Mystery of the Vanished Prince (6 page)

“Beats me how you can talk like that,” said Ern, wonderingly. “But I say - what’s the Inspector going to say about all this? My uncle says he told him all about the Princess this morning, and he’s been put in charge of the case! He says I’m to tell you to Keep Off! He’s met the Princess too, he says, and you’ve got to tell him where she lives so that he can interview her.”

Fatty groaned. “I knew this would happen! Why did I do such a fool thing! It was just because you turned up when you did, Ern. Well - I suppose I’d better ring up the Chief Inspector and tell him everything. All I hope is that he’ll laugh.”

“Better go and do it now,” said Pip, nervously. “We don’t want old Goon round complaining about us again. If you get the Inspector on your side, we’ll be all right.”

“Right,” said Fatty, getting up. “I’ll go now. So long! If I’m not back in five minutes you’ll know the Inspector has gobbled me up!”

He went off down the garden path to the house. The others looked rather solemnly at one another. What in the world would the Inspector say when he heard there was no Princess?

And worse still - whatever would Goon say? He must have told the Inspector all about her. He wouldn’t like it one little bit when he knew it was all a joke!

Two Unpleasant Talks

The Chief Inspector was not at all pleased with Fatty’s tale. At first he couldn’t make head or tail of it, and his voice became quite sharp.

“First Goon telephones a cock-and-bull story of some Princess who says she’s Prince Bongawah’s sister, and now you ring me and say there’s no such person, it was only Bets dressed up,” said Inspector Jenks. “This won’t do, Frederick. A joke’s a joke, but it seems to me you’ve gone rather far this time. You’ve made Goon waste time on a lot of nonsense, when he might have been doing a bit of more useful investigation.”

“I quite see that, sir,” said poor Fatty. “But actually it was all an accident - we’d no idea when we dressed up and called Bets the Princess Bongawee that Prince Bongawah was going to disappear. It was a most unfortunate coincidence. I mean - we couldn’t possibly have guessed that was going to happen.”

“Quite,” said the Chief Inspector. “You have a very curious knack of turning up in the middle of things, Frederick, haven’t you? Accidental or otherwise. You’ll certainly make Goon gnash his teeth over this! By the way - how on earth did that nephew of his - Ern or some such name - come to be mixed up in this idiotic Princess affair?”

“He just happened to barge in on us when we were dressing up,” explained Fatty. “You know he and his twin brothers are camping in the field next to where the little Prince was camping, don’t you? It’s a pity he’s such a mutt or he might have noticed something.”

There was a pause. “Yes,” came the Chief Inspector’s voice, at last. “I’d let Goon question them, but I don’t think he’d get much out of Ern, somehow. You’d better see if you can find out something, Frederick - though you don’t deserve to come in on this, you know, after your asinine behaviour.”

“No, sir,” said Fatty, humbly, his face one huge grin at the thought of “coming in on this”! That meant a little detective work again. Aha! So these hols were going to have something exciting, after all!

“All right,” said Inspector Jenks. “Make your peace with Goon if you can, and tell him to telephone me afterwards. He will not be pleased with you, Frederick. Neither am I. You’d better try and rub off this black mark quickly!”

Without saying good-bye the Chief Inspector rang off, and Fatty heard the receiver click back into place. He put back his own, and stood by the wall, thinking hard. He felt thrilled, but rather uncomfortable. Quite by accident he had got mixed up with the Prince Bongawah simply because Bets had dressed up as a Princess and Ern had seen her! How could he have known the Prince was going to disappear, and that old Goon would immediately spread the news about his mythical sister? Just like Goon! Always on to the wrong thing!

It was going to be most unpleasant breaking the news to Goon that the Princess of Bongawah was just a joke. She didn’t really exist. It was only Bets, dressed up, who had taken in old Goon!

“I play too many jokes,” thought Fatty to himself. “But it’s going to be a pretty poor life for me and the others if I cut out all the tricks and jokes we like. We play them too well, I suppose. Gosh - there’s Goon coming in at the front gate! Now for it!”

Fatty went to the front door before Mr. Goon could hammer at the knocker. He wasn’t particularly anxious for his mother to hear what he had to say to Goon.

Goon stared at Fatty as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. “Here I’ve been chasing you all day and you come and open the door to me before I’ve even knocked!” hc said. “Where have you been?”

“That doesn’t matter,” said Fatty. “Come into this room, Mr. Goon. I’ve something to say to you.”

He took the burly policeman into the little study, and Goon sat down in a chair, feeling rather astonished. “I’ve got plenty to ask you,” he began. “Been after you all day to get some information.”

“Yes. Well - you’re going to have quite a lot of information,” said Fatty. “And I’m afraid it will be a bit of a shock to you, Mr. Goon. There’s been an unfortunate misunderstanding.”

“Huh! ” said Mr. Goon, annoyed at Fatty’s way of speaking. “I don’t want to know about unfortunate misunderstandings, whatever they may be - I just want to ask you about this here Princess Bonga - er, Bongawhat’s her name.”

“Bongawee,” said Fatty, politely. “I was going to tell you about her. She doesn’t exist.”

Goon didn’t take this in at all. He stared at Fatty, bewildered. Then he poked a big fat finger into the boy’s face.

“Now you look here - you can pretend all you like that she doesn’t exist, but I saw her with my own eyes. She’s important in this here case, see? You may want to pretend that you don’t know her now, nor where she is, but I’m not having any of that. I’m in charge of this, and I’m going to demand answers to my questions. Where’s this Princess now?”

Fatty hesitated. “Well - I’ve already told you she doesn’t exist,” he said. “There’s no such Princess. It was only Bets dressed up.”

Goon went a dull red, and his eyes bulged a little more. He pursed up his mouth and glared. Now what was this boy up to? The Princess was Bets dressed up! What nonsense! Hadn’t he heard her talk a foreign language with his own ears?

“You’re making up a tale far some reason of your own, Master Frederick,” he burst out at last. “I not only saw the Princess, but I heard her. She talked all foreign. Nobody can talk foreign if they don’t know the language.”

“Oh yes, they can,” said Fatty. “I can ‘talk foreign’ for half an hour if you want me to. Listen!”

He poured out a string of idiotic, completely unintelligible words that left Mr. Goon in a whirl. He blinked. How did this boy do these things?

“There you are,” said Fatty, at last. “Easy! You try, Mr. Goon. All you have to do is to let your tongue go loose, if you know what I mean, and jabber at top speed. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just complete nonsense. You try.”

Mr. Goon didn’t even begin to try. Let his tongue go loose? Not in front of Fatty, anyway! He might try it when he was by himself, perhaps. In fact, it might be a good idea. He, too, might be able to “talk foreign” whenever he pleased. Mr. Goon made a mental note to try it out sometime when he was quite by himself.

“See?” said Fatty, to the dumbstruck policeman. “I only just let my tongue go loose, Mr. Goon. Do try. Anyway, that’s what Bets and the others did - we didn’t really ‘talk foreign’ as you call it.”

“Do you mean to say that that procession Ern was with was just Bets and your friends dressed up?” said poor Mr. Goon, finding his tongue at last. “What about the State Umbrella?”

Fatty had the grace to blush. “Oh that - well, actually it was a golf umbrella belonging to my mother,” he said. “I tell you, it was all a joke, Mr. Goon. Ern happened to come along when they were all dressed up, and you know what he is - he just fell for everything, and swallowed the whole tale of Princess and lady-in-waiting and all! We went out for ice-creams - and then we met you!”

Mr. Goon suddenly saw it all now. He was full of dismay and horror. To think of all he had told the Chief Inspector too! How was he to get out of that? He buried his face in his hands and groaned, quite forgetting that Fatty was still there.

Fatty felt extremely uncomfortable. He didn’t like Mr. Goon at all, but he hadn’t meant to get him into this humiliating fix. He spoke again.

“Mr. Goon, it was a silly mistake and most unfortunate, of course, that the Prince Bongawah should go and disappear just after we’d pretended Bets was his sister. I’ve told the Chief Inspector all about it. He’s just as annoyed with me as you are, but he does see that it was pure coincidence - just an unlucky chance. We’re all very sorry.”

Mr. Goon groaned again. “That golf umbrella! I told him it was a State Umbrella. He’ll think I’m potty. Every one will think I’m potty. Here I am, struggling for promotion, doing my very best, and every time you come along and upset the apple-cart. You’re a toad of a boy, that’s what you are!”

“Mr. Goon, I am sorry about this,” said Fatty. “Look here - let’s work together this time. I’ll try and make up for this silly beginning. We’ll solve this mystery together. Come on - be a sport!”

“I wouldn’t work with you if the Inspector himself told me to!” said Mr. Goon, rising heavily to his feet. “Once a toad, always a toad! And what would working with you mean? I’ll tell you! False clues put under my nose! Me running about at night to find people that aren’t there! Me arresting the wrong person while you’ve got the right one up your sleeve! Ho - that’s what working with you would mean!

“All right,” said Fatty, getting angry at being called a toad so often. “Don’t work with me, then. But if I can put any information your way I will, all the same - just to make up for upsetting your apple-cart.”

“Gah!” said Goon, stalking out. “Think I’d listen to any information from you! You think again, Master Frederick Trotteville. And keep out of this. I’m in charge, see, and I’ll solve this mystery or my name’s not Theophilus Goon!”

A Little ‘Portry’

Mr. Goon went to telephone the Chief Inspector. He felt extremely gloomy and downhearted. Why did he always believe everything Fatty said and did? Why didn’t he spot that the State Umbrella was no more than a golf umbrella? What was there about that pest of a boy that always made him come to grief?

“I’ll never believe a word he says again,” thought Mr. Goon, taking down the telephone receiver. “Never in this world! He’s a snake in the grass! He’s a - a toad-in-the-hole. No - that’s a pudding. Talking about me working with him! What sauce! What cheek! What…”

“Number please?” said the voice of the exchange for the third time, and Mr. Goon collected himself and gave the Chief Inspector’s number.

“Letting your tongue go loose too,” he went on thinking. “What does he mean? Let’s try it - abbledy, abbledy, abbledy…”

“What’s that you say?” asked a surprised voice the other end, and Mr. Goon jumped. “Er - can I speak to Chief Inspector Jenks, please?” he asked.

The conversation between the Inspector and Mr. Goon was short, and much more satisfactory to Mr. Goon than he had dared to hope. Apparently Inspector Jenks was annoyed with Fatty, and although a little sarcastic about people who believed in false princesses and particularly in State Umbrellas, he said far less than Mr. Goon had feared.

“All right, Goon,” he finished. “Now for pity’s sake put your best foot forward, and get something sensible done. It’s in your district. Go and interview the boys up in the camp, use your brains, and PRODUCE RESULTS!”

“Yes, sir,” said Goon. “And about that boy Frederick Trotteville, sir - he’s not to…”

But the Chief Inspector had rung off, and Goon stared at the silent receiver crossly. He had meant to put in a few well-chosen remarks about Fatty’s shocking deception, and now it was too late.

Fatty told the others the result of his telephone call to the Chief Inspector, and of his interview with Goon. Bets was sorry for Goon. She didn’t like him any more than the others did, but all the same she thought he hadn’t had quite a fair deal this time - and it was really her fault because she had passed herself off so gleefully as the Princess Bongawee!

“We really will try to help him this time,” she said. “We’ll pass him on anything we find out.”

“He probably won’t believe a word,” said Fatty. “Still - we could pass anything on through Ern. He might believe Ern.”

Ern was still there. He looked alarmed. “Here - don’t you go telling me things to pass on to my uncle,” he protested. “I don’t want nothing to do with him. He don’t like me, and I don’t like him.”

“Well, Ern, it would only be to help him,” said Bets, earnestly. “I feel rather awful about everything really - especially about the bit where I called him ‘frog-face’ in broken English!”

Fatty laughed. “Gosh - I’d forgotten about that. Fancy you doing that, young Bets! He’ll be calling you a toad, if you call him a frog!”

“It was awfully rude of me,” said Bets. “I can’t think what came over me. Ern - you will pass on anything we want you to, to your uncle, won’t you?”

Ern couldn’t resist Bets. He had a tremendous admiration for her. He rubbed his hand over his untidy hair, and stared helplessly at her.

“All right,” he said. “I’ll do what you say. But mind, I don’t promise he’ll believe me. And I’m not going too near him, either. I’ll tell him over a fence or something. You don’t know what a temper my uncle’s got.”

“Oh yes, we do,” said Fatty, remembering some very nasty spurts of temper that Mr. Goon had shown in the past. “We don’t really want to help him, Ern, but we do want to make up for messing him about this time, that’s all. We’ll make amends, if we can’t be friends.”

“I say! That last bit sounds like portry,” said Ern.

“We’ll make amends,

If we can’t be friends.”

See? It’s portry, isn’t it?”

“No - it just happened to rhyme, that’s all,” said Fatty. “By the way, you used to write a lot of poetry - er, portry, I mean, Ern - do you still write it?”