Mystery of the Invisible Thief (6 page)

“We’ve got plenty of clues,” said Daisy. “Footprints - glove-prints - coughs - bits of paper…”

“What’s your plan, Fatty?” asked Pip. “I bet you’ve got one.”

“Well, I have, as a matter of fact,” said Fatty modestly. “It’s like this - all we’ve got to go on at the moment is what we think the thief looks like - big-footed, heavy-handed, clumsy, with a deep, hollow cough - and we’ve got two bits of paper possibly dropped by him - and if they are addresses or names, which they probably are, we must watch those addresses or people.”

“Yes,” said Larry. “And what about asking the grocer, the baker and the postman if they saw any sign of a big-footed fellow yesterday afternoon, when they delivered their goods in our road?”

“I was coming to that,” said Fatty. “It seems to me we must split up a bit and each do a job, as we usually do.”

“Oh dear,” said Bets. “I’m really not much good by myself.”

“You’re one of the best of us,” said Fatty warmly, and Bets blushed with pleasure. “Who solved the mystery of the Pantomime Cat, I’d like to know? You did, Bets - oh yes you did - without your bright idea about it we’d never have solved it! So just you do your bit this time too.”

“Oh, I will, Fatty,” said Bets earnestly.

“Now you, Larry, go and interview the postman,” said Fatty. “And you, Pip, go to the baker. If he’s the same one that Jinny at Norton House called in to help her, the one who searched the upstairs rooms for her, all the better. He may have noticed something about the two cases that we haven’t.”

“Right,” said Pip. “I believe he is our baker too.”

“And you, Daisy and Bets, go and interview the grocer’s girl,” said Fatty. “Apparently it’s a girl who delivers Harris’s goods - that’s the grocer. Go and get her to talk - listen to all she says - remember it, and we’ll piece together everything when we meet again.”

There was a silence. Everyone wondered what little job Fatty had kept for himself.

“What are you going to do?” asked Bets.

“I’m going to disguise myself,” said Fatty, and Bets gave a squeal of joy. “And I’m going to go and watch Frinton Lea, just to see if any big-footed fellow lives there! If I watch the house all day long I may see something.”

“But, Fatty - you’ll be noticed if you stand outside all day long,” said Daisy. “Besides - what about meals?”

“I’ve thought of all that,” said Fatty. “Leave it all to me! I shan’t tell you my disguise. When you’ve done your jobs you can come along and see if you recognize me. I’ll be within fifty yards of the house all day long - visible to everyone - but I bet you anything you like that nobody will pay a moment’s attention to me!”

They all stared at him. He stared back, his eyes twinkling. “We shall spot you at once,” said Daisy.

“All right. Spot me, then,” said Fatty. “Now, come on - let’s get going. Clear-orf, all of you - and let me disguise myself!”

They all went off, laughing, wondering what Fatty was going to do. They were absolutely certain that they would spot Fatty at once. So would everyone else notice him, surely. How could anyone loiter outside a house all day long without being noticed? And what about meals? There was nowhere down by Frinton Lea where he could have even a snack. There were fields behind and the river ran just in front.

“I’m going back home to wait for the baker,” said Pip. “He comes to us about twelve o’clock, I think.”

“Oh, that’s an awfully good idea,” said Larry. “I’ll come with you, and wait for the parcel postman to come to your house too. Then we can keep each other company.”

“He may not come,’ said Pip. “We don’t always have parcels.”

“I’ll have to chance that,” said Larry. “I don’t feel like going to the post office and asking to interview the parcel postman there, in front of everyone! I half thought I’d have to do that at first!”

“What about the grocer’s girl?” said Daisy. “Do you have Harris for your grocer, Pip? If you do, Bets and I can be with you and Larry, and we can all be together.”

“No, we don’t have Harris,” said Pip. “Let me see now - what roads does the girl deliver to in the mornings? I’ve seen her somewhere. I know she only goes to your part of the town in the afternoon.”

“I know! She delivers down at the other end of the town,” said Bets suddenly. “I was at Mrs Kendal’s once, with a message for Mother - and the grocer’s girl came then. We could go and wait about for her there, Daisy.”

“Right. Come on,” said Daisy. “Goodbye, boys - don’t start playing a game and forget all about your job!”

“Don’t be silly, Daisy,” said Larry, quite annoyed. The boys went off to Pip’s and the girls went off to the other end of the town.

They were lucky because they didn’t have to wait very long. They sat in the small dairy near Mrs Kendal’s, eating ice-creams, keeping a watch for the grocer’s van.

“There it is!” said Bets suddenly, and Daisy looked up, to see Harris’s yellow van coming round the corner. It came to a stop nearby.

Daisy and Bets paid quickly for their ice-creams and hurried out. They were just in time to see the grocer’s girl jump from the van, hurry to the back, undo the door, and drag out a big box piled with groceries.

“Let her go in with it first, and then we’ll speak to her when she comes out,” said Daisy. They walked slowly to the back of the van. Then Bets saw that a little packet of soap powder had fallen out and was lying in the road.

“It must have fallen out of the girl’s box,” she said to Daisy, and bent to pick it up just as the grocer’s girl came out again, this time with her box empty.

“I say - you dropped this,” said Bets, holding it out.

“Oh, thanks very much,” said the girl gratefully. “I missed it when I took the things in just now. I’m in an awful hurry this morning - had an interview with the police, you know. About the robbery at Mrs Williams.”

This was just the opening the other two wanted. Daisy seized on it eagerly. “Oh, did you really? Did you know that I and my brother lived next door to Mrs Williams, and we rushed in to help her?”

“No! Well I never!” said the girl, astonished. “Did you see anything of the thief? I hear he took quite a bit of Mrs Williams’ jewellery.”

“Did he?” said Daisy, who hadn’t yet heard what exactly had been taken. “You went to the house yesterday afternoon too, didn’t you? Did you see anything of the thief?”

“No, not a thing,” said the girl. “I didn’t see anyone at all. I think I must have come before he was there. I never saw or heard anything.”

“Did you see any loaves or any parcel in the kitchen when you went in?” asked Bets, wondering if the grocer’s girl had gone to the house before the others.

“There were no loaves there when I went, and I didn’t see any parcel,” said the girl, getting into her van. “Mr Goon asked me a lot of questions this morning - and I couldn’t tell him a thing. To think I was there and might have brushed against the robber! Well, it just shows, doesn’t it?”

Bets and Daisy didn’t know exactly what it showed, but they nodded their heads.

“Sorry I can’t stop,” said the girl. “I’d love to hear what you did too - but I’m so awfully late. To think I didn’t hear or see a thing. Bad luck, wasn’t it?”

She drove off. Daisy and Bets looked at one another. “Well, that was unexpectedly easy,” said Bets. “It took us hardly any time. We may as well go back and see how the boys are getting on.”

So they went off to the boys, who were patiently waiting for the postman and the baker. They were swinging on the gate so as not to miss them. They looked surprised to see Daisy and Bets so soon.

“We has an easy job,” said Daisy. “But nothing came of it. The grocer’s girl delivered her goods before the others, and she didn’t see or hear anything suspicious at all.”

“Nobody ever seems to see this thief,” said Larry. “They hear him and see his foot-marks and glove-marks, but they don’t see him. I bet neither the postman nor the baker will have seen him, either.”

“Here is the postman!” said Daisy. “Look - coming up the road with his little cycle-van. Let’s hope he’s got a parcel for your house, Pip.”

The postman delivered two parcels next door. He came out again, mounted his saddle, and pedalled slowly to Pip’s house. He stopped. He rummaged in his little van and produced a parcel.

“Mrs Hilton,” he read out and looked at the children. “Any of you a Hilton?”

“Yes, I am,” said Pip, going over to the van. “I’ll take it to my mother. It’ll save you a long ride up the drive and back.”

“Thanks,” said the postman. “Sign for it, will you?”

Pip signed. “I hope you won’t bump into a thief today,” he said, giving the postman back his stump of a pencil. “I hear you almost ran into one yesterday!”

“Yes,” said the postman. “Mr Goon the policeman has been trying to find out if I saw him. I didn’t. I went to the back door, as the Cook had told me to, so as not to disturb Mrs Williams - and I saw all the groceries on the table, and 1 left my parcel by the door.”

“Were there any loaves on the table too?” asked Larry.

“Not so far as I remember,” said the postman. “I just popped my hand in with the parcel and popped out again. I was in a hurry. I didn’t see or hear anything at all. Off I went. I don’t know whether the thief was there then or not - skulking round, maybe - or hiding in a bush.”

He began to pedal slowly away. The children watched him go.

“Nobody’s much help,” said Pip. “I never knew such a thief for not being noticed by anyone. You’d think they’d see his big feet, anyhow, wouldn’t you?”

“Now we’ll wait for the baker,” said Larry. “Then we’ll scoot off down to Frinton Lea and spot Fatty. I bet we spot him. Even if he’s disguised himself as a tree we’ll spot him.”

“Buck up, baker!” said Bets, swinging on the gate. “You’re the last one left - and I guess you won’t have noticed the thief either!”

 

The Peculiar Fisherman

 

The baker arrived at last. He was a cocky little bantam of a man, with a rather high voice, and a silly way of clearing his throat. He left his van at the bottom of the road and came along carrying his basket on his arm.

“Hallo, kids,” he said, as he came up to the gate. “Having a swing-swong, eh?”

“Shall we take the bread to our cook for you?” asked Pip.

“Well - there are thieves about, you know!” said the baker, pretending to look scared. “My word - I nearly ran into one yesterday, up at Mrs Williams’s. Did you hear tell about that?”

“What happened?” asked Larry, thinking it would be a good thing to let him talk.

“Well, nothing really so far as I’m concerned,” said the baker. “I goes up there as usual, carrying my bread on my arm in my basket, like I always does. I knocks on the kitchen door before I remembers that Cookie is out. I sees the groceries on the table, and a parcel by the door, and I says, ‘Ah, the grocer girl’s been and left her things, and so’s the postman. Now it’s your turn, baker!’ ”

He grinned at them as if he had said something rather clever.

“And so I looks at the note Cookie’s left for me, and I sees as how she wants four loaves,” went on the cocky little baker. “And I pops them down, and out I goes.”

“And you didn’t see or hear anything of the thief at all then,” said Larry, disappointed.

“No. Nothing,” said the baker. “All I see is some big footprints on a bed.”

“Ah - you saw those!” said Pip and Larry together. The baker looked surprised.

“What do you know about them?” he said. “Yes, I see them - and I thinks - ah, somebody’s been walking their big feet all over the beds. Maybe the window-cleaner or somebody. And off I goes.”

“That means that the thief must either have come and gone, or was still there, hiding somewhere whilst you were delivering your bread,” said Larry. “Gosh - you might easily have seen him, What a pity you didn’t.”

“I never seen him the other day either, at Norton House,” said the baker in his high, rather silly voice. “I heard Jinny shouting and in I went - but we didn’t see no thief at all.”

“Funny,” said Pip, puzzled. “Well, if you like to give me your basket I’ll take it up to our cook and let her see what bread she wants. It will save you a long walk up the drive.”

He held out his hands for the basket, but the baker backed away and shook his head.

“No, thanks. I don’t want boys messing about with my nice clean bread,” said the baker. “I’m particular I am. I’m the only baker in Peterswood that covers his bread up with a clean cloth.”

“Oh, all right,” said Pip. “Take it yourself. I’m sure I don’t want to lug it all the way to the back door. It looks pretty heavy to me.”

The baker went in at the gate and walked up the drive like a little strutting bantam. The children watched him and laughed. “What a funny little fellow,” said Bets. “So proud of his clean bread too. You’d think he would keep his hands clean as well, if he’s as clean as all that! They’re filthy!”

They watched him disappear round the bend of the drive, looking spruce and smart in his little white coat, breeches, and small-sized, highly polished boots with polished gaiters above.

“Most disappointing,” he said, as he came back again. “No thief today anywhere. I don’t mind telling you I’m on the lookout now. Anyone suspicious and I tell the police! I promised Mr Goon that. I go into nearly everyone’s house, and I’m keeping my eyes open for him. He thinks there’ll be more robberies soon!”

“Really?” said Larry politely. The little baker strutted back to his van whistling.

“Very pleased with himself, isn’t he?” said Larry. “I don’t think I like him much.”

“Now let’s go down to Frinton Lea and see if we can find Fatty,” said Bets, jumping off the gate.

“Yes, let’s,” said Daisy, pleased. “We’ve done our bits now - not that we’ve found out anything.”

They walked down the lane to the river, then along the river-path that led to Frinton Lea. They soon came in sight of it. It was a big, rambling house, once built by rich people, and now owned by someone who ran it for paying guests.

Boats slid by on the water. Fishermen sat by the bank, stolid and patient, almost like bits of the scenery. Each had his little camp-stool, and each hunched himself over his rod, watching his float like a cat watching a mouse-hole.

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