Mystery of the Burnt Cottage tffabtd-1

by Энид Блайтон

  "Well, clear orf, then," growled the policeman. "I've got work to do here — serious work, and I don't want children messing about, either."

  "Are you looking for glues?" asked Bets, and immediately got such a nudge from Pip that she almost fell over.

  Luckily Clear-Orf took no notice of this remark. He hustled the children out of the gate and up the lane. "And don't you come messing about here again.," he said.

  "Messing about!" said Larry indignantly, as they all went off up the lane. "That's all he thinks children do — mess about. If he knew what we'd discovered this morning, he'd go green in the face!"

  "Would he really?" said Bets, interested. "I'd like to see him."

  "You nearly made me go green in the face when you asked old Clear-Orf if he was looking for clues!" said Pip crossly. "I thought the very next minute you'd say we had been looking for some and found them, too! That's the worst of having a baby like you in the Find-Outers!"

  "I would not have said we'd found anything," said Bets, almost in tears. "Oh, look — there's Fatty. We'd better warn him that Clear-Orf is down there."

  They stopped Fatty and warned him. He decided to go down and do his measuring and copying later on. He didn't at all like Clear-Orf. Neither did Buster.

  "It's tea-time, anyway," said Larry, looking at his watch. "Meet tomorrow morning at ten o'clock in Pip's summer-house. We've done awfully well today. I'll write up notes about all our clues. This is really getting very exciting!"

  Fatty and Larry Learn a Few Things

  At ten o'clock the next morning the five children and Buster were once again in the old summer-house. Fatty looked important. He produced an enormous sheet of paper on which he had drawn the right and left footprint, life-size, with all its criss-cross markings on the rubber sole. It was really very good. The others stared at it. "Not bad, is it?" said Fatty, swelling up with importance, and, as usual, making a impression on the others by boasting. "Didn't I tell you I was good at drawing?"

  Larry nudged Pip and whispered in his ear. "Pull his leg a bit," he said. Pip grinned, and wondered what Larry was going to do. Larry took the drawing and looked at it solemnly.

  "Quite good, except that I think you've got the tail a bit wrong," he said. Pip joined in at once.

  "Well, I think the ears are the wrong shape too," he said. At least, the one on the right is."

  Fatty gaped, and looked at his drawing to make sure it was the right one. Yes — it was a copy of the footprints all right. Then what were Larry and Pip talking about?

  "Of course, they say that hands are the most difficult things to draw," said Larry, looking at the drawing carefully again, his head on one side. "Now, I think Fatty ought to learn a bit more about hands."

  Daisy tried to hide a giggle. Bets was most amazed, and looked at the drawing, trying to discover the tail, ears and hands that Larry and Pip were so unaccountably chatting about. Fatty went purple with rage.

  "I suppose you think you're being funny again," he said, snatching the drawing out of Larry's hand. "You know quite well this is a copy of the footprints."

  "Golly! So that's what it is!" said Pip, in an amazed voice. "Of course! Larry, how could we have thought they were anything else?"

  Daisy went off into a squeal of laughter. Fatty folded up the paper and looked thoroughly offended. Buster jumped up on to his knees and licked his master's nose.

  Bets put everything right in her simple manner. "Well!" she said, astonished, "it was all a joke, wasn't it, Larry? I looked at that drawing and I could quite well see it was a really marvellous copy of those footprints we saw. I couldn't imagine what you and Pip were talking about. Fatty, I wish I could draw as well as you can!"

  Fatty had got up to go, but now he sat down again. The others grinned. It was a shame to tease poor old Fatty, but really he did have such a very good opinion of himself!

  "I've just shortly written down a few notes about yesterday," said Larry, drawing a small notebook out of his pocket. He opened it and read quickly the list of clues they already had. He held out his hand for Fatty's drawing.

  "I think it had better go with the notes.," he said. "I'll keep both the notes and the drawings and the scrap of grey cloth somewhere carefully together, because they may soon become important. Where shall we keep them?"

  "There's a loose board just behind you in the wall of the summer-house," said Pip eagerly. "I used to hide things there when I was little like Bets. It would be a fine place to put anything now — no one would ever think of looking there."

  He showed the others the loose board. Buster was most interested in it, stood up on the bench and scraped hard at it.

  "He thinks there's a rabbit behind it," said Bets.

  The notebook, the match-box with the grey rag, and Fatty's drawing were carefully put behind the loose board, which was then dragged into place again. All the children felt pleased to have a hidey-hole like that.

  "Now what are our plans for today?" said Pip. "We must get on with the solving of the mystery, you know. We don't want the police to find out everything before we do!"

  "Well, one or more of us must interview Mrs. Minns, the cook," said Larry. He saw that Bets did not understand what "interviewing" was, "That means we must go and see what the cook has to say about the matter," he explained. Bets nodded.

  "I could do that," she said.

  "You!" said Pip scornfully. "You'd tell her right out all that we had done and found and everything! You can't even keep the very smallest secret!"

  "I don't tell secrets now," said Bets. "You know I don't. I haven't told a single secret since I was six years old."

  "Shut up, you two," said Larry. "I think Daisy and Pip might go and see Mrs. Minns. Daisy is good at that sort of thing, and Pip can keep a look out to see that Clear-Orf or Mr. Hick don't come along and guess what Daisy is doing."

  "What shall I do, Larry?" asked Fatty, quite humbly, for once in a way.

  "You and I could go and talk to the chauffeur," said Larry. "He might let out something that would be useful to us. He usually washes down the car in the morning."

  "What about me?" said Bets, in dismay. "Aren't I to do anything? I'm a Find-Outer too."

  "There's nothing you can do," said Larry.

  Bets looked very miserable. Fatty was sorry for her. "We shan't want Buster with us," he said. "Do you think you could take him for a walk over the fields? He just loves a good rabbitty walk."

  "Oh yes, I could do that," said Bets, brightening up at once. "I should like that. And, you never know, I might find a glue on the way."

  Everyone laughed. Bets simply could not remember the way to pronounce that word. "Yes — you go and find a really important glue," said Larry. So Bets set off with Buster at her heels. She went down the lane towards the fields, and the others heard her telling Buster that he could look for rabbits and she would look for glues.

  "Now then, to work!" said Larry, getting up. "Daisy, you and Pip go down to Mrs. Minns." "What excuse shall we give for going to see her?" asked Daisy.

  "Oh, you must think of something yourself," said Larry. "Use your brains. That's what detectives do. Pip will think of something, if you can't."

  "Better not all go down the lane together," said Pip. "You and Fatty go first, and see if you can find the chauffeur at work, and Daisy and I will come a bit later." Larry and Fatty went off. They walked down the lane and came to Mr. Hick's house, which stood a good way back in its own drive. The garage was at the side of the house. A loud whistling came from that direction., and the sound of water.

  "He's washing the car," said Larry, in a low voice. "Come on. We'll pretend we want to see someone who doesn't live here, and then ask if he'd like us to help him."

  The boys went down the drive together. They soon came in sight of the garage, and Larry went up to the young man who was hosing the car.

  "Morning," he said. "Does Mrs. Thompson live here?"

  "No," said the young man. "This is Mr. Hick's house."

 
"Oh," said Larry, in a vexed tone. Then he stared at the car.

  "That's a fine car, isn't it?" he said.

  "Yes, it's a Rolls Royce," said the chauffeur. "Fine to drive. She's very dirty today, though. I've got all my work cut out to get her clean before the master wants her this morning!"

  "We'll help you," said Larry eagerly. "I'll hose her for you. I often do it for my father."

  In less than a minute the two boys were at work helping the young chauffeur, and the talk turned on to the fire.

  "Funny business that fire," said the chauffeur, rubbing the bonnet of the car with a polishing cloth. "The master was properly upset about losing those valuable papers of his. And now they say it was a put-up job — some one did it on purpose! Well — Peeks did say that it was a wonder no one had given Mr. Hick a slap in the face for the way he treats everybody!"

  "Who's Peeks?" said Larry, pricking up his ears.

  "Peeks was his man-servant — sort of valet and secretary mixed," said the chauffeur. "He's gone now — went off the day of the fire."

  "Why did he go?" asked Fatty innocently.

  "Got kicked out!" said the chauffeur. "Mr. Hick gave him his money, and he went! My word, there was a fine old quarrel between them, too!"

  "Whatever about?" said Larry.

  "Well, it see his that Mr. Hick found out that Peeks sometimes wore his clothes," said the chauffeur. "You see, he and the master were much of a size, and Peeks used to fancy himself a bit — I've seen him prance out in Mr. Hick's dark blue suit, and his blue tie with the red spots, and his gold-topped stick too!"

  "Oh," said Fatty. "And I suppose when Mr. Hick found that out he was angry and told Peeks to go. Was Peeks very upset?"

  "You bet he was!" said the chauffeur. "He came out to me, and the things he said about the master would make anybody's ears burn. Then off he went about eleven o'clock. His old mother lives in the next village, and I guess she was surprised to see Horace Peeks marching in, baggage and all, at that time of the morning!"

  The two boys were each thinking the same thing. "It looks as if Peeks burnt the cottage! We must find Peeks and see what he was doing that evening!"

  There came a roar from a window overhead. "Thomas! Is that car done yet? What are you jabbering about down there? Do I pay you for jabbering? No, I do not."

  "That's the master," said Thomas, in a low tone. "You'd better clear out. Thanks for your help."

  The boys looked up at the window. Mr. Hick stood there, a cup of tea or cocoa in his hand, looking down furiously.

  "Mr. Hick and cup," said Larry, with a giggle. "Dear old good-tempered Hiccup!"

  Fatty exploded into a laugh. "We'll call him Hiccup," he said. "I say — we've got some news this morning, haven't we! I bet it was Peeks, Larry. I bet it was!"

  "I wonder how Daisy and Pip are getting on," said Larry, as they went down the drive. "I believe I can hear them chattering away somewhere. I guess they won't have such exciting news as we have!"

  Mrs. Minns does a lot of Talking

  Daisy and Pip were getting on very well indeed. As they had stood outside Mr. Hick's garden, debating what excuse they could make for going to the kitchen door, they had heard a little mew.

  Daisy looked to see where the sound came from. "Did you hear that?" she asked Pip. The mew came again. Both children looked up into a tree, and there, unable to get down or up, was a small black and white kitten.

  "It's got stuck," said Daisy. "Pip, can you climb up and get it?"

  Pip could and did. Soon he was handing down the little creature to Daisy, and she cuddled it against her.

  "Where does it belong? " she wondered.

  "Probably to Mrs. Minns, the cook," said Pip promptly. "Anyway, it will make a marvellous excuse for going to the kitchen door, and asking!"

  "Yes, it will," said Daisy, pleased. So the two of them set off down the drive, and went to the kitchen entrance, which was on the opposite side of the house to the garage.

  A girl of about sixteen was sweeping the yard, and from the kitchen nearby there came a never-ending voice.

  "And don't you leave any bits of paper flying around my yard, either, Lily. Last time you swept that yard you left a broken bottle there, and half a newspaper and goodness knows what else! Why your mother didn't teach you how to sweep and dust and bake, I don't know! Women nowadays just leave their daughters to be taught by such as me, that's got all their work cut out looking after a particular gentleman like Mr. Hick, without having to keep an eye on a lazy girl like you!"

  This was all said without a single pause. The girl did not seem to be paying any attention at all, but went on sweeping slowly round the yard, the dust flying before her.

  "Hallo," said Pip. "Does this kitten belong here?"

  "Mrs. Minns!" shouted the girl. "Here's some children with the kitten."

  Mrs. Minns appeared at the door. She was a round, fat woman, short and panting, with sleeves rolled up above her podgy elbows.

  "Is this your kitten?" asked Pip again, and Daisy held it out to show the cook.

  "Now where did it get to this time?" said Mrs. Minns, taking it, and squeezing it against her. "Sweetie! Sweetie! Here's your kitten again! Why don't you look after it better?"

  A large black and white cat strolled out of the kitchen, and looked inquiringly at the kitten. The kitten mewed and tried to jump down.

  "Take your kitten, Sweetie," said Mrs. Minns. She put it down and it ran to its mother.

  "Isn't it exactly like its mother?" said Daisy.

  "She's got two more," said Mrs. Minns. "You come in and see them. Dear little sweets! Dogs I can't bear, but give me a cat and kittens and I'm happy."

  The two children went into the kitchen. The big black and white cat had got into a basket, and the children saw three black and white kittens there too, all exactly alike.

  "Oh, can I stay and play with them a bit?" asked Daisy, thinking it would be a marvellous excuse to stop and talk to Mrs. Minns.

  "So long as you don't get into my way," said Mrs. Minns, dumping down a tin of flour on the table. She was going to make pastry. "Where do you live?"

  "Not far away, just up the lane," answered Pip. "We saw the fire the other night."

  That set Mrs. Minns off at once. She put her hands on her hips and nodded her head till her fat cheeks shook.

  "What a shock that was!" she said. "My word, when I saw what was happening, anyone could have knocked me down with a feather."

  Both the children felt certain that nothing short of a bar of iron would ever knock fat Mrs. Minas over. Daisy stroked the kittens whilst the cook went on with her talk, quite forgetting about the pastry.

  "I was sitting here in my kitchen, treating myself to a cup of cocoa, and telling my sister this, that and the other," she said. "I was tired with turning out the larders that day, and glad enough to sit and rest my bones. And suddenly my sister says to me, 'Maria! she says, el smell burning!"

  The children stared at her, Mrs., Minns was pleased to have such an interested audience.

  "I said to Hannah — that's my sister — I said 'Something burning! That's not the soup catching in the saucepan surely? And Hannah says, 'Maria, there's something burning terrible! And then I looked out of the window and I saw something flaring up at the bottom of the garden!"

  "What a shock for you!" said Daisy.

  " 'Well, I says to my sister, 'it looks as if the master's workroom is on fire! Glory be! I says. 'What a day this has been! First Mr. Peeks gets tie sack and walks out, baggage and all. Then Mr. Smellie comes along and he and the master go for one another, hammer and tongs! Then that dirty old tramp comes and the master catches him stealing eggs from the henhouse! And now if we haven't got a fire!"

  The two children listened intently. All this was news to them. Goodness! There seemed to have been quite a lot of quarrels and upsets on the day of the fire. Pip asked who Mr. Peeks was.

  "He was the master's man-servant and secretary," said Mr. Minns. "Stuck-up piece of good
s he was. I never had much time for him myself. Good thing he went, I say. And I shouldn't be surprised if he had something to do with that fire either!"

  But here Lily had something to say. "Mr. Peeks was far too much of a gentleman to do a thing like that," she said, clattering her broom into a comer. "If you ask me, it's old Mr. Smellie."

  The children could hardly believe that any one could be called by such a name. "Is that his real name?" asked Pip.

  "It surely is," said Mrs. Minns, "and a dirty neglected old fellow he is too! What his housekeeper can be about, I don't know. She doesn't mend him up at all — sends him out with holes in his socks, and rents in his clothes, and his hat wanting brushing. He's a learned old gentleman, too, so they say, and knows more about old books and things than almost any one in the kingdom."

  "Why did he and Mr. Hick quarrel?" asked Pip.

  "Goodness knows!" said Mrs. Minns. "Always quarrelling, they are. They both know a lot, but they don't agree about what they know. Anyway, old Mr. Smellie, he walks out of the house muttering and grumbling, and bangs the door behind him so hard that my saucepans almost jump off the stove! But as for him firing the cottage, as Lily says, don't you believe a word of it! It's my belief he wouldn't know how to set light to a bonfire! It's that stuck-up Mr. Peeks who'd be spiteful enough to pay Mr. Hick back, you mark my words!"

  "He would not," said Lily, who seemed determined to stick up for the valet. "He's a nice young man, he is. You've no right to say things like that, Mrs. Minns."

  "Now, look here, my girl! " said the cook, getting angry, "if you think you can talk like that to your elders and betters, you're mistaken! Telling me I've no right to say this, that and the other! You just wait till you can scrub a floor properly, and dust the tops of the pictures, and see a cobweb when it's staring you in the face, before you begin to talk big to me!"

  "I wasn't talking big," said poor Lily. "All I said was…"

  "Now don't you start all over again!" said Mrs. Minns, thumping on the table with the rolling-pin as if she was hitting poor Lily on the head with it "You go and get me the dripping, if you can find out where you put it yesterday. And no more back-chat from you, if you please!"