by Enid Blyton
Mystery #03 — The Mystery of the Secret Room
( The Five Find-Outers - 3 )
Enid Blyton
Fatty astonishes Mr Goon with his wonderful disguises, while he tries to discover who is using Miss Crump's old house and why. Inspector Jenks will help the Five Find-Outers again. And there's a surprise for Mr Goon!
Mystery #03 — The Mystery of the Secret Room
Mystery03 — The Mystery of the Secret Room—Blyton, Enid.
Home from School
Pip set out his painting things, poked the playroom fire, and sat down to finish his Christmas cards.
“You do them nicely, Pip,” said Bets, looking over his shoulder. “I wish I could keep inside the lines like you do.”
“You’re only little yet,” said Pip, beginning to paint red berries on his card.
“Well, I’ve had another birthday, and I’m nine now,” said Bets. “I’m getting bigger. You’re still twelve, Pip, so I’m only three years behind you now.”
“When are the others coming?” asked Pip, looking at the clock. “I told them to come early. It’s fun to do our Christmas presents together.”
Bets went to the window of their big playroom. “Here come Larry and Daisy,” she said. “Oh, Pip, isn’t it fun to be altogether again?”
Bets didn’t go to boarding-school as the others did, and she often felt lonely in term-time, when her brother Pip was away, and their three friends, Larry and Daisy Daykin, and Fatty Trotteville.
But now it was Christmas holidays and they were all home. Bets felt very happy. She had her brother again, and Christmas was coming - and darling Buster, Fatty’s dog, would come to see her every single day.
Larry and Daisy came up the stairs to the playroom. “Hallo!” said Larry. “Finished your cards yet? I’ve still got three to do, and Daisy’s got a present to finish. We brought them along.”
“Good,” said Pip, putting his paintbrush into his mouth to give it a nice point. “There’s plenty of room at the table. Fatty’s not here yet.”
A loud barking outside sent Bets to the window again. “It’s Buster - and Fatty,” she said. “Oh, good! Fatty looks plumper than ever!”
In half a minute Fatty and Buster were in the playroom, Fatty looking very sleek and pleased with himself, and Buster bursting with excitement. He flew at everyone and licked them thoroughly.
“Hallo, Buster dear!” said Bets. “Oh, Fatty, Buster’s got thin and you’ve got fat.”
“Well, Fatty won’t be any thinner after Christmas,” said Larry, settling down at the table. “Brought some cards to finish, Fatty? I’ve just about worked down my list.”
Larry and Daisy were brother and sister. Fatty was an only child, always rather pleased with himself, and Buster was his faithful companion. The five and Buster were firm friends.
Fatty put down a fat book on the table, and a very fine Christmas card, which he had done himself. Bets pounced on it at once.
“Fatty! What a beauty! Surely you didn’t do this yourself? Gracious, it’s as good as any you can find in a shop.”
“Oh, well,” said Fatty, looking pleased, “I’m not bad at art, you know. I was top again this term, and the art master said -”
“Shut up,” said Pip, Larry and Daisy together. Fatty did so love to boast about his cleverness. They wouldn’t let him if they could help it.
“All right, all right,” said Fatty, looking injured. “Always biting my head off! I’ve a good mind not to tell you who the card is for?”
“For your flattering art master, I suppose,” said Pip, painting a holly leaf carefully.
Fatty kept silence. Bets looked at him. “Tell me who it’s for,” she said. “I want to know. I think it’s lovely.”
“Well, as a matter of fact, I meant this card and this book to go to a friend of ours from all of us!” said Fatty. “But seeing that only Bets admires the card, I’ll just send it from myself.”
The others looked up. “Who’s it for then?” asked Daisy. She picked it up. “It’s jolly good. Are these five children meant to be us? And is this Buster?”
“Yes,” said Fatty. “Can’t you guess who the card is for? It’s for Inspector Jenks.”
“Oh! What a good idea!” said Bets. “Is the book for him, too? What is it?”
She picked it up and opened it. It was a book about fishing.
“That’s a fine idea, Fatty,” said Larry. “The Inspector is mad on fishing. He’ll be thrilled with the book and the card. Do send them from all of us. They’re fine.”
“I meant to,” said Fatty. “We can share the price of the book between us, and we can each write our name on the card. See what I’ve put inside it.”
He flicked it open, and the children bent to see what he had printed there, in beautiful, neat letters:
“BEST CHRISTMAS WISHES FROM THE FIVE FIND-OUTERS - AND DOG.”
“That’s fine,” said Pip. “Golly, we’ve had some fun, haven’t we, being the Find-Outers? I hope we’ll have some more mysteries to solve.”
“We’ve solved the Mystery of the Burnt Cottage and the Mystery of the Disappearing Cat,” said Daisy. “I wonder what our next mystery will be. Do you think we shall have a mystery these hols?”
“Shouldn’t be surprised,” said Fatty. “Any one seen old Clear-Orf yet?”
Clear-Orf was the village policeman Mr. Goon, detested by the children. He in turn detested them, especially as twice they had managed to solve problems before he himself had.
No one had seen Mr. Goon. Nobody particularly wanted to. He was not an amiable person at all, with his fat red face and bulging frog-eyes.
“We’d better all sign this card,” said Fatty, producing a very fine fountain pen. Fatty always had the best of everything, and far too much pocket-money. However, he was always willing to share this, so nobody minded.
“Eldest first,” said Fatty, so Larry took the pen. He was thirteen. He signed his name neatly, “Laurence Daykin.”
“I’m next,” said Fatty. “I’m thirteen next week. You’re not thirteen until the New Year, Pip.”
He signed his name, “Frederick Algernon Trotteville.”
“I bet you never sign your full initials, Fatty,” said Pip, taking the pen next - “ ‘F.A.T.’ ”
“Well, I don’t,” said Fatty. “You wouldn’t either, if you had my initials and were fat. It would be just asking for trouble.”
Pip signed his name, “Philip Hilton.” Then Daisy signed hers, “Margaret Daykin.”
“Now you, little Bets,” said Fatty, handing her the pen. “Best writing, please.”
Sticking her tongue well out, Bets signed her full name in rather straggling writing, “Elizabeth Hilton,” but after it she wrote, “Bets.”
“Just in case he forgets that Elizabeth is me,” she explained.
“He wouldn’t,” said Fatty. “I bet he never forgets a thing. He’s very clever. You aren’t made an inspector of police unless you’ve got brains. We’re lucky to have him for our friend.”
They were - but the Inspector liked and admired the Five Find-Outers too. They had been of great help to him in two difficult cases.
“I hope we can be Find-Outers again,” said Bets.
“I think we ought to find a better name,” said Fatty, putting the cap back on his fountain-pen. “It’s a silly name, I think - the Find-Outers. Nobody would know that we were first-class detectives.”
“Well,we’re not,” said Larry. “We’re not really detectives at all, though we like to think we are. The name we have is just right - we’re only children who find out things.”
Fatty didn’t like th
at. “We’re more than that,” he said, settling down at the table. “Didn’t we beat old Goon twice? I don’t mind telling you I’m going to be a famous detective when I’m grown up, I think I’ve got just the mind for it.”
“The conceit to think so, you mean,” said Pip, grinning. “You don’t really know much about detectives and the way they work, Fatty.”
“Oh, don’t I!” said Fatty, beginning to wrap up the book on fishing together with the Christmas card. “That’s all you know, see? I’ve been studying hard. I’ve been reading spy books and detective books all the term.”
“Well, I bet you were bottom of the form then,” said Larry. “You can’t do that sort of thing and work, too.”
“I can,” said Fatty. “I was top of the form in everything. I always am. You won’t believe my maths marks - I only lost -”
“He’s off again,” said Pip to Larry. “He’s like a gramophone record, isn’t he?”
Fatty subsided and glared at Pip. “All right,” he said. “Say what you like - but I bet you don’t know how to do invisible writing, or get out of a locked room when the key isn’t your side!”
The others stared at him. “You don’t know how either,” said Pip disbelievingly.
“Well, I do then,” said Fatty. “Those are two of the things I’ve learnt already. And I could teach you a simple code, too, a secret code.”
This sounded exciting. Bets stared at Fatty with eyes wide.
“Teach us all those things,” she begged. “Oh, Fatty, I would so like to do invisible writing.”
“You have to learn the art of disguising yourself too.” said Fatty, enjoying the rapt attention of the others.
“What’s disguising?” asked Bets.
“Oh, dressing yourself up in such a way that people don’t know it’s you,” said Fatty. “Putting a wig on and perhaps a moustache or different eyebrows, wearing different clothes. For instance, I could disguise myself quite well as a butcher’s boy if I had a striped apron, and a knife or something hung down from my belt. If I wore an untidy black wig too, I bet none of you would know me.”
This was really too exciting for words. All the children loved dressing up and pretending. This business of “disguising” seemed a glorified dressing-up.
“Are you going to practise disguising yourself next term?” asked Bets.
“Well - no, not in term-time,” said Fatty, thinking that his form master would soon see through any disguise. “But I thought I might these hols.”
“Oh, Fatty! Can we too?” said Daisy. “Let’s all practise being proper detectives, in case another mystery crops up. We could do it much better then.”
“And if another mystery doesn’t crop up, we’ll have the fun of practising for it anyway,” said Bets.
“Right,” said Fatty, “but I think if I am going to teach you all these things I ought to be the head of the Find-Outers, not Larry. I know Larry’s the oldest - but I think I know more about these things now.”
There was silence. Larry didn’t want to give up being head, though in fairness he had to admit that Patty was really the cleverest at spotting things when they had a mystery to solve.
“Well, what about it?” said Fatty .“I shan’t give away my secrets if you don’t make me head.”
“Let him be head, Larry,” said Bets, who admired Fatty tremendously. “Head of the next mystery anyway, whatever it is. If he isn’t as clever as you at solving it, then we could make you head again.”
“All right,” said Larry. “I do think Fatty would make a good head, really. But if you get conceited about it, Fatty, we’ll sit on you hard.”
“You needn’t tell one that,” said Patty, with a grin.
“Right-o! I’ll be head. Thanks, Larry, that was sporting of you. Now I can teach you some of the things I know. After all, you simply never know when they might come in useful.”
“It might be very, very important to be able to write a letter in invisible ink,” said Bets. “Oh, Fatty, do teach us something now.”
But Bets’ mother just then put her head in at the playroom.
“I’ve got tea ready for you downstairs. Wash your hands and come along, will you? Don’t be too long, because the scones are nice and hot.”
Five hungry children and an equally hungry dog shot off downstairs, forgetting everything for the moment but hot scones, strawberry jam, and cake. But they wouldn’t forget for long - things sounded too exciting!
Fatty has some Ideas
Christmas came so quickly, and there was so much to do that Fatty had no time to teach the Find-Outers any of the things he had learnt. The postman came continually to the three homes, and cards soon stood everywhere. Parcels were hidden away, Mince-pies were made. Large turkeys hung in the larders.
“I do love Christmas,” said Bets a hundred times a day. “I wonder what I shall get on Christmas morning. I do hope I get a new doll. I’d like one that opens and shuts its eyes properly. I’ve only got one doll that does that, and her eyes always stick shut. Then I have to shake her hard, and I’m sure she thinks I’m cross with her.”
“Baby!” said Pip. “Fancy still wanting dolls! I bet you won’t get one.”
To Bets’ great disappointment there was no doll for her in her Christmas parcels. Everyone thought that as she was now nine, and liked to say she was getting big, she wouldn’t want a doll. So her mother had given her a work-basket and her father a difficult jigsaw which she knew Pip would like much better than she would!
She was rather sad - but Fatty put everything right by coming round on Christmas morning with a big box for Bets - and inside was the doll she had wanted! It opened and shut its eyes without any shaking at all, and had such a smiling face that Bets lost her heart to it at once. She flung herself on Fatty and hugged him like a small bear.
He was pleased. He liked Bets. Mrs. Hilton was surprised at the beautiful doll.
“That is very kind of you, Frederick,” she said. “You shouldn’t have spent so much money on Bets, though.”
“I shall have plenty for my birthday,” said Fatty politely, “and I’ve heaps for Christmas, Mrs. Hilton. I asked for money this Christmas instead of toys or books.”
“I should have thought you had plenty without asking for any more,” said Mrs. Hilton, who privately thought that Fatty always had far too much money to spend. “Why did you want so much money?”
“Well - to spend on something I didn’t think people would give me,” said Fatty, looking rather uncomfortable. “It’s a bit of a secret, really, Mrs. Hilton.”
“Oh,” said Bets’ mother. “Well, I hope it’s nothing that will get you into trouble. I don’t want Mr. Goon, the policeman, round here complaining about you children any more.”
“Oh no, Mrs. Hilton,” Fatty assured her. “Mr. Goon doesn’t come into this at all.”
As soon as her mother had gone Bets turned to Fatty with sparkling eyes. “What’s the secret? What are you going to buy?”
“Disguises!” said Fatty, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Wigs! Eyebrows! Teeth!”
“Oooh - teeth!” said Bets, in wonder. “But how can you wear false teeth without having your real teeth out, Fatty?”
“You wait and see,” said Fatty mysteriously.
“Do come after Christmas as soon as you can and teach us how to write invisibly and how to get out of locked rooms,” begged Bets. “I say - I wonder if old Clear-Orf knows those things?”
“Course not!” said Fatty scornfully. “And if Clear-Orf tried to disguise himself it wouldn’t be a bit of good. We’d always know his frog’s eyes and big fat nose.”
Bets giggled. She hugged her doll, and thought how clever and kind Fatty was. She said so.
“Oh, well,” said Fatty, swelling up a little, prepared to boast to his heart’s content, “I’m -”
But just then Pip came into the room and Fatty stopped. Pip didn’t take kindly to Fatty’s boasting. Fatty had a few words with Pip and then went.
“I’ll
come along after Christmas and give you all some Find-Outers lessons,” he promised. “Give my love to Daisy and Larry if you see them today. I’ve got to go over to my grandmother’s for Christmas with my mother and father.”
Bets told Pip what Fatty had said about spending his money on disguises. “He said he would buy wigs - and eyebrows - and teeth!” said Bets. “Oh, Pip, do you think he will? What shop sells things like that? I’ve never seen any.”
“Oh, I suppose they are shops that actors go to,” said Pip. “They have to buy things like that. Well, we’ll see what Fatty gets. We ought to have some fun.”
When the excitement of Christmas was over, the Christmas trees taken down and re-planted in the garden, and the cards sent away to a children’s hospital, the children felt rather flat. Fatty apparently was staying at his grand-mother’s, for they saw nothing of him, and had a post-card saying, “Back soon. Fatty.”
“I wish he’d come back,” said Bets. “Suppose a mystery cropped up? We’d have to be Find-Outers again - and our chief wouldn’t be here.”
“Well, there isn’t any mystery,” said Pip.
“How do you know?” said Bets. “Old Clear-Orf might be trying to solve one we don’t know about.”
“Well, ask him then,” said Pip impatiently, for he was trying to read, and Bets kept interrupting him. He didn’t really mean Bets to go and ask the policeman, of course. But she couldn’t help thinking it was rather a good idea.
“Then we should know if there was going to be something for us to solve these hols,” thought the little girl. “I’m longing to hunt for clues again - and suspects - and track down things.”
So the next time she met the policeman she went up to him. “Mr. Goon, have you got a mystery to solve these holidays?” she asked.
The policeman frowned. He wondered if Bets and the others were on the track of something he didn’t know about - else why should Bets want to know if he was solving one?
“Are you interfering in anything again?” he asked sternly. “If you are, you stop it. See? I won’t have you children messing about in jobs that properly belong to me. Interfering with the Law!”
