streaming in at the dirty window of the boat-house. Eunice could not for the life of her think where she was!

Then she remembered, and jumped up, stiff and cold. “Oh dear - how could I have slept like that? What’s the time? Gracious, it’s half-past seven! Poor, poor Fatty - what must he be thinking!”

She made her way out of the boat-house and saw a path running from it across the field beyond. “That’s the path to take,” she thought, thankfully, and away she went. Soon she was on the outskirts of Peterswood.

She ran up a road, recognizing it as one she had been in before. A little way up a boy and a girl were swinging on a gate, waiting for the postman.

“Why - it’s Pip!” said Eunice, thankfully. “And Bets! I’d better tell them what’s happened.”

Pip was most surprised to see a dirty, tired, most untidy Eunice padding up to his gate. “You are out early!” he began, but she interrupted him.

“Pip, listen! Fatty’s in trouble. He’s lying in a caravan in Barker’s Field, gagged and bound. I went to fetch help last night and lost my way in the mist. I’m only just on my way to his house now.”

“Good gracious!” said Pip, startled. “I’ll go and telephone Larry and we’ll go down to the field at once. You’d better go on to Fatty’s house and give the news there. Whatever happened? Tell me quickly!”

Eunice told her story in a few words and then went off again, not feeling at all happy. Pip and Bets rushed off to telephone Larry. What a thing to happen to poor old Fatty!

The Man with the Scar

Larry was most astonished at Pip’s news and very concerned. “I don’t see that we can do anything else but go round to old Goon and get him to come with us and set Fatty free,” he said, gloomily. “It’s maddening, because he’ll gloat like anything.”

“Yes - and he’s going to search the camp this morning for the man with a scar,” said Pip, “He’ll gloat even more when he finds him - in front of us too, probably! Well, get on your bike, Larry, and meet me at Goon’s as quickly as you can.”

In four minutes both boys were at Goon’s house, knocking at the door. The daily woman, Mrs. Boggs, opened it, surprised to see them so early.

“You can’t see Mr. Goon,” she said. “He’s gone down to the caravan camp with two other constables to do a bit of searching for something. That’s all I know. If you want him, you’ll have to go there.”

“Oh - thank you,” said Larry, disappointed. He was just turning away when an idea came to him. “I think I’ll telephone Chief Inspector Jenks, Pip,” he said. “You know, Goon’s spiteful enough to leave Fatty in that caravan for ages, and if there’s no key we shan’t be able to let him out ourselves.”

The woman let them in to telephone, though she wasn’t very pleased, and stood over them all the time. Larry could not get on to the Chief himself, who wasn’t there, but left an urgent message for him. Then the boys went off to Barker’s Field on their bicycles, to find Daisy and Bets awaiting them.

“Goon’s here, if you want to speak to him,” said Daisy, eagerly. “Which is the caravan that Fatty is in, Larry?”

“I’ve no idea,” said Larry, looking round at the crowd of vans all over the field. “Come on, Pip - we’ll just go and tell Goon about Fatty, and make him ask the Fangios for the key.”

The caravanners were all in a state of indignation and curiosity. Goon was at his most pompous, ordering people to stand back or to come forward, or to remain where they were. He and the two constables with him had already gone into two or three caravans and searched them thoroughly.

Larry went up to Goon. “Mr. Goon,” he said, “we want your help, please. Fatty is locked up in one of these caravans, here - we don’t know which - and we want you to get it unlocked and set him free.”

Goon was astounded. What! That fat boy actually locked up in one of these vans? Why? Who locked him in? He was just about to ask Larry a few questions when he thought better of it. No. Let that pest of a boy stay locked up as long as possible - until he, Goon, had found the man with a scar, and then he’d let Fatty out so that he could watch his triumph. Aha! This would be one time Goon was on top and Fatty was nowhere!

“I can’t interrupt my duties,” he told Larry, pompously. “I’ll see to that fat friend of yours when I’ve finished the business I’m on. Now clear off!”

Larry was very angry. “Come on, Pip,” he said. “We’ll go and find the van ourselves and see if we can’t get Fatty out.”

They were joined by Daisy and Bets, and quickly made a round of the vans. As practically all the caravan people were out of their vans, standing about talking, and watching Goon and his men, it was easy to tell the two or three caravans in which Fatty might be locked up, for the doors of these were shut.

“This is the one,” cried Pip, standing on the wheel of one and looking in through a small broken window. “I can see Fatty - he’s lying on the floor, gagged, with his arms tied behind him. Fatty! Poor old Fatty! It won’t be long now before we’ve set you free.”

The four children looked at the door. It was old and frail, and the boys felt sure they could break it down. “Come on - all together!” said Larry.

Crash! The door fell from its hinges with hardly any trouble. Larry climbed over it and untied the shawl from Fatty’s face, and undid the ropes that bound him. He sat up, looking extremely tired. He worked his arms about to get the stiffness out of them.

“What happened?” he said, and the boys told him how Eunice had lost her way in the mist, and how she had seen Pip when at last she made her way back early that morning. “And that wretch of a Goon’s got his search-warrant and is searching the caravans now,” ended Pip.

Fatty groaned. “This is a miserable affair, isn’t it?” he said. “If that fellow with a scar is in the camp, Goon is sure to find him - and how he’ll crow over us!”

“Do you want to wait and see who it is?” asked Larry.

Just then Bets heard shouts of excitement coming from the other side of the field and looked out to see what was causing them. “I say! she said. “I do believe it’s the Chief arriving - with two of his men.”

“Whatever for?” said Fatty, in disgust. “Now he’ll see Goon on top and us nowhere! Whatever made him come?”

“Well - I phoned him,” said Larry, rather crestfallen.

“Well, you are a fathead,” said Fatty. “He’s the last person I want to see! I think I’ll slip off without speaking to him. I feel pretty awful, and I’m filthy.”

“Oh, Fatty, don’t look so miserable,” said Bets. “Please don’t. It’s not like you!”

“Right. I won’t!” said Fatty, and gave her a rather tired grin. “Come on. Let’s go.”

They all went down the caravan steps, Fatty finding himself curiously wobbly. “Look - Goon’s just got to the Fangios’ caravan,” said Daisy, thrilled. “Oh, Fatty - do you think they’ll find anyone hidden there - rolled up in a mattress or something?”

Josef, Lucita and old Mrs. Fangio had been ordered to come out of their caravan, while it was being searched. Josef went down the steps, looking angry, Lucita seemed scared, and old Mrs. Fangio clutched the cat, and called out something rude in her cackling voice.

Just at that moment Chief Inspector Jenks arrived at the caravan too. Goon was very surprised to see him, and wished suddenly that he had sent to rescue Fatty from the locked caravan.

“No results yet, Chief,” said Goon, saluting. “Of course the man with a scar that was reported to us from this camp yesterday may have gone.” Then, with a wave of his hand he sent his two helpers to search the Fangios’ caravan.

“What’s all this about?” cackled old Mrs. Fangio, indignantly. “We ain’t done nothing!”

Fatty was standing watching. He was frowning. He remembered that quarrel in the caravan - there had been two men there, he knew there had - and certainly Lucita and Mrs. Fangio had been there too. And yet when three people had left the caravan, it had been empty. The fourth person had apparently vanished into thin air! Would the two constables find his hiding-place? As he stared, the two men came down out of the caravan and shook their heads.

“Nothing there,” they said.

“Right,” said Goon, and turned to the Fangios. “You can go back,” he said and the three went up the steps, grumbling among themselves.

It was just at that very moment that something exploded in Fatty’s mind, and the whole mystery became as clear as crystal! The man with a scar? Yes, of course Fatty knew who it was! How could he have been so blind?

He gave a kind of yelp, and Goon and the Chief turned in surprise. “Why - you’re here, Frederick,” began the Chief. “How did you m-”

He stopped, for Fatty was gripping his arm fiercely.

“Sir! I can show you the escaped prisoner - the man you want, the man with a scar!” he half-shouted.

“What’s this?” said the Chief, astonished. “What do you mean? Where is he?”

“I’ll show you!” shouted Fatty, and pushed Goon roughly aside and ran up the caravan steps. Josef and Lucita had gone inside, but the old woman was still at the top, holding the cat and watching the crowd below with a mocking look on her wrinkled, screwed-up face.

Fatty took hold of her arm, gripping it tightly. He snatched at the shawl round Mrs. Fangio’s head and ripped it off. Then he grabbed off the dirty white hair - and below it was thick brown hair!

“A wig!” shouted Fatty. “And wipe her face and clean off its painted wrinkles - and you’ll find the scar!” He suddenly lunged at the wrinkled face and rubbed the upper lip with the shawl before the old woman could dodge aside. He gave a shout of triumph. “See - the scar is there. Here’s your man, Chief, here’s…”

But the astonished and furious man he held swung round his fist and knocked Fatty off the top of the caravan steps. Then he leapt straight into the watching crowd, sent them flying and raced off, holding up his skirts as he went. The old woman was a man, fierce and strong!

But one of the Chief’s men overtook him easily, and, holding him in a grip of iron, he and the other man frog-marched him to the long black car.

Everyone was so astounded at Fatty’s sudden performance that there was quite a silence at first. Then what a hullabaloo! Bets was really frightened.

“Come on, little Bets,” said the Chief, picking her up and setting her on his shoulder. “This is no place for you. Goon, you and your men disperse the crowd, please. You can report to me later. Bring in the two Fangios there for questioning.”

Lucita began to wail. “We didn’t have nothing to do with it! He made us help him. He’s our cousin and we owe him money, we didn’t want to help him, did we, Josef?”

“He’s a bad ’un!” shouted Josef. “Always was. You let us alone, we ain’t done nothing wrong!”

As Goon seemed to be struck helpless with surprise, the two men he had with him made the Fangios come down, and then took them off, howling and shouting. Everyone followed.

The four children followed too, with Bets on the Chief’s shoulder. The first prisoner was now in the big black car, shouting something very loudly out of the window.

“What’s he saying?” said the Chief, puzzled. “Something about a cat?”

“Yes,” said Fatty. “He’s yelling ‘Somebody look after that cat, somebody look after that cat!’ Little does he know that it was the cat that gave his secret away!”

“I must have a little talk with you, Frederick,” said the Chief. “Your performance was truly dramatic - but was it necessary to give it just then? Couldn’t you have let me know the facts quietly?”

“No, sir, I couldn’t,” said Fatty. “I only knew them myself at that very moment. They came on me like a flash! I’d like to tell you about it, sir. Can you come back home with us, and I’ll make my report?”

“I think I’d better,” said the Chief. “My word, you gave Goon the shock of his life when you ended the whole thing so dramatically. He almost fainted with surprise!”

Fatty looked back over his shoulder. Goon was staring after him, his mouth open, and his helmet decidedly crooked.

“I expect he’s saying ‘Gah!’ ” said Bets. “He looks like it. Poor old Goon - he might so easily have solved the mystery first.”