Read Mystery of Holly Lane Online

Authors: Enid Blyton

Mystery of Holly Lane (14 page)

They mounted their bicycles, and waited until they were beyond Marlow in a deserted country road. Fatty jumped off his bicycle. The others did the same. They went to a gate, leaned their bicycles there and gathered round Fatty, puzzled at his serious face.

“Marian has disappeared,” he said. “I overheard her mother say so. They’re terribly upset — half afraid she’s gone off with the money, and worried about what the papers will say if they get to hear of her disappearance! What do you think of that!”

“Gosh!” said Larry. “It really does look as if she’s the thief. After all, she’s the one most likely to have wormed herself into the old man’s confidence and got his secrets out of him — where the money was kept, for instance.”

“Yes. There doesn’t seem any other reason why she’s gone,” said Fatty. “Well, until she conies back, we can’t get much further in this mystery. We don’t know two important things — where or why Marian has gone, and where or why the furniture has gone. This is one of the most puzzling mysteries we’ve tackled.”

“Yes. And I’m sure that NOBODY could solve it, even if they knew all we know,” said Pip. “Well, let’s get back. There’s not much more we can do now.”

So they rode back to Peterswood, disappointed and puzzled. Well, perhaps the simplest explanation was the right one: Marian had taken the money and gone off with it!

And yet — what about that stolen furniture! Could that have been Marian too? They gave it up!

“It’s too mysterious a mystery!” said Bets. “Mr. Goon CERTAINLY won’t solve it!”

 

An Extraordinary Find.

 

Fatty was unusually quiet that evening. The five of them, with Buster, were down in Fatty’s shed. Bets slipped her hand through his arm.

“What’s the matter, Fatty? Are you worried?”

“I’m puzzled more than worried,” said Fatty. “I really am. I CAN’T believe that the granddaughter Marian would rob an old man she had been looking after so lovingly. And yet I feel certain that Wilfrid hasn’t got the money, and what’s more doesn’t know where it is.”

“Then is there somebody else — a seventh person — that we don’t know about?” asked Larry.

“I did wonder if there could be,” said Fatty. “Some one who perhaps went round the back of the bungalow that morning of the robbery, and got in without being seen. Mr. Henri could see every one going in at the front, but not at the back.”

“Yes. That’s true,” said Daisy. “Also, I suppose it is possible that he wasn’t looking out of his window every minute of the time.”

“That’s so,” said Fatty. “But I think the old man would have mentioned any one else. Mr. Henri had a good talk with him, and is pretty certain there was no one else.”

“Let’s have a game,” said Pip, who was getting just a bit tired of all this talky-talk.

“No. You have one, and let me think,” said Fatty. “I’m at my wit’s end — and yet I feel as if there’s some clue that would give me the key to the whole mystery!”

“Well, anyway, the money’s gone,” said Pip. “So has Marian. It’s a bit fishy.”

“Perhaps it’s still at Hollies,” suggested Bets. “In a place where nobody has looked.”

“I hunted everywhere,” said Fatty. “It’s such a small place — there really is nowhere to hide anything, once you rule out the chimney and the floorboards. There’s no furniture now to speak of — just the old man’s bed, a chair, and a little table in that back room. And a lamp, a stove…”

“That old fender,” put in Daisy.

“And the curtains,” said Bets. “They had to leave those, I suppose, in case old Goon came by at night and shone his torch in at the window. He’d have discovered the bare room then, of course.”

“Oh, come on, do let’s have a game,” said Pip. “I know when I’m beaten. There’s something peculiar about all this, something we don’t know about.”

Fatty grinned suddenly. “All right!” he said. “I’m inclined to think you’re right. There are some bits of this jigsaw that we haven’t got — it isn’t that we can’t fit them into the picture. We just haven’t got them. Hand over the cards, Pip. You never shuffle properly.”

When the others went, Fatty walked part of the way with them, Buster at his heels. It was a lovely evening, and looked like being a glorious day tomorrow.

They went round a corner in a bunch, and bumped into a burly form. “Hey!” said a familiar voice. “Can’t you look where you’re going?”

“Oh, good evening, Mr. Goon,” said Fatty. “Out for a little stroll? Solved the mystery yet?”

“Oh, yes!” said Goon. “No mystery in it at all — if you’re talking about the Hollies affair, that is. Plain as the nose on your face. It’s that girl Marian.”

Fatty was thunderstruck. “What do you mean? Surely she didn’t take the money?”

“You wait and see the papers tomorrow morning,” said Mr. Goon, enjoying himself. “Thought yourself so clever, didn’t you? Well, you’re not.”

“Has the money been found?” asked Fatty.

“You wait and see,” said Mr. Goon again. “And look here — I bin thinking — do you know anything about that lady that read my hand?”

Mr. Goon looked extremely threatening and Bets promptly went behind Larry.

“Let me see now, which lady do you mean?” asked Fatty, as if plenty of people read Goon’s hand.

Goon gave one of his snorts. “You’re a pest!” he said. “But this time I’m on top, see? You watch the papers tomorrow morning!”

He went on down the road, looking very pleased with himself. Fatty gave a hollow groan.

“I do believe that fat policeman knows something we don’t. Blow him! I’ll never forgive myself if we let him get the better of us. It rather looks as if Marian is the black sheep.”

“I thought she was,” said Pip. “Going off like that. Perhaps they’ve found her, money and all.”

“We’ll have to wait for the morning papers,” said Fatty. “Well, good-bye, It’s sad to think this mystery is coming to an end while we’re still in the middle of it, so to speak.”

Bets squeezed Fatty’s arm. “Perhaps something else will happen,” she comforted him. “You never know!”

“It’s not very likely,” said Fatty, and gave her a hug. “Good-bye — see you tomorrow, all of you.”

Fatty was down early the next morning to see the papers. There was nothing on the front page, but inside was a whole column. It was headed:

 

MISSING GIRL AND MISSING MONEY.

 

It then went on to describe Hollies, the old man, the missing money, the sudden disappearance of the furniture, and now the disappearance of Marian! It didn’t say that Marian had taken the money — but any one reading the news about the Hollies affair would immediately gather that Marian had taken both money and furniture!

“Now I suppose the hunt is on,” Fatty thought. “Every one will be looking out for Marian. I suppose her mother told the police the girl was missing — or more probably Goon wormed it out of her and reported it. Gosh, I wish I could have been a bit cleverer over this mystery! I do feel that I’ve missed something, some clue, that might have been the key to the whole affair.”

Fatty put down the paper and thought. “I’ll go round to Hollies once more,” he decided. “For the last time. Just to see if any bright idea comes to me. I’ll go by myself without any of the others. I’ll just take Buster with me.”

He fetched his bicycle and rode off. He soon came to Holly Lane and went into Green-Trees to get the key. Mr. Henri still had it.

“The old man has gone to Marlow,” he said. “They came to fetch him last night.”

“Oh, and so I suppose when he asked for Marian and was told she was missing he made a fuss!” said Fatty.

“I’ll tell you something he told me,” said Mr. Henri. “He said that Marian knew where his money was. He had actually told her, and made her promise she would never, never tell anyone.”

Fatty groaned. “So it looks as if she was the only one who knew — and I must say things look bad for her now. Well, if she took it, she deserves what’s coming to her! May I have the key, Mr. Henri? I know I’m beaten, but I just want to have a last look round.”

Mr. Henri gave it to him, and Fatty went off next door. He let himself in. The curtains were drawn across the windows, and the room was dark. He switched on the light, but it was very dim. He drew the curtains away from the windows and the sun streamed in.

Fatty remembered how Marian had washed and ironed the curtains on the morning of the robbery. “Surely she wouldn’t have done that if she had been going to steal the money and clear out!” thought Fatty. “It doesn’t make sense. In fact, nothing makes sense!”

He stood there, looking at the fresh, green curtains. He had his hand on the side-hem that ran from the top of the window almost down to the floor. It felt stiff and he rubbed it between finger and thumb.

“Funny,” said Fatty, and felt the hem a bit higher up. Then he felt it round the bottom of the curtains. He held it to his ear and rubbed and squeezed. A faint crackle came to him.

Fatty suddenly grew excited — tremendously excited. He was filled with sudden exultation.

“I’ve found the money! I believe I’ve FOUND THE MONEY! Gosh, what a bit of luck!”

He took out his pocket-knife and ripped up the bottom hem of the curtain, cutting the stitches. The hem was now loose enough for him to insert finger and thumb.

He felt about, and came across something papery. He pulled it out gently and stared at it, whistling softly. It was a pound note, rather dirty — a pound note!

“So that’s where she hid the money — to keep it from Wilfrid, who had begun to suspect that it was somewhere in the furniture! He must have come and threatened her that he would search for it after she had gone that morning! And so she ripped open the hems of the curtains she was ironing, and sewed the money into them. What an idea!”

The curtain hems were packed with the pound notes. Fatty could feel them all the way round. He debated what to do about it. Should he take the money out? No, he might get into trouble. It would be perfectly safe to leave it there — nobody had guessed so far, and not a soul was likely to guess now.

“Anyway, no one will come here,” said Fatty. “And what’s more, I’ll make certain they don’t!”

He went out of the bungalow and locked the door. He put the key into his pocket. “I shan’t take it back to Hollies. I’ll just tell Mr. Henri I’ll keep it — and ask him to keep an eye on any one who comes up to the front door. Wilfrid’s got a key, that’s certain, but I don’t think he’ll come again — and Marian certainly won’t.”

Fatty was so excited that he found it difficult to keep his news to himself. Finding the money had suddenly shed light on all kinds of things.

Marian had taken it. She had hidden it in the curtains to make sure that Wilfrid didn’t find it if he hunted for hiding-places in the furniture. She hadn’t even told the old man where she had put it, in case Wilfrid wormed it out of him — and the old fellow, looking for it after Marian had gone that morning, had thought it was stolen.

Why had Marian disappeared? Not because she had taken the money. She hadn’t! Had Wilfrid anything to do with her disappearance? It was almost certainly Wilfrid who had come with some kind of van or lorry that night and removed all the furniture. Why? Probably because Marian vowed that she hadn’t got it, but that it was still hidden at Hollies.

“The pieces are fitting again,” said Fatty to himself jubilantly. “If only I could find Marian — or the furniture. Would the furniture still be in the van? It would obviously be dangerous for Wilfrid and his helper to unload it anywhere. His people would be very suspicious to see furniture suddenly appearing in the house or in the yard. He probably had to leave it in the van.”

Another thought struck him. “Perhaps Wilfrid’s family are in the House Removal business! Maybe they have big vans, and it might be in one of those. Gosh, I’ll have to find out quickly!”

Fatty could hardly get home fast enough. Quick, quick! He might defeat Goon yet, and solve the whole thing before Marian was arrested!

 

Night Adventure.

 

Fatty rushed to the telephone directories in the hall as soon as he got home. He wanted to look up King’s of Marlow. Were they Furniture Removers? They must be! He was certain they would be. Quick — he must find King’s in the directory.

There were a good many Kings — A. King, Alec King, Bertram King. Claude King, Mrs. D. King… all the way down the list of Kings went Fatty’s eager finger. At last he came to the end of them.

He was bitterly disappointed. Not one of the Kings was a Furniture Remover. There was a butcher and a baker; but the Kings apparently did not go in for House Removals. Fatty stared at the list in despair.

“I’ll go down it again, very, very carefully,” he thought “Now, then — A. King, Alec King, Bertram King, Butcher, Claude King, Dentist, Mrs. D. King, Edward King, the King Stables. Henry King… wait now — stables! STABLES! That’s it! That’s it! Stables mean horses — and horses mean horse-boxes — horse-boxes means vans capable of removing furniture! I’ve got it, I’ve got it!”

Fatty threw the directory on the floor and did a most complicated jig up and down the hall with Buster flying after him, barking. He knew that Fatty was excited, so he was excited too.

Mrs. Trotteville suddenly came out from the lounge into the hall. “Frederick! What on earth are you thinking of? I have a meeting in the lounge, and you choose just this minute to act like a Red Indian.”

“Oh, Mother! I’m so sorry,” said Fatty, and in his excitement and jubilance he went up and hugged her. “But I’ve just made a great discovery, and I was celebrating it. So sorry, Mother.”

“Well, go and celebrate down in your shed,” said his mother. “And, by the way, please don’t forget that your grandfather will be here by the eleven o’clock train. I want you to meet him.”

Fatty stared at his mother in the utmost dismay. “Gosh, I’d forgotten every word about it! Oh, Mother — I can’t meet Grandad! I’m so sorry.”

“But you must, Frederik,” said his mother, shocked. “I have this Committee meeting — and besides, you always do meet your grandfather. He is only coming for the day and would think it very rude of you if you go off somewhere. You knew he was coming.”

Fatty groaned. “Yes, but I tell you I forgot every word about it I promise you I did, Mother. It isn’t that I don’t want to meet him or be with him — I do; but it just happens that I’ve got something very, very important to do, and it can’t wait.”

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