‘There’s more chance of you having a heart attack, tubby, than of those boys doing us an injury,’ Mr Johnson quipped.
‘Suit yourselves. But don’t come running to me when there’s blood.’ Mr Plumpton took a deep breath and stalked off towards the tea marquee. He could do with a brew and a cheese scone.
‘Would you like a cup of tea, Mrs Von Thripp?’ Millie asked. She was hoping to leave her in the tent for a few minutes and look for Alice-Miranda.
‘Oh yes, dear, that would be marvellous.’
Millie pushed her into the tea marquee, where Mr Lipp and Mr Trout were busy setting up the stage for the choir’s performance.
Millie found a table and quickly organised some tea and scones.
‘I’ve, uh … just got to go to the toilet,’ the child fibbed. She ran out of the marquee and looked down towards the summer house. There were several large trucks parked close to it, obscuring her view.
What Millie saw next set her eyes agog. It was a man carrying a painting. He disappeared into the back of one of the trucks.
She had to find Alice-Miranda. It was today. Jezza and Nigel were clearing out the cellar today. In broad daylight, in the middle of the fair. The hide of them.
Millie raced back towards the marquee. She almost bumped into Jacinta and Sloane, who were taking a quick break.
‘What’s the matter?’ Jacinta said. ‘You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’
‘I need to find Alice-Miranda,’ Millie gasped.
‘Why? What’s wrong?’ Sloane demanded.
Sep and Lucas had been relieved of their post at the jumping castle for a few minutes and saw the girls together.
‘Having fun?’ Sep asked.
Millie ignored him and glanced back towards the lake. What if she couldn’t find Alice-Miranda before the crooks left?
‘What’s wrong with you, Millie?’ asked Lucas.
‘We need to do something,’ she said. She hoped that Alice-Miranda hadn’t seen the criminals first, and tried to go after them on her own.
‘What are you talking about?’ Sloane huffed.
‘I think Alice-Miranda might be in trouble,’ said Millie. ‘Her father and uncle have been arrested.’
‘What?’ The kids were incredulous.
‘When and how?’ Lucas asked. ‘And why didn’t we know about this?’
Before Millie could explain, there was a burst of crackle from the PA system.
‘Good morning, everyone. What a fine day it is,’ blared Mr Lipp’s voice.
‘Turn it down, sunshine, we’re not deaf, you know,’ an elderly gentleman in the tent complained, rubbing his finger in his ear.
Mr Lipp cleared his throat. ‘Huhhrmm. I wanted to remind everyone that in just over half an hour’s time the Winchester-Fayle Singers, for whom I am the choirmaster, will be performing a medley of songs right here in the tea marquee. That’s also a reminder to the students that I will be expecting them for a little warm-up in ten minutes’ time.’
‘Ten minutes,’ Millie said. ‘We can’t wait until after we sing. The thieves will be gone by then and there’ll be no proof that it wasn’t Hugh and Ed who masterminded the whole thing.’
‘What should we do?’ Lucas asked.
‘We’ve got to catch them in the act,’ Millie said defiantly.
‘Okay,’ said Sep. ‘Let’s go down there and see what we can find out.’
Caprice walked into the marquee just as the five friends were heading towards the lake. ‘Where are they going?’ she mumbled to herself.
‘Excuse me, dear? Have you seen Millie?’ Mrs Von Thripp asked.
Caprice noticed Mr Plumpton sitting at a table nearby.
‘Oh, I’m sorry but I think she’s gone to play with her friends,’ Caprice said loudly. ‘But I can help you.’ She smiled sweetly at the old woman.
Mr Plumpton wondered what Caprice was talking about. Millie knew that she was to remain with her resident. This wasn’t meant to be a day off.
Alice-Miranda followed Mr Freeman through the kitchen into the butler’s pantry. She hoped that he hadn’t locked the door and she was in luck. She waited until she couldn’t see any torchlight and then tiptoed down the stairs. When she reached the bottom she pushed open the second door and slipped in among the bric-a-brac, treading a soft path to the vault.
Outside, Millie whispered what she knew about the stolen art and Hugh and Ed’s arrest to the other children as they scurried towards the summer house. They found a good vantage point to observe the building, and crouched behind some trees.
Two men went between the summer house and one of the trucks, loading a new painting into the truck each time. Each new deposit was stacked into a rack and covered with a blanket. They had a routine going, with one man heading in and the other heading out, so that the truck was manned at all times.
‘All right, Nigel, that’s nearly the last of the small stuff. I’ll need a hand with the next one,’ one of the men said to the other as they passed each other near the summer house door. They didn’t see the children crouched behind the trees just a few metres away.
‘I’ve got an idea,’ Sep whispered.
The children listened to his plan.
‘I think you’re mad, but it might just work,’ Lucas said with a grin.
The PA system crackled again.
‘Could all of the Winchester-Fayle Singers please join me in the tea marquee now?’ requested Mr Lipp testily.
The children looked at each other.
‘He’ll just have to make do without us,’ Jacinta said. ‘I’m not leaving you guys to do this on your own.’
The children huddled together.
‘Are we ready?’ Sep whispered.
The rest of the group nodded. ‘Ready.’
Sep and Lucas waited until the man walked up the ramp and into the truck to deposit another painting. Millie gave the nod and the boys unhooked the doors and swung them closed as quickly as they could.
‘Hey!’ What’s going on!’ the man demanded. ‘Jezza, are you out there? What are you doing? I can’t see anything. Help! Let me out of here!’
Lucas and Sep held the doors while Jacinta and Sloane pulled the pins down and locked them into place.
Millie snapped closed the padlock that had been left dangling on the door.
‘Come on, let’s go,’ said Lucas. He held the door open to the summer house. At the back of the building was an open trapdoor. It led down into a tunnel that must have run the length of the lawn to the house.
Back at the tea marquee, Mr Lipp’s voice burbled through the PA system once more. ‘Sep, Lucas, Jacinta, Millie, Sloane and Alice-Miranda, make your way to the tea marquee immediately. We are waiting for you.’
‘Caprice, did you see where they went?’ Mr Plumpton asked the girl, who was standing front and centre on the makeshift stage.
‘Yes, sir. They ran off towards the lake. I think they were going for a swim,’ she said, looking shocked at her own embellishment. The Queen’s Medal was hers for sure.
Miss Reedy approached Mr Plumpton. ‘Josiah, may I have a word?’
The pair walked outside.
‘I just heard Harry’s announcement. Something must have happened. This isn’t like that lot at all. Well, Sloane perhaps, and the old Jacinta, but the other four are very reliable. I’m worried. Millie abandoned Mrs Von Thripp quite some time ago and no one’s seen Alice-Miranda since first thing this morning. I don’t want to alarm anyone unnecessarily but I think you and I should go and see what we can find,’ Miss Reedy suggested.
Josiah nodded.
Mr Lipp turned around to see the two teachers leaving.
‘Where are they going?’ he huffed. The Queen would be at the fair in just over two hours and he had hoped that the singers would have a wonderful first performance as their rehearsal. Blow the lot of them. He’d just have to make do. He gave Mr Trout a nod.
Alice-Miranda took cover behind an old sideboard as she watched Donald Freeman turn th
e dial on the lock.
As he pulled on the door, he took a pen knife from his pocket with his other hand.
She wondered what to do next. She could run upstairs and call the police but she was more worried about what he planned to do with that knife. Surely he wouldn’t destroy the art. That would be terrible.
Alice-Miranda scurried across the room and peered around the iron door. Mr Freeman wouldn’t hurt her. He wasn’t a killer.
Donald Freeman was standing in front of one of the paintings, the knife blade poised on the corner of the frame.
‘Mr Freeman!’ she cried out. ‘Stop!’
From around the other side of the racks, a tall man with a shiny bald head rushed towards them. ‘Well, well, well, what ’ave we got ’ere? Donny Freeman, you silly old coot. Put that knife away.’
Alice-Miranda backed up. She was ready to make a run for it.
Donald dropped the knife and it clattered to the ground. ‘You! What are you doing here?’ he asked the bald man.
‘Takin’ what belongs to a friend of ours. Along with a bit of interest. Nige’ll be here shortly.’ He looked over Donald’s shoulder. ‘And who are you, princess?’
‘My name is Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones,’ she said defiantly. ‘And you won’t get away with this. It’s Jezza, isn’t it?’
The man’s mouth gaped open. How on earth did she know his name?
Donald Freeman turned around as if registering for the first time that Alice-Miranda was even there.
‘What are you going to do to stop us? You’re knee high to a grasshopper. Don’t think I won’t hurt you if you try anything funny,’ Jezza threatened.
Alice-Miranda ignored him and looked at Donald. ‘Mr Freeman, I don’t understand. Why? What were you going to do?’
Donald Freeman cupped his head in his hands. ‘The paintings. The frames were too heavy. I was just going to take them upstairs and keep them safe …’
From the far side of the room came the sound of running feet.
‘It’s about time, Nige,’ the tall man said. ‘We’ve got visitors.’
‘It’s not Nigel,’ Lucas shouted. Millie skidded in behind him, followed by Sep, Jacinta and Sloane. ‘He’s locked up. Same as you’re going to be soon.’
Alice-Miranda smiled at her friends. ‘Well done, Millie. They won’t get away with it now.’
‘I’ll deal with you lot,’ Jezza threatened. He looked at the children, then at the knife on the ground beside Donald, but Lucas saw it too.
‘What have I done?’ Mr Freeman gasped.
Quick as a flash, Lucas slid towards the pen knife and kicked it away. It clattered out of reach under one of the racks.
Jezza’s eyes were wild. ‘I’m not going back to prison,’ he yelled. ‘Not again! Get out of my way!’
Lucas got to his feet and together the children stood their ground.
‘Mr Freeman, get out of here,’ Alice-Miranda urged.
But the old man rushed towards Jezza and barged into him as hard as he could. The children rushed forward, pushing the thief into the cellar.
‘Quickly,’ Alice-Miranda urged. ‘Help me!’
She, Lucas and Jacinta pulled on the vault door. Alice-Miranda spun the dial, trapping Jezza in the cellar with them. Donald Freeman collapsed onto a threadbare sofa in the corner, gasping for air.
‘What are you doing?’ Jezza growled as he regained his balance. ‘Let me out of here.’
Alice-Miranda shook her head. ‘You’re not going anywhere.’
‘What’s the combination, you little brat?’
‘As if she’s going to tell you!’ Jacinta yelled.
Alice-Miranda knew that if he couldn’t get out through the vault he’d make a run for the cellar door. She motioned at Sep as if she was pushing something. He wondered what she was getting at until he spotted the giant beast on the other side of the room.
The lad raced towards the bear.
Jezza’s eyes scanned the room. On the other side he spotted the door to freedom. He made a break for it.
But Sep was ready. The lad gave an almighty push and the polar bear began to wobble.
‘Ahhhhh!’ Jezza cried as the bear lunged towards him. ‘Get away from me.’ The beast crashed down, pinning the crook to the ground. ‘Help me! Help!’ Jezza wailed.
‘Alice-Miranda, Millie, are you in there?’ It was Miss Reedy on the other side of the vault door. Somehow she’d found the tunnel entrance.
Alice-Miranda ran to door and spun the dial.
Miss Reedy hurried out of the vault with Mr Plumpton behind her.
‘Oh my heavens, what’s going on?’ the man cried. He spied Jezza’s arms and legs flailing about underneath the bear. ‘And who’s that?’
Before the children could answer, the cellar door opened and revealed Fenella Freeman. ‘What’s all this?’ she gasped.
Ed Clifton, Hugh Kennington-Jones and Cecelia Highton-Smith followed her.
‘Daddy!’ Alice-Miranda cried out and rushed over to embrace her parents and uncle. ‘Mummy, how did you get them out of jail?’
‘Get this thing off me!’ Jezza yelled.
‘Who is that?’ Fenella demanded.
Alice-Miranda looked up at her. ‘Detective Freeman, we know who stole the artworks.’
‘What? How? It was your father and his brother. I know it was them.’
Cecelia eyeballed the woman. ‘No, you don’t, and that’s why the judge gave them bail.’
‘That man under Sidney works for Addison Goldsworthy. His name’s Jezza and he’s got an offsider called Nigel,’ Alice-Miranda explained.
‘And you’ll find Nigel locked in the back of a truck by the summer house, along with a whole lot of paintings,’ Sep added.
‘They’ve been stealing paintings and bringing them here for storage. It’s been happening for years,’ said Alice-Miranda. ‘There’s a tunnel from the summer house and it leads into the vault.’
Fenella Freeman could hardly believe the tale. And it was about to get a whole lot worse.
Over in the corner, Donald Freeman stood up from the sofa.
Fenella covered her mouth. ‘Dad, what are you doing down here?’
The old man hesitated. ‘It was me, Fen,’ he said, his voice trembling. ‘I started it.’
The children and adults walked towards him.
‘What? What are you talking about?’ asked Fenella.
‘Years ago, when one of my clients couldn’t afford to pay me, he said he’d do whatever he could do. Well, he had a Turner. That’s what he could do. And then there was a Constable and a Monet and there were ten in all. Ten works I adored.’ The old man’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I told you I’d own them one day.’
‘How could you?’ Fenella demanded. She ran towards him. Ed caught her before she could inflict her wrath. ‘But why were they here? How?’ she cried.
Alice-Miranda rushed to the man’s side. Donald gulped.
Fenella took a deep breath. ‘Now, I see. This is why you wanted to live at Pelham Park?’
Donald nodded. ‘I could come and see my paintings any time I wanted.’
‘But how did you know about the vault?’ Hugh asked.
Alice-Miranda answered for him. ‘It was Grandpa, wasn’t it? He was your friend, the one you called Harry. His name was Henry but Harry must have been his nickname as a boy. He was the one who showed you how to get in and out of the house.’
‘I don’t understand how Addison Goldsworthy fits into the picture. How did he know about the vault too?’ asked Cee.
‘Nigel and Jezza used to make deliveries for me. When I retired, they went to work elsewhere. Goldsworthy must have had the same sort of needs,’ Donald Freeman said slowly. ‘I imagine they just kept bringing things here for storage. I wondered why there were paintings I couldn’t quite place – I just thought it was my mind playing tricks on me.’ The old man brushed the tears from his eyes.
Alice-Miranda reached out to hold his wrinkled hand.
‘You took the blame, didn’t you?’
‘The blame for what?’ Fenella demanded. She was completely confused.
‘You and Grandpa Henry were great friends but then Grandpa shot his father’s prized stallion by accident, didn’t he?’ Alice-Miranda began. ‘And he made you take the blame. You went to a boys’ home and your father was dismissed from his position as the butler.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Fenella gasped. She’d never heard any of this before.
Cecelia could barely believe her ears either. ‘But darling, how did you know that?’
‘I found Mr Freeman’s father’s employment records in the attic when Uncle Ed and I were looking for the receipts. Part of the record was missing and I knew something wasn’t right. When Mr Freeman was upset earlier in the week, he had remembered something. He said that it wasn’t his fault. That Harry had made him do it.’
‘I’m still here if you haven’t noticed, being squashed by a ten-tonne bear,’ Jezza moaned.
‘Put a sock in it,’ Ed snapped.
‘It still doesn’t explain why you stored the art here,’ Hugh said, turning back to Donald.
‘I always thought that if it was found, your father would get the blame. After what he did, that was fine by me. But then when he died, I just left it here. I had nowhere else to keep it. When the house was transformed, and I got the chance to come and live here, it was perfect. I came down almost every night. I could see my beautiful paintings. Before then, I used to park by the summer house and sneak in after dark. But I was getting much too old for that.’
‘Surely you knew that we’d find them one day,’ said Hugh.
‘I thought I’d be dead by then. But when Alice-Miranda told me your brother was here and then Fen mentioned the Turner, I knew I couldn’t leave them any longer. If I let you take the blame then I’d be no better than your father. I was going to take them upstairs last night and hide them in my apartment but I couldn’t lift them in their frames. I was going to leave you this when I died, so you’d know what to do with them.’ Donald pulled a small leather-bound book from his trouser pocket. Hugh reached forward and took it.
‘That’s why you had the knife,’ Alice-Miranda said.
Alice-Miranda at Camp 10 Page 18
