Mystery of the Vanished Prince (5 page)

“Right, thank you, sir,” said Goon, pleased that he was going to handle the matter first. He clicked down the receiver, and went to get his helmet. It was a great pity he had to go and see that toad of a boy, Fatty. Master Frederick Trotteville. Huh! He’d soon show him he’d got to answer his questions, though. He’d Stand No Nonsense from that Pest.

He cycled round to Fatty’s house. He knocked sharply at the front door. The maid opened it, and he asked for Fatty.

“He’s gone out, sir,” said the maid.

“Where’s he gone?” demanded Mr. Goon.

Mrs. Trotteville, Fatty’s mother, heard Mr. Goon’s rather loud voice, and came into the hall.

“Oh, it’s you, Mr. Goon,” she said, politely. “Did you want Frederick? He’s out, I’m afraid. Was there something you wanted to ask him?”

“Well, Madam, I did want to ask him a few questions about the Princess Bongawee,” said Mr. Goon. “But perhaps you can tell me. Was she staying here?”

Mrs. Trotteville looked amazed. “What Princess?” she asked. “I’ve never even heard of her.”

“She’s the sister of that Prince Bongawah that’s vanished,” explained Mr. Goon.

This didn’t convey anything to Mrs. Trotteville at all. She hadn’t taken any interest in the morning’s report of the Prince’s disappearance. She had merely thought he hadn’t liked cold baths or something, and had run away. And anyway, what was it to do with Frederick?

“I’m afraid I can’t help you, Mr. Goon,” she said. “Frederick has only been back home for two or three days and as far as I know he hasn’t been about with any Princesses at all. I feel sure he would have introduced them to me if he knew any. Good morning.”

“But - do you mean to say you didn’t ask her in to tea or anything?” said Mr. Goon desperately.

“Why should I, if I have never even met her?” said Mrs. Trotteville, thinking that Mr. Goon must be out of his mind. “Good morning.”

She shut the door and left a perspiring Mr. Goon outside. Now he had got to go and find that fat boy. Where would he be? He might be round at those precious friends of his - the Hilton’s - or those other’s - Larry and Daisy somebody-or-other.

Mr. Goon cycled first to Larry’s house. But again he drew a blank. Larry and Daisy were both out.

“Probably round at Master Trotteville’s,” said their maid. But Mr. Goon knew better. Nobody was going to send him trapesing back there again!

He cycled, very red in the face now, down the road, and all the way to Pip’s. He cycled up to the front door, and hammered angrily on the knocker.

The five children were out in the garden with Buster. Buster growled at the knocking and Fatty put a restraining hand on him.

Bets went peeping round the hedge to see who it was at the front door. She ran back, looking scared.

“It’s Mr. Goon. Old Clear-Orf. He looks very red and cross,” she said. “Oh dear - do you think he’s come to ask us about the Princess I pretended to be? He’s really so very silly, I’m sure he thinks I was real!”

Fatty got up. “Come along,” he said. “Out of the gate at the bottom of the garden we go, top speed. If any one calls us, we’re not here! If Goon is hunting for the Princess Bongawee, let him hunt! Do him good. Shut up, Buster - if you bark, you’ll give the game away!”

They all fled silently down the garden to the little gate that opened on to the lane at the bottom. Buster ran too, without even half a growl. Something was Up, was it? Well, he could play his part too, then!

When Mrs. Hilton took Mr. Goon out into the garden to find the children, there was no one there. No one in the summer-house either! How peculiar!

“I am sure I heard them out here a minute ago,” she said. “Pip! Bets! Where are you?”

No answer at all. Mrs. Hilton called once more and then turned to the purple Mr. Goon. “I expect you will find them either at Frederick Trotteville’s, or at Larry’s,” she said. “Perhaps you would like to go there?”

Mr. Goon had a vision of himself chasing from one house to another endlessly in search of an elusive Fatty. He scowled, and sailed away morosely on his bicycle.

“Really,” thought Mrs. Hilton, “that policeman’s manners get worse and worse every day!”

Ern and Mr. Goon

Somebody else was also very excited that morning, besides the Find-Outers and Mr. Goon. Ern was most astonished when he heard the news of Prince Bongawah’s disappearance. He learnt it in rather a peculiar fashion.

Ever since he had met the Princess Bongawee at Fatty’s house, he had kept a look out for the little Prince over the hedge. He was longing to tell him that he had met his sister.

But somehow he hadn’t caught sight of him. Still, Ern didn’t give up, and that very morning he had squirmed right through the hedge, hoping to find the Prince himself.

He was most astonished to find two policemen nearby. They pounced on Ern at once. “What are you doing in this field?” demanded one, his hand on Ern’s neck.

“I only just came over to look for someone,” said Ern wriggling. “Lemme go. You’re hurting.”

“You’ll get hurt a lot more if you come interfering here now,” said the policeman grimly. “You might even disappear - like the little Prince!”

This was the first Ern had heard of any disappearance. He stared at the two policemen. “Has he disappeared?” he said, astonished. “Coo, think of that! When did he go?”

“Sometime in the night,” said the policeman, watching Ern closely: “Hear anything? You’re camping in that tent, I suppose?”

“Yes. I didn’t hear nothing at all,” said Ern, at once. “Coo - to think I met his sister, the Princess, a few days ago!”

“Oh yes?” said one of the policemen, mockingly. “And did you have tea with his mother the Queen, and dinner with his old man?”

“No. But I had an ice-cream with his sister,” protested Ern.

“Oh yes?” said both policemen at once. One of them gave him such a violent shake that Ern almost fell over. “Now you get along,” he said. “And just remember it’s always best to keep your nose out of trouble. You and your tales! What you want’s a good whipping!”

Ern felt that it was the last thing he wanted. He squeezed back through the hole in the hedge, hurt to think that his tale had been disbelieved. He determined to go and tell Fatty about the Prince’s disappearance. It didn’t occur to him that it was already in all the papers.

He set off by himself, without Sid or Perce. Perce was in a bad temper that morning, and Sid as usual had his mouth full of Stick-Me-Tight toffee, so there was no conversation to be got out of him at all. Ern felt that he wanted a little intelligent company. Neither Sid nor Perce could be called really interesting companions.

He decided to borrow a bicycle from one of the nearby caravanners. There was one there, leaning against the caravan. Ern snooped round, looking for the owner.

He found him at last, a boy a bit older than himself. “Lend me your bike?” called Ern.

“Sixpence,” called back the thrifty owner. Ern parted reluctantly with sixpence, and rode off down the field path to the gate, wobbling over the ruts.

Meanwhile, Mr. Goon was cycling grumpily back home again. Just as he turned a corner he caught sight of a plump boy cycling towards him. It was Ern. Ern, however, was not particularly anxious to meet his uncle, so he turned his bike round hurriedly and made off in the opposite direction.

For some reason Mr. Goon took it into his head to think that the fat boy in the distance was Fatty in one of his errand boy disguises.

He began to pedal furiously. Oho! So that toad of a boy was Up to his Tricks again, was he? He was disguising himself so as to keep away from Mr. Goon and his questions, was he? Well, he, Mr. Goon, would soon put an end to that! He would cycle after him till he caught him.

So Mr. Goon cycled. The pedals went up and down furiously, he rang his bell furiously as he rounded the corner, and he looked furious too. Any one looking at Mr. Goon at that moment would have thought that he was on Very Important Business Indeed.

Ern took a look over his shoulder when he heard the furious ringing of Mr. Goon’s bell coming round the corner. He was horrified to find his uncle racing after him down the street. Ern began to pedal very quickly indeed.

“Hey you!” came a stentorian voice from halfway down the street. Ern’s heart almost failed him. His uncle sounded so very stern. But what had he, Ern done now? Was his uncle going to go for him for protecting the princess with the State Umbrella?

Ern pedalled away and shot round a corner. So did Mr. Goon. Both got hotter and hotter, and Ern became more and more panic-stricken. Mr. Goon began to get very angry indeed. He was absolutely certain it was Fatty leading him this dance. Wait till he got him! He’d pull off his wig, and show him he couldn’t deceive him!

Ern turned another corner, and found himself cycling up a path into a barn. He couldn’t stop. Hens and ducks fled out of his way. Ern ended up on the floor of a dark barn, panting, and almost in tears.

Mr. Goon came up the path at top speed too. He also landed in the dark barn, but not on the floor. He came to a stop just by Ern.

“Now, you just take off that wig,” commanded Mr. Goon, in an awful voice. “And let me tell you what I think of boys who lead me a dance like this, just when they know I want evidence regarding the Princess Bongawee!”

Ern stared up at his uncle in amazement. What was he talking about? Did he think Ern was wearing a wig? It was dark in the barn, and at first Mr. Goon did not see that it was Ern. Then, as his eyes grew used to the shadows, he saw who it was. His eyes bulged almost out of his head.

“Ern! What you doing here?” he almost yelled.

“Well, Uncle - you chased me, didn’t you?” said Ern, in alarm. “I was frightened. Didn’t you know it was me? You pedalled after me all right.”

Mr. Goon collected himself with an effort. He stared down at Ern, who was still on the floor. “What did you run away from me for?” he asked, sternly.

“I told you. You chased me,” said Ern.

“I chased you because you were running away,” said Mr. Goon, majestically.

“Well, Uncle - I ran away because you were chasing me,” said poor Ern, again.

“You being cheeky?” asked Mr. Goon, in an awful voice.

“No, Uncle,” said Ern, thinking it was time he got up. He was too much at Mr. Goon’s mercy on the floor. Anything might happen to him with his uncle so furious! Ern didn’t know what was the matter at all. All he had done was to try to get away from his uncle.

“Have you seen that fat boy to-day?” asked Mr. Goon, watching Ern slowly and cautiously get up.

“No, Uncle,” said Ern.

“You seen that there Princess again?” asked his uncle.

“No, Uncle,” said Ern, in alarm. “I say - you’re not after her, are you?”

“Do you know where she lives?” said Mr. Goon, thinking that perhaps he might get something out of Ern, if he couldn’t find the elusive Fatty.

“Why don’t you ask Fatty?” said Ern, innocently. “He knows her very well. I expect she sees him every day. Coo - she might know something about her brother’s disappearance. I never thought of that! ”

“Now you listen here, Ern,” said Mr. Goon, solemnly. “You remember Chief Inspector Jenks? Well, I’ve been talking to him on the phone to-day, see, about this same disappearance. And he’s put me in charge of the case. I’m trying to find that princess to question her. But do you think I can find that pest of a boy to ask him about her? He’s nowhere to be found! Makes me think he’s disappearing too - on purpose!”

Ern picked up his bike, listening hard. He thought it very likely indeed that Fatty was avoiding Mr. Goon. Ern considered it was a very sensible thing to do. Perhaps Fatty was on to this case too? Perhaps - oh joy - perhaps a mystery had suddenly turned up right under his very nose. Maybe Fatty was avoiding Mr. Goon so that he shouldn’t have to give away what he knew about the Princess.

Ern grinned suddenly, much to his uncle’s astonishment. “What you grinning at all of a sudden?” he asked suspiciously.

Ern didn’t answer. His grin faded. “Now you look here, young Ern,” boomed Mr. Goon, “if I catch you hanging round Peterswood, hob-nobbing with that pest of a boy, I’ll have you and Sid and Perce cleared out of that camp in double-quick time - do you hear me? You don’t know nothing about this case at all, and you aren’t going to know anything, either. I know you and your ways - telling tales of this and that and the other! All you can tell that boy this time is that I’m in charge of this, and if he doesn’t tell me all he knows about that princess before teatime, so’s I can report to the Chief Inspector, he’ll get into Serious Trouble. Very Serious Trouble.”

Mr. Goon was quite out of breath after this long speech. Ern edged out of the barn. The hens peeping round the door scattered at once, clucking. Ern leapt on his bicycle and rode out at top speed.

“You go and tell that boy I want him!” yelled Mr. Goon, as a parting shot. “I’m not going all over the place after him again!”

Ern cycled quickly to Fatty’s, relieved to have got away from his uncle without a cuff or a blow. He hoped to goodness he would find Fatty at home. He was lucky! Fatty was in his shed with the others, keeping a watch for Goon.

Ern poured out his tale, and was disappointed to find that the others already knew about the Prince’s disappearance from the papers. “What about that Princess, Fatty?” said Ern. “Don’t she know nothing about her brother?”

“Ern - she wasn’t a real Princess,” said Fatty, thinking it was time to own up to their joke. “That was only young Bets here dressed up in some things I brought from Morocco. And her cousin was Daisy, and the others were Larry and Pip!”

“Kim-Larriana-Tik, at your service,” said Larry, with a bow.

“Kim-Pippy-Tok,” said Pip, with another bow. Ern stared, bewildered. He rubbed his hand over his eyes. He stared again.

“Lovaduck!” he said at last. “No, I can’t believe it! Just you dressed up, little Bets! And you looked a real princess too. Coo! No wonder my uncle’s wanting to see you, Fatty, and ask about the Princess - and no wonder you don’t want to see him! Took him in properly, we did! Me with the State Umbrella and all!”

Bets began to laugh. “You were fine, Ern,” she said. “Oh dear - didn’t we talk a foreign language beautifully! Onna-matta-tickly-pop!”