Mystery of the Vanished Prince (10 page)

So Bets came to the telephone, in her dressing-gown, having a feeling that Fatty had some news.

“Hallo, Fatty,” came her voice. “Anything up?”

“Yes,” said Fatty, in a solemn voice. “Extraordinary news has just come through - from Ern and Sid. Can’t tell you over the phone. Meet here at half-past nine tomorrow morning, sharp.”

“Fatty!” squealed Bets, thrilled. “You must tell me something about it. Quick! Nobody’s about, it’s quite safe.”

“I can’t possibly tell you over the phone,” said Fatty, enjoying all this importance. “All I can say is that it’s very important, and will need a lot of discussion and planning. The real mystery is About To Begin, Bets!”

“Ooooh,” said Bets. “All right - half-past nine tomorrow. I’ll go straightaway and tell Pip.”

“Now don’t you go shouting all this through the bathroom door,” said Fatty, in alarm.

“No - I suppose I’d better not,” said Bets. “I’ll wait till he comes out. But I’ll jolly well go and hurry him, though!”

Pip was so thrilled at this sudden and unexpected telephone call that he, like Larry, almost felt inclined to dress and shoot off to Fatty. But as his mother would certainly be most annoyed to find him dressing again and going out after a hot bath, he reluctantly decided he must wait.

Fatty sat in his bedroom and thought. He thought hard, turning over in his mind all the things he knew about the young Prince. He got the encyclopaedia and looked up Tetarua. He found a stores catalogue of his mother’s which, most fortunately, pictured not only a single pram, but a double one as well, with measurements.

Fatty decided it would be the easiest thing in the world to hide someone at the bottom of a double pram. “Probably the most uncomfortable thing in the world too,” he thought. “I wonder what old Goon is making of all this!”

Goon wasn’t making anything of it at all. He just simply didn’t believe a word, so he had nothing to puzzle over. “Gah!” he said, and dismissed the matter completely!

Talking and Planning

Before half-past nine had struck, the Five-Find-Outers (and dog) were all gathered together in Fatty’s shed. Buster was very pleased to welcome them. He pranced round in delight, and finally got on to Bets’ knee.

“Now Fatty - don’t keep us waiting - tell us exactly what’s happened,” said Larry, firmly. “Don’t go all mysterious and solemn. Just tell us!”

So Fatty told them. They listened in astonishment.

“Hidden in the pram!” said Larry. “Then the Prince must have known that woman very well. She must have been camping nearby for a reason.”

“Do you think she could have been the Prince’s nurse, and knew perhaps he wasn’t happy at camp, and arranged to smuggle him away?” said Bets.

“Bright idea, Bets,” said Fatty, approvingly. “I thought of that myself. But the twin-babies are rather a difficulty there. I don’t feel the Prince would have a nurse with twin-babies, somehow.”

“She might have been an old nurse of his, and got married, and had twins,” said Bets, using her imagination.

“It’s not much good having theories and ideas about all this until we get a few more actual details,” said Fatty. “I mean - we must find out who the woman is - if the caravan belongs to her - if she came there when the Prince arrived - if those babies are really hers, or borrowed so that she could take that big double-pram for hiding purposes - oh, there are a whole lot of things to find out!”

“And are we to snoop round and find all these details?” asked Daisy. “I rather like doing that.”

“There’s a great deal to find out,” said Fatty. “We’ll have to get busy. Any one seen the papers this morning?”

“I just glanced at them,” said Larry, “but I was really too excited to read anything. Why?”

“Only because there’s a bit more about the Prince and his country in to-day,” said Fatty. He spread a newspaper on the floor and pointed to a column.

Everyone read it.

“Well, as you will see,” said Fatty, “Tetarua isn’t a very big country, but it’s quite important from the point of view of the British, because there’s a fine airfield there we want to use. So we’ve been quite friendly with them.”

“And they’ve sent their young prince here to be educated,” said Larry. “But, according to the paper, there’s a row on in Tetarua between the present king and his cousin, who says he ought to be king.”

“Yes. And the possibilities are that the cousin has sent some one over here to capture Prince Bongawah, so that, if he doesn’t ever appear again, he, the cousin, will be king,” said Fatty. “There are no brothers or sisters apparently.”

“An old, old plot,” said Larry. “Do you suppose they will demand a ransom for the Prince?”

“No,” said Fatty. “I think they want to put him out of the way for good. Some of these Eastern States are half savage still, you know, in their ideas, although they like to send their boys here to be educated.”

There was a silence after this. Nobody liked to think of the young Prince being “put away for good.” Bets shivered.

Daisy rubbed her forehead, puzzled. “And yet - though that’s what the papers say - we know differently,” she said. “We know he wasn’t kidnapped in the way they think - just swept out of his tent and rushed off in a car somewhere. We know that, of his own free will, apparently, he crept out of his tent in his pyjamas, went through the hedge to that caravan, and allowed himself to be hidden and wheeled away in that pram! That couldn’t be called kidnapping.”

“No. It couldn’t,” said Fatty. “There’s something queer about this. I believe Sid, you know. For one thing he would never, never have the imagination to make up all that.”

“Did you ring up the Chief Inspector?” said Pip.“What did he say?”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I didn’t telephone him,” said Fatty. “I don’t feel he’s very pleased with me at the moment - with any of us, as a matter of fact - so I sent Ern and Sid round to Goon, to tell him. He would naturally ring up the Chief Inspector himself, and get his own orders.”

“But wouldn’t the Inspector ring you, when he got Goon’s message?” asked Pip.

“I rather thought he might,” said Fatty, who was feeling a little hurt because there had been no word at all from the Inspector. “I expect he’s still peeved with me. Well - I shan’t bother him till I’ve got something first-rate to tell him. Let Goon get on with his own ideas about this - we’ll get on with ours! At least I’ve passed on Sid’s information to him.”

There was another silence. “It’s rather a peculiar mystery, really,” said Bets at last. “There doesn’t actually seem anywhere to begin. What do we do first?”

“Well, as I see it, we had better follow up the definite clues we have,” said Fatty. “We must first of all find out about that woman - who she is. Get her address. Interview her. Try and frighten something out of her. If she is hiding the Prince, we must find out where. And why.”

“Yes,” said Larry. “We must do all that. Hadn’t we better begin before Goon gets going? He’ll probably be working along the same lines as us.”

“Yes. I suppose he will,” said Fatty, getting up. “This part is pretty obvious to any one - even to Mr. Goon! Well, let’s hope we don’t bump into him to-day. He’ll be annoyed if we do!”

“Woof,” said Buster joyfully.

“He says he hopes we do bump into him,” said Bets, hugging the little Scottie. “You love Mr. Goon’s ankles, don’t you, Buster? Nicest ankles in the world, aren’t they? Biteable and snappable and nippable.”

Every one laughed. “You’re an idiot, Bets,” said Pip. “Are we going up to the camp, Fatty? We shall have to find out who lets out those caravans, and see if we can get the name and the address of the woman who was in the one with the twin-babies.”

“Yes. That’s the first thing to do,” said Fatty. “Every one got bikes?”

Every one had. Buster was put into Fatty’s basket, and off they all went, ringing their bells loudly at every corner, just in case Mr. Goon was coming round in the opposite direction!

Ern, Sid and Perce were most delighted to see them. Fatty looked at Sid, but when he saw his jaws working rhythmically as usual, he snorted.

“Not much good asking Sid anything,” he said. “We’ll only be able to get ‘ar’ out of him. Sid, if you get many more spots, you’ll be clapped into hospital and treated for measles!”

Sid looked alarmed. Ern spoke tn him sternly. “Go and spit it out. You’re a disgrace to the Goon family.”

“Ar,” said Sid, looking really pathetic.

“He can’t spit it out,” said Perce. “It’s not the kind of toffee for that. Try some, Ern, and see.”

“No thanks,” said Ern. “Well, count Sid out of this, Fatty. He’s hopeless.”

“Yes - but he’s quite important,” said Fatty. “Well, he’ll just have to nod or shake his head, that’s all, when I ask him questions. Sid, come here. Stop chewing and listen. I’m going to ask you some questions. Nod your head for yes, and shake it for no. Understand?”

“Ar,” said Sid, and nodded his head so violently that some of the toffee went down the wrong way and he choked.

Ern thumped him on his back till his eyes almost fell out of his head. At last Sid was ready again, and listening.

“Sid - do you know the woman’s name?” asked Fatty.

“Ar,” said Sid and shook his head.

“Did you ever see her speaking to the Prince?” asked Fatty.

“Ar,” said Sid and shook his head again.

“Don’t keep saying ‘ar’ like that,” said Fatty, aggravated. “It’s positively maddening. Just shake or nod, that’s all. Did you see where the woman went when she wheeled away the pram?”

Sid shook his head dumbly.

“Do you know ANYTHING about her except that she had twins and lived in that caravan?” asked Fatty, despairing of ever getting anything out of Sid at all. Sid’s head was well and truly shaken again.

“A man in a lorry came to get the things out of the caravan,” volunteered Perce, unexpectedly.

“What was the name on the lorry?” asked Fatty at once.

“Wasn’t none,” said Perce.

“Well, a fat lot of help you and Sid are,” said Fatty in disgust. “You don’t know a thing - not even the name of the woman!”

“Oogleby-oogleby,” said Sid, suddenly, looking excited. Every one looked at him.

“Now what does that mean?” wondered Fatty. “Say it again, Sid - if you can.”

“Oogleby-oogleby-oogleby!” said Sid, valiantly, going red in the face.

“He’s talking foreign, isn’t he?” said Ern, with a laugh at his own wit. “Here, Sid - write it down. And mind your spelling!”

Sid took Ern’s pencil and wrote painfully on a page of his notebook. Every one crowded round to see what he had written.

“MARGE and BERT,” Sid had printed.

“Marge and Bert,” said Larry. “Does he mean margarine and butter?”

Every one looked at Sid. He shook his head at once, and then pretended to hold something in his arms and rock it.

“Now what’s he doing?” wondered Bets. “Rock-a-bye-baby - Sid, you’re dippy!”

“Oh - I know - he’s pretending to be holding two babies - he must have written the names of the twins!” cried Daisy. Sid nodded, pleased.

“Ar,” he said. “Oooogly-oogly.”

“Well, I don’t know if it’s going to help us to know the name of those twin babies,” said Fatty, looking extremely doubtful, “but I suppose it might. Thanks for your help, Sid - such as it is. Ern, see he doesn’t eat any more toffee. Honestly, it’s disgraceful.”

“What are we going to do now?” asked Pip.

“We’re going to find out who lets these caravans and see if they’ll tell us the name and address of the woman who took that one,” said Fatty, waving towards the empty caravan nearby. “Come on. We’ll go now.”

“Can I come too?” asked Ern, eagerly. But Fatty said no, he’d no bicycle. He didn’t want Ern, Sid and Perce trailing round them all morning. It would look rather conspicuous to go about in such a large company.

“All right,” said Ern, mournfully. “Spitty.”

Bets looked at him delighted. “Oh, Ern! I’d forgotten you used to say that, when you meant “It’s a pity.” Fatty - don’t you remember how he used to run all his words together when we knew him before?”

“Yes,” said Fatty, getting on his bike. “Swunderful! Smarvellous! Smazing!”

An Interesting Morning

And now began a morning of real investigation for the Find-Outers. They rode off down to Marlow, where the agent lived who let the caravans. Fatty had copied down the address from a big notice in the field.

“CARAVANS TO LET,” it said, “APPLY CARAVANS LTD. TIP HILL, MARLOW.”

They found Tip Hill, which was a little road leading up a hill. Halfway up, in a small field, stood a caravan, marked “CARAVANS LTD. Apply here for caravans to be let.”

“Here we are,” said Fatty. “Who would like to do this part?”

“Oh you, Fatty,” said Bets. “You always do this sort of thing so well. We’ll come and listen.”

“No, you won’t,” said Fatty. “I’m not going to have a lot of giggling and nudging going on behind me. If I do this, I do it alone.”

“All right - do it alone,” said Pip.

Fatty went in through the little gate and up to the door of the caravan. He knocked on it.

It opened, and a youth stood there, with a cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth.

“Hallo!” he said. “What you want?”

“I’m anxious to find the person who rented one of the caravans next to the School Camp Field,” said Fatty. “Could you tell me her name and address, please? I’d be most obliged. She left before I could ask her what I wanted to know.”

“My word - aren’t we la-di-da!” said the youth. “Think I’ve got time to hunt up names and addresses of your caravan friends, Mister?”

Fatty glanced at the side of the caravan. He saw the name of the owners there in small letters. “Reg and Bert Williams.” He guessed the youth was just an employee.

“Oh well, if you haven’t time, I’ll go and ask Mr. Reginald Williams,” said Fatty, at a venture. He turned away.

The youth almost fell down the caravan steps. “Ere, you! Why didn’t you tell me you knew Mr. Reg?” he called. “I’ll get the address if you wait half a tick.”

Fatty grinned. It was nice to bring that lazy little monkey to heel! “Very well. But make haste,” said Fatty.

The youth made haste. Fatty thought that Mr. Reg, whoever he was, must be a pretty terrifying person if he could shake up a fellow like this merely at the mention of his name! The youth hunted through a large file and produced a list of the caravans up on the hill by the School Camp Field.