Mystery of Holly Lane (17 page)

But the plain-clothes man was there, and a hand with fingers of steel gripped Wilfrid’s arm and held him fast.

“Don’t go yet, Wilfrid,” said the Superintendent. “There are quite a lot of questions we want to ask you.”

His voice was suddenly different from the merry, kindly voice that the children were used to. Bets shivered a little. The Super was their friend, their very good friend, but to people like Wilfrid he was an implacable enemy, stern and unyielding. Wilfrid stood before him, as white as a sheet, trembling from head to foot

“Johns — you and Goon stay here and let him tell you about the midnight move,” said the Superintendent. “Where he parked the van and everything. Then take him along to the police station. I’ll be there in an hour.”

“Right, sir,” said Johns, the plain-clothes man. Goon muttered something, but nobody could catch what he said. Still, as nobody listened, it didn’t matter! Poor Goon, he looked very downcast as the five children and Marian went away with the Superintendent.

Mr. Henri went with them and said good-bye at the gate. “I have such a story to tell to my sistair,” he said. “Please to come and see us soon! Au revoir!”

“Where are we going?” asked Bets, hanging on to the burly Superintendent’s arm.

“Well, isn’t there some place here that sells ice-creams and macaroons?” said the big man. “I had an early breakfast — and I don’t often see you. I’d like to stand you all a treat this morning — Marian too! She looks as if she wants feeding up a bit! Been starved in that horse-box, I expect, Marian!”

“I couldn’t eat very much,” she said. “But I’m quite all right now, thank you. So is my mother. She was so thankful to see me. I’d still be a prisoner if it wasn’t for these three boys!”

“Ah, here is the place I mean,” said the Superintendent, stopping outside the spotlessly clean dairy. “Yes. Best macaroons I ever had in my life came from here. In we go!”

And in they went, Buster too, much to the surprise of the little diary-woman, who didn’t expect quite so many customers all at once — seven — and a dog who was as good as a customer any day, because he was just as fond of macaroons and ice-creams as the children were!

“Er — twenty-one macaroons, please. Oh, I beg your pardon, Buster — twenty-four, I mean,” said the Superintendent. “And a first round of eight ice-creams — and orangeade for everyone but the dog.”

“Yes, sir,” said the dairy-woman, and hurried away. She brought the orangeade at once. “The other things are just coming,” she said.

The Superintendent lifted his glass. “Let us drink to the day when Frederick Trotteville becomes my right-hand man!” he said. Fatty blushed with pride, and they all drank heartily.

Then Fatty lifted his glass. “To my future chief, Superintendent Jenks!” he said, and everyone again drank heartily. Now, only the Superintendent had any orangeade left.

“Ah, can’t waste it!” he said. “To the Five Find-Outers — and Dog. Many Happy Mysteries!”

Yes, we all wish them that. Many more mysteries — and may each one be more mysterious than the last!