by F. C. Shaw
“Don’t be cheeky!” Mrs. Wilson scolded.
“Nonsense! I appreciate his candor.” Auntie Ei rolled her eyes sarcastically.
Rollie took a bite of hash browns, his only breakfast ever, and asked, “Dad, may I be excused? I need to use the loo.”
Mr. Wilson nodded without glancing up from his newspaper. “More unseasonable snow predicted for the next few days.”
Rollie left the dining room, avoiding Auntie Ei’s suspicious look. He jogged upstairs, but instead of going to the bathroom, he stopped by Auntie Ei’s bedroom. He rarely entered her bedroom, and only by invitation. His heart pounded, and he almost walked away. But a desperate curiosity to know more about that letter urged him to turn the doorknob.
Quietly, he slipped into the room, and rummaged through her desk. He carefully moved around the mail, pens, ink well, blotter, and stationery. There was no trace of the letter from Headmaster Yardsly. Had Auntie Ei hidden it away, thinking he had found it earlier? He did find lots of newspaper clippings stuffed in the pigeonholes. The initials MUS caught his attention.
Jewel Thief Strikes Again! Believed to be Tied to MUS!
King’s Cross Murder Believed to Be the Work of MUS!
Tourists Warned to Guard Their Pockets Against MUS Pick-Pocketers in Trafalgar Square!
Scotland Yard Doubles Efforts to Track Down MUS Spies Near Baker Street.
“ROLLIN! HOW DARE YOU SEARCH THROUGH MY PERSONAL PROPERTY!”
Rollie jumped and his stomach flipped.
“I respect you as a detective, but you have crossed a line—invading my private bedroom! What are you searching for?”
Rollie gulped. “A letter you have from Headmaster Yardsly. It’s about me.”
Auntie Ei’s mouth tightened and she narrowed her eyes, defining her wrinkles even more. “Why do you want that letter?”
“Because it’s about me! You’re keeping secrets from me! Why?”
“There are many secrets I am obliged to keep, and some of them do concern you. I will share them with you all in good time.” Auntie Ei drew herself up. “Now is not the time.”
“I don’t understand you.” Rollie could feel his face heating up with anger and his heart pounding with hurt. “I hate that you keep secrets from me.”
“That makes no difference to me.” Her shoulders twitched as if she almost shrugged, but she resisted the unladylike behavior. “I believe you owe me an apology for ransacking my desk.”
Rollie knew she was right, but he was not about to let her get away so easily. “I deserve to know your secrets about me.”
Auntie Ei practically glared at him. “As your elder, I am not obligated to disclose anything to you, nor do you deserve any explanation. Do you understand, young man?”
Rollie huffed, and before he could stop himself, he shot back, “Yes, old woman!”
He ran out and stomped upstairs to his room. While Stewart could get away with snide remarks, he knew he could not due to the special bond he shared with Auntie Ei. He was out of line calling her old woman and searching her bedroom; he could hardly believe he had just done both. But he did not return to apologize, for she had insulted his judgment as a detective and had hurt him with her secrecy.
Rollie stayed in his room while the rest of the family finished breakfast. He had no appetite, and he could not face Auntie Ei at the table. To pass the time, he checked on the vacant house. He made his bed and tidied the room. After getting dressed, he sat on the floor and updated his bookshelf. He took two Hardy Boys books off his shelf marked Excellent Books, My Favorites. This made room for his new Sherlockian Encyclopedia from Auntie Ei.
He frowned.
Finally, his growling stomach drove him in search of lunch downstairs. As he neared the kitchen, he heard a commotion of slamming doors, stamping feet, and appalled voices. In the kitchen, he was shocked at the group of people he found there—one person in particular.
Outsmarting MUS
“Wesley!” Rollie tackled his friend.
“Hallo, mate!” Wesley laughed. The tall fourteen-year-old boy flashed a smile of perfect teeth, and pulled his blue knit cap off his short brown hair. On his brow, he sported a fresh bump. “Happy Christmas!”
Rollie pointed to the bruise. “What happened to your forehead?”
“From the attack.” Wesley’s deep brown eyes revealed a tinge of fear.
“What attack?” Rollie asked. “What’s going on? Why are you here?”
Wesley was not alone. With him was a man dressed in a long, black coat. He stood at an average height, and even in his winter coat, he was slim. An aged scar on his right cheek drew most of Rollie’s attention. He kept peeking out the kitchen window, barely separating the curtains. His beady eyes swiftly swept the back garden then turned to scope the kitchen.
“Who are you?” Mrs. Wilson demanded of the young man.
“I am Euston Hood. I work with Sullivan Yardsly.” Euston handed Mrs. Wilson a slip of paper. “A few instructions from Headmaster Yardsly.”
Mrs. Wilson read the brief note and turned to Rollie. “Your headmaster would like us to board Wesley for safekeeping.”
“Can he stay, Mum?” Rollie asked excitedly.
“I suppose, although I don’t quite understand everything. Let me tell your father . . . Peter!” She went in search of her husband.
Euston turned to the two boys. “Wesley, you will stay with the Wilsons and return to school on January eighteenth. If there is any trouble, contact the Academy. Rollin—”
“Call me Rollie.”
“Thanks. I would advise you to keep to the house. Don’t take Wesley into the city.”
“What about Winter Cleaning tomorrow?” Rollie asked. “At school?”
Euston looked confused. “I don’t know anything about that, but if you’re only going to the Academy and back, I’m sure that would be fine.”
“Does Headmaster have any clues to find Herr Zilch?”
“We’ve confirmed Wesley’s attack did come from MUS,” Euston answered, lowering his voice. “Headmaster is following up a lead in Brighton and Hove. I must catch the next train from Victoria Station to meet him there. We’ll be in touch.” He nodded curtly and stepped to the door. After a careful look outside, he slipped out of the house.
“I’m so glad you’re staying with us,” Rollie told his friend.
“Me too! It will be way more fun than being home alone.” Wesley picked up his suitcase and followed Rollie upstairs to his bedroom. “And I’ll feel safer.”
“Tell me about the attack.”
Wesley opened his suitcase while Rollie cleared out a drawer in his bureau.
“I’ve never been more scared before in my life!” Wesley admitted.
“What happened?”
“Let me begin by first explaining what happened before Christmas vacation. My parents were really concerned about everything that happened in October. I had to beg them to let me stay enrolled at Sherlock Academy. They weren’t sure it was the best place for me anymore. But Headmaster argued for me. He assured my parents that he would do everything to keep me safe and that it would be a great loss for me and everyone else if I dropped out. So Mother and Father agreed to let me stay in school.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I would miss you a lot, and so would the rugby and fencing teams.”
“Thanks, mate,” Wesley said. “Which reminds me: I can’t forget to turn in my tuition money for this next semester. Did you mail yours in or give it to Headmaster?”
Rollie shrugged. “Someone else has been paying my tuition—someone anonymous. It’s very mysterious.”
“That is mysterious. Anyways, Christmas vacation came. And there was a big debate over what to do with me. Headmaster thought I should stay at school all vacation to be safe from MUS and under his watchful eye. My parents thought I’d be safer at
home under their watchful eyes. I didn’t really know where I’d be safer—I just knew I’d be bored at either place with all my friends gone home. Finally, Headmaster consented to my going home, and my parents consented to having Euston come along to keep an eye on me.
“The first couple days home, everything seemed fine. My parents and I got ready for Christmas. My older sister, Olivia, came home from Cambridge. Euston kept watch. Then a few days before Christmas, something strange happened. Well, it seemed normal at first but turned out to be strange.
“We noticed a uniformed policeman patrolling the street corner a few houses down from us. We had never seen a bobby there before, so we mentioned it to Euston. He promised to keep an eye on him. My father thought perhaps because it was Christmas, the police were keeping an extra watchful eye on our neighborhood to ward off thieves. The bobby would stand on the corner for a few hours, leave for a few hours, then return for a few more hours. His schedule seemed very erratic. Finally on Christmas Eve, Euston decided to confront the bobby.
“As Euston headed down the sidewalk toward him, the bobby quickly left his corner. Euston wanted to follow him but knew it was more important to guard us. So he returned to our house. He telephoned the local police station and asked about the bobby. The police station denied sending anyone to patrol our neighborhood. That’s when we knew this so-called bobby was an imposter. And, of course, we guessed he was an MUS agent.
“Christmas came and went without interruption. On Boxing Day, Olivia left to meet some friends in Greece on holiday. Father and Mother got called back to Belgium for their export-import business—they’re business partners, so they always travel together. They wanted me to go with them. I didn’t really want to—it’s so dull traveling with them when they’re on business. I was glad that Euston agreed I should stay because it would be harder for him to watch over me while traveling. So my parents reluctantly left me at home with Euston.
“We hadn’t seen any sign of that bobby since he ran away from Euston. So Euston and I started to feel better. He joined me for meals, and he played a game of chess with me once. I also learned something very interesting about him—remind me to tell you when I’m done with this story. Most of the time, he was out keeping watch, which meant I was cooped up inside without much to do.
“Yesterday Headmaster rang me to see how things were going. He invited me to go back to the Academy while my parents were away. He said I could hang out with Rupert and Margot and help with some odd jobs around the school. That sounded way more fun than what I was doing at home—which was nothing. Euston agreed to take me to London that very morning.
“And that’s when the attack happened. Euston wanted to send my parents a telegram about what we were doing. I still needed to pack. Euston didn’t want to leave me, but I assured him I would be fine. The telegraph office was just down the street. Besides, we hadn’t seen anything suspicious since that bobby ran away.
“A few minutes after Euston left, there was a knock on the front door. I peeked through the window beside the door and didn’t see anyone outside, but I saw a package on the front porch. I opened the door and read the label. It was addressed to my next-door neighbor, Mr. Twiddle. It had accidentally been delivered to my house instead—this has happened before.
“Since I was leaving, I thought I had better deliver it to Mr. Twiddle. Otherwise he would never get it. I took the package next door and left it on his doormat. On my way back home, a black auto suddenly stopped next to me. Two men leapt out and tried to drag me into the back seat! I hit my head on the car as they tried to force me in.”
“What did you do?” Rollie asked, wide-eyed.
“I gave one of them a rugby head-butt, and the other I kicked in the shins. I don’t think they were expecting a fight from me. They loosened their grip on me for a second—that’s all I needed! I ran away as fast as I could.
“Behind me, I could hear their footsteps chasing after me, and I heard the car’s tires screech as it joined in the chase. I reached my house, barged in, and locked the door behind me. I stood frozen in the hall, my heart pounding. I wasn’t sure my locked front door was enough to keep them out. They seemed desperate to get me.
“I waited a few seconds but didn’t hear anything. Finally I got up the courage to peek through the window. The black car was gone, and so were the two men in suits. Instead Euston was running up to my front door.
“He banged on the door. ‘Mr. Livingston, are you in there? Are you alright?’ he shouted.
“I had never heard him shout before or heard such panic in his voice. I quickly threw open the door and assured him I was fine. He pointed out my bruised forehead.”
Wesley fingered the bump.
“It was MUS. Euston said that just as he came out of the telegraph office. He saw the car and the men in suits chasing me. As he ran after the men, they hopped into the car and sped off. He decided it was more important to check on me than to pursue the car. Neither of us could read the license plates.
“Euston immediately rang Headmaster. They both agreed that my life was in more danger than they had anticipated. They agreed that not even Sherlock Academy would be safe enough for me—and staying home was not an option. That’s when Headmaster came up with the idea for me to stay with you. I have to say, I got really excited about staying with you!
“Euston and I boarded the express train for London. Euston never left my side and was more watchful than ever. I finally realized what a good secret agent he is. When we got to London, we switched taxis and buses as well as changed routes and directions several times. I started to get dizzy! Finally we reached the Primrose Hill suburbs and I knew we were close to your house. The taxi let us out down the street, and we walked the rest of the way here. Euston’s eyes were everywhere, and his grip never let go of my shoulder. We sneaked through your garden gate and Euston covered our tracks in the snow. I felt relief when we entered your kitchen. And here I am for your safekeeping.
“I told you Herr Zilch would come for me. I’m still so sorry, Rollie.”
“For what?” Rollie asked.
“This is all my fault,” Wesley said. “If I hadn’t been so gullible enough to be used by Zilch, you wouldn’t have had to stop me. And I wouldn’t be putting you in danger with me.”
“I would have stopped Zilch’s mole no matter who it had been,” Rollie replied. “I would still be in this danger whether you were involved or not.”
Wesley nodded. “I’m just having a hard time letting it all go.”
“You can’t let the past drag you down.” Rollie patted his shoulder. “Why do you think Zilch wants to kidnap you?”
Wesley threw up his hands in exasperation. “Revenge! To get back at me for betraying him. Why else? He can’t be afraid of my letting out his secrets—I don’t know anything!”
“Are you scared?”
Wesley frowned. “To be totally honest with you, I am now. Zilch seems to be everywhere and seems to know everything. That scares me. How about you?”
“Back in October, I made a promise to myself to stop him no matter the cost. I felt pretty brave. Now I’m not so sure of myself. My great-aunt who I thought believed in me as a detective has turned out to think the opposite about me. And now you’ve had a close call with MUS.”
Wesley gripped Rollie’s shoulder. “Well, at least we’re in this together, right, mate?”
“Right!” Rollie grinned. “So what did you learn about Euston?”
“When we played chess, it was the first time he rolled up his sleeves. I noticed he was wearing a leather wristband with a strange symbol etched on it. I asked him about it. He told me he belongs to an undercover society that had been established to specifically fight MUS.”
“Really? What’s the secret society called?”
Wesley grinned. “The Holmes Brigade.”
Return of the Prowler
Rollie perk
ed with interest. “The Holmes Brigade! Who’s in it? What are their duties?”
Wesley shrugged. “Euston didn’t say much—one of his annoying habits. But I definitely plan on asking him more about it. So what did you get for Christmas?”
Rollie showed him his new rugby ball from his father, a Holmes-like coat his mother had sewn, and the Sherlockian Encyclopedia from his great-aunt. Wesley was interested in all three gifts.
“Nice ball for some rugby drills. I gotta whip you back into shape, mate.” Wesley always looked for opportunities to improve Rollie’s skills in rugby. “This coat matches your deerstalker hat.”
“Yep, my mum was able to find similar fabric to match it.” Rollie put on his Holmes hat that he had received as a special award from Yardsly for stopping Herr Zilch the first time.
Wesley sat on the edge of Rollie’s bed and untied his black Converse sneakers. “It wasn’t snowing in Brighton, so I didn’t think of wearing my boots. These need to dry.”
“I haven’t been able to wear my Converse you gave me since we’ve been on holiday. We haven’t had snow like this in ages!”
Wesley ran his eyes over Rollie’s desk crammed with spying tools. “So, detective, are there any cases you’re working on right now?”
“Well . . . ” Rollie filled Wesley in on what he and Cecily had been secretly working on regarding Zilch’s list of agents and headquarters, and the prowler at the vacant house. He decided to also tell him about his fight with Auntie Ei, just so Wesley would know why he was not talking to the elderly woman.
“Hallo, detectives,” Cecily announced as she entered Rollie’s room. “Wesley, what are you doing here?”
“Staying here for safekeeping. Happy Christmas.”
To Rollie’s confusion, Cecily blushed. He wondered what she had to be embarrassed about.
Rollie told her, “We were just discussing the mystery at Zilch’s vacant house. We should wait and see if anyone returns. As far as I know, no one showed up last night.”
