Enid Blyton - Mystery #03 — The Mystery of the Secret Room

“So, unless I can get help straightaway, these men may escape for good!” thought Fatty. “Anyway, at any moment they may find I’ve escaped from that room, and be alarmed. They have only got to hop into that aeroplane and be off to another country if they wish!”

He slipped through the hedge into Chestnut Lane. He crept quietly up the lane, still keeping in the darkness of the hedge.

And quite suddenly he bumped hard into some one who was creeping down the lane, also keeping well in the shelter of the hedge! That some one clutched hard at Fatty, and held him tightly in a grip there was no getting away from.

A light was flashed into his eyes and a grim voice said, “And who are you, and what are you doing here?”

It was a voice Fatty knew well. He listened in delighted surprise.

“Inspector Jenks! Golly, I am glad to hear you!”

The torch flashed into Fatty’s face again.

“You know me?” said Inspector Jenks’ voice. “Who are you?”

The Inspector did not recognize Fatty in his curious disguise. Also Fatty was now extremely black and dirty, and looked more like a negro than himself.

“I’m Frederick Trotteville,” said Fatty. “I’m - er - disguised, Inspector, that’s all.”

“Quiet, now,” said the Inspector, and pulled Fatty into a field beyond the hedge. “Talk in a whisper. What are you doing here? The others telephoned to me and told me enough to puzzle me. I can’t say I thought very much of their story, but I came over to see what was up.”

“Good!” said Fatty. “The others guessed then that I had written a secret message, and they read it.”

“Yes,” said Inspector Jenks. “Well, as I said, I came over as soon as I could by car, and after I had heard what the others had to say, I went to see Mr. Goon. I wanted to see if he knew anything about this, because it was quite likely he did, and hadn’t told you.”

“Oh!” said Fatty. “We didn’t want Clear-Orf to know about it.”

“Well, he doesn’t,” said Inspector Jenks. “He wasn’t there, and no one knows where he is. Do you?”

“No,” said Fatty, not dreaming that Mr. Goon was well and truly locked into the coal-cellar of Milton House.

“Then I thought I’d come along down to Milton House myself,” said the Inspector, “and I bumped into you. What has been happening, Frederick? Is it really something serious, or just a little local robbery or something?”

“I don’t know what it is, sir,” said Fatty. “I really don’t. I can’t make it out. I’ll tell you what I know.”

So the boy related everything: he told of the secret room he had been locked in - the two men he had seen - the one he hadn’t seen, called Jarvis - the coming of the aeroplane, bringing more men to meet in the secret room - and how he had locked somebody into the cellar.

“So you’ll catch one of the men, anyway, sir,” he said, “even if the others escape. Oh! - I nearly forgot - I - er - I managed to get hold of this book for you to see. I thought it might tell you something. I don’t understand a word of it.”

By the light of his torch Inspector Jenks examined the queer little notebook that Fatty had taken from the cupboard in the secret room. He whistled.

“Yes - I understand this all right!” he said, and Fatty heard the real excitement in his low voice. “This is a code-book containing the names, both true and false, of members of a well-known gang and their various addresses! Pretty good work on your part, Frederick. Now, look here, you scoot up to the nearest telephone, ring the number I tell you, and say I want all the Squad down here immediately. There’s not a moment to spare. Immediately! Understand?”

Fatty understood. He felt thrilled. The other mysteries he and the Find-Outers had solved had been exciting, but really, this one was the most exciting of the lot. He shot off up the lane, leaving the Inspector to do a little more watching.

He got the number immediately. It was evidently a private police number. He gave his message. A sharp, commanding voice answered him:

“Right! Over in about ten minutes’ time.”

Fatty rang off. His heart beat fast. What should he do now? Surely he must go down and see what was going to happen? It promised to be extremely exciting.

On the other hand, would it be fair to leave the other Find-Outers out of this? They would so love to be in it too. Surely there wouldn’t be any danger if they all kept in the lane?

Fatty sped off to Pip’s. By good luck all the other Find-Outers were there, very worried, but very glad to think that Inspector Jenks had come and taken charge of things.

Buster suddenly began to bark his head off, and Bets knew that Fatty was coming up the stairs. She ran to the door, flung her arms round him, and dragged him into the room.

“Fatty! Are you safe? How did you get out? Oh, Fatty, we were so worried about you!”

“Get me some biscuits or something,” said Fatty. “I’m starving. You needn’t have worried about me. I was perfectly all right.”

“You look simply awful!” said Pip. “Black and dirty and really disgusting!”

“Don’t care,” said Fatty, and gobbled down some biscuits. “Had the time of my life. I’ll tell you all about it as we go.”

“Go?” said Daisy. “Go where?”

“Down to Milton House to see the fun,” said Fatty. “I’ve just telephoned for a squad of armed policemen to come over - Inspector Jenks’ orders!”

There were squeals and gasps. The other Find-Outers stared at Fatty with amazed eyes. Buster tried in vain to get on his knee. He was overjoyed at having Fatty again.

“Is it - is it dangerous?” asked Bets.

“Very - but not for us!” said Fatty. “Now do you want to come or not? I’ll tell you everything on the way. We must go at once or we shall miss the fun.”

They went, of course. They flung on hats and coats and trooped out into Pip’s drive, excited. They set out over the hill, and just as they got to the other side a powerful police car swept by them!

“That’s it - that’s the armed Squad!” said Fatty. “Did you see them? My, they’ve been quick!”

The big police car roared down Chestnut Lane, and the children hurried as fast as they could after it. Their hearts thumped, and Bets clung tightly to Fatty’s sturdy arm. Buster, his tongue hanging out, his tail wagging all the time, hurried along too, quite forgetting to limp in his excitement.

They arrived at the gateway of Milton House. The police car was outside in the lane. Black shadows here and there showed where members of the Squad were. Orders were being given by the Inspector in a low voice.

“He’s putting men in a ring round the house,” whispered Fatty to the others, almost choking with excitement. “See - there goes one that way - and there’s another going the other way round the house. I wonder how they will get in.”

Inspector Jenks had a very simple way of getting in. He had read Fatty’s letter to the Find-Outers, and had noticed that he had told them to knock at the door.

So, if he or his men walked up the steps to the door and hammered with the knocker, the men inside would quite probably think it was the children coming along in obedience to Fatty’s letter.

When all his men were in position around the house, the Inspector went to the front door and lifted knocker. All the children jumped when they heard the loud rat-a-tat-tat.

The door opened wide. Evidently the one who opened it - probably Jarvis - expected four children to walk quietly in.

Instead of that a burly figure crowded on top of him, the round barrel of a revolver was pressed into his chest, and a low voice said, “Not a word!”