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[Lucky Star]

"Right then" said Fatty briskly, "now that we've decided that this is a mystery we had better get on with solving it". He took out his notebook and pen. Daisy frowned. "There is'nt much to go on at this point is there" she said. "Oh I dont know" said Larry, "we've got a shoe and we know that old Mr Jones heard mysterious noises, obviously we have to do some digging around". "Ooh shall we have a list of jobs to do then Fatty" asked Bets her eyes shining. Fatty smiled at her "Yes Bets he said, I think you and Daisy should interview the girl in the paper shop, after all she was the first person Mr Jones told about the noises". "Larry you and I will go and speak to old Mr Jones, goodness I do hope old Clear-Orf has'nt scared him half to death".

"What about me" asked Pip. Fatty grinned "You can go to Goons house" he said "and see if you can find out whether or not this is shoe".

"Ok" said Pip "I think I can do that all right". "When shall we all do these things its getting late now". "Yes" said Fatty looking at his watch, "I think we'll leave it till tomorrow morning, lets meet here at two o clock to review progress".

The sound of a bell was heard. "Thats my dinner bell" said Fatty and got up. The others rose as well and filed out the door. "Good luck everyone" called Bets as she cycled away, "Oh is'nt it nice to be The Five Find-outers and dog again".

[Daisy]

CHAPTER 3. A BUSY MORNING.
Bets rubbed her eyes and sat up in bed. Why was she feeling so excited? she asked herself, and then as sleepiness fled and she woke up properly she remembered with a little shiver of excitement that today the Find-Outers would be in action again! Glancing at her little alarm clock she realised her mother had allowed her to sleep in past her usual breakfast time. At least that's what she thought at first.
"I wonder if Pip's up yet" she thought as she jumped out of bed.
Just then a bang on her door gave her the answer.
"Wake up sleepy head." shouted Pip "We've work to do today!"
Bets ran to the door calling as she ran "OK, I'm nearly ready!"
Pip flung the door open and looked at her in disgust.
"Nearly ready" he said scornfully "You're not even dressed!"
"I will be in a minute, go on down and see what's for breakfast." Bets answered.

A few minutes later Pip and Bets were sitting eating a belated breakfast of cold toast and luke-warm coffee. Mrs Hilton came into the room saying severely
"I called you ages ago so now you must just put up with a cold meal before you start on clearing out the playroom. It's looking disgustingly untidy considering you've only been at home for 3 days."
Pip and Bets stared at their mother in horror.
"But we've got to go out!" said Bets "We promised Fatty we'd....."
She gave a yelp as Pip's foot landed hard on her toes.
"Must we do it now?" asked Pip "We had some plans to do something else."
"If it involves Frederick, then I certainly think you should attend to your duties here first." said Mrs Hilton firmly."Now bring the plates through into the kitchen when you've finished." and she swept out of the room, rather annoyed that she had had to be so strict so soon after the children were together again, but determined not to let them race all over Peterswood for most of their holiday.
Pip and Bets looked at each other gloomily.
"You needn't have squashed my foot so hard." grumbled Bets.
"You were just about to say far too much, just like you usually do, baby" said Pip crossly.
"What are we going to do then?" asked Bets, for once ignoring the jibe about her age.
"We'd better ring Larry and Fatty and make a later start than we'd intended." said Pip.
"They'll understand."
So it was already getting on for dinnertime when the Find-Outers met up and then went on their various ways to carry out their investigations.
Daisy and Bets decided to go to the paper shop with a little pocket money and buy some sweets.
"Let's take ages to decide what to buy." said Daisy "So hopefully we can get talking to the girl there if the shop's empty."
The girls spent a few minutes gazing through the shop window before going in. It looked as if they would be the only customers, so feeling pleased,they went in.
The girl who delivered papers and also served in the shop was leaning against her side of the counter looking rather bored. She stood up as the girls came in and waited expectantly for their order.
"Hello," said Daisy politely. "I hope you don't mind, but we haven't got a lot of pocket money so can we have a good look at your sweets please?"
The girl smiled. "Yes, of course you can. You home for the hols. again."
"Yes" replied Daisy, "but we've only got a few days, It's half term. Back to school at the beginning of next week. Has anything exciting been happening here recently?"
"Funny you should say that." said the girl, leaning confidentially over the counter again. "Do you know old Mr Jones - him that's quite deaf?" and before the girls could even nod or say "yes", she went on,"he's been hearing strange noises and he's quite put out by it."
"What do you mean?" asked Bets, feeling she should make some contribution to the conversation. "What sort of noises, and how does he hear them if he's deaf? They must be awfully loud,"
"I don't really know", said the girl "But he was in here telling me how he sort of senses bangs and squeaks coming from the house next door. Fair puts the wind up him he says."
"Has it been going on long?" asked Daisy
"About a week, he said," said the helpful girl. "He's all on his own and its worrying him. I told him he ought to tell the police and he said he would think about it."
Daisy and Bets knew he had done so and as they couldn't think of anything else to ask, they chose some sweets quickly and then left the shop.
"Not much new there," said Daisy.
"Only there are squeaks as well as bangs!" said Bets with a giggle. "I wonder what they can be."
Meanwhile Fatty and Larry were on their way to Mr Jones's house for the third time in not much more than 24 hours.

[Lenoir]

Fatty had decided that they should wear disguises.
“Nothing too elaborate. It’s just a precaution, in case Goon finds out that Mr. Jones has had some visitors, and asks him to describe them,” he explained to Larry. “A good detective doesn’t take any chances you know.”
Larry nodded. He knew Fatty like to disguise himself, and it would make it more exciting. They put on old clothes and checked caps. Larry pencilled in a thin moustache over his upper lip and added a scar for good measure. Fatty looked longingly at his row of red wigs, but knew that it was asking for trouble to wear one. Goon would smell a rat at once if he got to hear about it. He settled for a wig of thick, coarse brown hair instead and they set off. Buster had been left at home.

“What reason are we going to have for the visit?” asked Larry as they walked along. “We can’t very well just knock and ask him straight out about the noises.”
“We can’t,” agreed Fatty. “We could pretend that out model aeroplane flew into the garden of the empty house and ask Mr Jones if there was a caretaker we could speak to.”
“That’s not a bad idea, Fatty,” said Larry, “did that come from one of your detective books?”
“Well, no. As a matter of fact, I got the idea from “Three Cheers Secret Seven”,” said Fatty honestly.

This time the street was deserted. The twp boys went in through the gate and went to the door. Larry knocked smartly on the door. They could hear a radio playing inside the house, but no one came.
“Better knock again. He’s almost deaf, you know,” said Fatty glancing around to see if he could spot anything else in the garden.
Larry banged hard on the door. There was still no reply.
“Here, let me show you,” said Fatty, getting a little impatient.
He lined up his knuckles in a special way that he had read about in books on the subject, and delivered the knock. It wasn’t too loud, and it wasn’t too soft.
“Just right, I think,” he murmured. And sure enough there came the sound of footsteps from within.
“Golly, Fatty, that was clever,” said Larry admiringly.
“Ssh, we’re in disguise, remember. Call me Alf or Bert. You can be Ted.”

The door opened and Mr. Jones appeared.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“Good afternoon,” said Fatty in a voice rather like Ern’s. “Our model aeroplane flew into the garden next door and it seems to be empty. We were…”
He broke off as it became clear that Mr. Jones wasn’t hearing him.
Apparently his Ern-like voice was not carrying very well. Larry spoke up in a deep resonant voice and explained the situation. This time Mr Jones heard.
“There’s no caretaker that I know of. It’s got a high wall, but no doubt you’ll get over it with a bit of help.” He suddenly lowered his voice and looked at them keenly.
“If you wants a bit of advice, stay away – model aeroplane or no model aeroplane. There’s somethin’ going on there.”

Fatty felt a sudden thrill when he heard this and looked at Larry.
“Ask him for more details, er, Sid,” he whispered.
“Don’t you go speaking behind my back, now!” said Mr Jones turning on Fatty.
“He’s sorry,” said Larry hastily. “Er, what did you mean about something going on there? It’s empty isn’t it?”
“I’ve heard noises at night – weird unearthly noises I tell you. And last night I looked out and I thought I saw a light flickering in one of the windows. The top storey has a window facing my house.”
“Do you know what the time was?” asked Fatty adopting a more powerful voice, not unlike Inspector Jenks’ tones.
“It must have been about midnight. Mebbe a bit after.”
“Have you told the police?” asked Larry.
“Not yet. That fellow Goon doesn’t seem to be interested anyways. He was here yesterday, but has he done anything? No.”
“Well, we must be off,” said Fatty, feeling that they mustn’t spend too long standing at the front door in case Goon came along.
“Now remember what I said. Be careful if you go in there,” said Mr Jones, who had quite enjoyed the discussion. It wasn’t often that people were interested in what he had to say.
“We might just leave it after all. It wasn’t that expensive,” said Larry, thinking it would be best to let Mr. Jones think they hadn’t gone nosing around. “Good day Sir.”

The two boys walked back up the path, keeping a look out for Mr Goon. But the policeman was probably already tucking into his lunch, with the prospect of an afternoon snooze afterwards.
“There must be something going on there like he said,” remarked Larry.
“Well, we know something Goon doesn’t – the light in the window. That is, if the old man’s eyes weren’t playing tricks,” said Fatty. “Come on, we’re going to be late for dinner. My mother’s in too, so I mustn’t be late.”
They went back to Fatty’s shed and changed back into their normal clothes. Larry sped off, and Fatty took a more leisurely walk to the dining room. Buster greeted him uproariously.
“Oh there you are Frederick,” said Mrs Trotteville. “I was wondering where you were. Buster was getting restless. Cook is just about to serve lunch.”
“You know I’d never miss one of Cook’s delicious lunches, Mother,” said Fatty solemnly.
“Oh go on with you,” said Cook, pleased. When the pudding was served Fatty saw that she had given him an extra large helping.
“That’s not going to help your dieting,” said Mrs Trotteville, noticing the heaped plate.
“I can always go for a nice long walk this evening,” said Fatty. He wondered how the others had got on. He would have to call a meeting so they could report back. It would be interesting to hear how Pip had fared.

[Daisy]

Pip had not fared at all well. After confidently stating that he could find out what Mr Goon knew, he realised he hadn't a clue how to go about it. The others had left him to think of something on his own, and Pip suddenly realised it was much easier to work as a group, where ideas could be discussed, than to go it alone. He wandered down to the village dairy and decided he might as well think in comfort. Going inside, he was greeted by the friendly owner.
"Hello, back for another holiday then?" she asked Pip brightly, and then her face fell as she realised he was on his own. Reading her expression correctly Pip grinned as he answered "Only a short mid term break. Were you hoping we were all here to eat mountains of your cakes? Sorry to disappoint you - there's only me at the moment but I wouldn't mind a glass of lemonade and a nice cake to put me on till my lunch!"
"I hope you haven't fallen out with your friends." answered the lady as she bustled off to get Pip's order.
"No, of course not, the others are busy at the moment but we're all meeting later - maybe here if we can find enough pocket money!" answered Pip with a laugh.
He sat looking out of the window as he slowly ate his cake. Everything was very peaceful. From where he sat he could see the end of the road where the Police house was, but not the house itself. He thought over what they had gathered so far and realised there was a lot more work to be done before they would have any idea of what, if anything, was going on next door to Mr Jones. After finishing his little snack he looked at his watch and finding that it was about time he made for home to avoid another telling off he quickly left the shop. Passing the end of the road he was just in time to see Mr Goon going into his house, no doubt with dinner on his mind! Angry with himself for having achieved nothing, Pip made his way slowly back home, wondering what his reception would be when he met with the others that afternoon.

[Lenoir]

Chapter 4. Afternoon Tea and another Meeting.

Pip arrived half a minute late for lunch and as a punishment Mrs Hilton instructed the cook to give him no dessert.
He ate his meal in gloomy silence. What a day he was having.
“You can have some of mine,” said the soft-hearted Bets, when her mother was out of the room.
“No. I’ll take my punishment, “said Pip, who had had a strict upbringing. He was glad he had stopped at the dairy. The cake compensated for the loss of his dessert.
“Was it Goon’s shoe?” asked Bets eagerly. But Pip was not in the mood for talking.

Fatty phoned the Hiltons at three o’clock. Bets answered the phone.
“Can you come over? We need to discuss the latest developments,” said Fatty importantly.
“Oh Fatty, that sounds exciting,” said Bets. “Hold on a minute. Mother is calling me.”
Fatty held on patiently. There was a rapid interchange of words on the other side and then Bets came back on the line.
“Mother says you can come to tea. She doesn’t want us going out as an aunt is visiting later on.”
“Righto. We can have the meeting in your playroom. I’ll tell Larry and Daisy,” said Fatty.

By half past three the Find Outers were gathered in the playroom. Fatty looked approvingly at the plates of cakes and sandwiches.
“There’s some biscuits for Buster as well,” said Bets, giving the little dog a pat.
“Right, let’s start,” said Fatty. “I want to hear the reports and then we can discuss what to do next.”
“We’ll have to get a move on,” remarked Larry. “We’ve only got a week, and we’re a few days into it already.”
“Quite,” agreed Fatty. “Well, you go first, ladies.”
“We went to the sweet shop and saw the girl,” said Daisy. “She confirmed that Mr. Jones had heard noises.”
“And it wasn’t just bangs, but squeaks as well,” added Bets with a giggle.
Fatty wrote this in his notebook. “That might be important,” he said.
“We didn’t find out a lot I’m afraid,” said Daisy.
“Sometimes detective work is like that – you have to just chip away, and then suddenly a breakthrough is made,” said Fatty. He turned to Pip. “Your turn, Pip.”

“Well,” began Pip hesitantly. “I didn’t really get very far. I couldn’t for the life of me think of how to go about it. I’m a bit of a failure I’m afraid.”
He looked away in embarrassment, wishing the earth would open up and swallow him.
Fatty considered the matter. If he had been Julian he would told Pip that he had “let down the side” and that he must pull up his socks if he was ever going to make anything of his life. If he had been Peter he would have read Pip the riot act and fired him on the spot.
But being Fatty, he did none of these things at all. Instead he addressed Pip.
“Well, never mind; it wasn’t any easy task. As a matter of fact, I might have struggled with it a bit myself. Perhaps we should examine the shoe in more detail first, and see if we can find any clues.”
“I’ll go and get it,” said Pip, glad to do something. “Thanks, Fatty. I feel a bit of an idiot.” He went off to get it.
“Let’s have some tea and cakes,” said Daisy, breaking an awkward silence. “Bets, hand them out. You’re the hostess.”
The little girl handed out sandwiches and cakes and went to the kitchen for the tea.
“Go and carry the tray for her, Larry,” said Fatty.
“No, why you don’t you do it? The cook thinks you’re the cat’s whiskers, the dog’s tail, and Jonny Wilkinson’s left foot, remember?” said Larry. It was quite true. Fatty was a firm favourite with the staff.
“Idiot!” said Fatty with a grin. “That’s why I don’t want to go. I don’t feel like doing a performance today.”
So, much to the cook’s surprise and dismay, it was Larry who appeared at the kitchen door to help with the tea things.
“Where’s Master Frederick?” demanded the cook.
“He’s otherwise engaged,” said Larry, stacking the cups and saucers on the tray.
“You tell him that we’re right down disappointed,” said the cook. “Aren’t we Muriel?” She turned to the maid for confirmation.
“Oh yes,” said Muriel shyly.
“Can’t you do any play acting, Master Laurence?” asked the cook with a wink.
“No,” said Larry.
“You could recite your poem,” said Bets, a little doubtfully.
“What’s the poem about?” asked the cook, interested.
“Er, a coffin,” said Larry.
“No, that won’t do,” decided the cook, noticing that Muriel had gone a whiter shade of pale.
“I’ll tell Frederick to come next time,” said Larry, thankful to get away. “Thanks for the tea.” He picked up the tray and Bets followed him.

“You were a long time,” said Fatty when they entered the playroom.
“Well, the cook wanted a “performance”,” said Larry. “I can tell you Fatty, I was glad to get away.”
“You’ll have to take up drama lessons,” said Fatty.
“I don’t think I have the time. Besides, I’m no actor,” said Larry, sipping his tea.
“Er, I’ve got the shoe,” said Pip, getting a bit tired of this sort of talk.
“Fatty, don’t you think we should let Buster sniff it and see if he recognises the smell?” said Bets suddenly.
“It’s a bit late for that now,” said Pip. “We’ve had it a day already. Smells wear off I would think.”
“You never know - it’s definitely worth a try,” said Fatty. “Buster, come here. Look at this shoe. Who’s is it boy?”
The little Scottie trotted over and sniffed at the shoe. He gave a bark and pawed at the shoe.
“If only he could talk,” said Daisy.
“Yes, despite what some people think, my dog isn’t conversationally gifted, and he can’t talk either,” said Fatty. Then seeing Daisy’s look of surprise he added: “Sorry, Daisy, I wasn’t meaning you. Just something I read somewhere.”
“Do you think that’s a bark of recognition?” asked Daisy.
“It’s difficult to say,” said Fatty, guardedly. “Sorry, Bets, it doesn’t look like he can tell us much.”
“Examine it, Fatty,” said Pip, passing the shoe to Fatty.
Fatty took out his set of tools and poked and prodded the shoe. But there was not even a name-tag, never mind a false bottom.
“It’s about Goon’s size, but that’s all,” said Larry, finishing his tea.
“You still have to tell us about your morning,” Daisy reminded him.
“Yes, you might as well go on Larry,” said Fatty.
Larry opened his own notebook and turned the pages. He had written down the happenings of the morning and he read it out.
“I’ve entitled it ‘Me and Mr. Jones’,” he said a little self-consciously, and he launched into it.
“Golly, first noises, and now a light as well,” said Pip when he had finished. “There must be a thing or two going on.”
“We could do with some more clues,” said Bets sadly. “And we don’t even have any suspects. It’s a funny sort of mystery isn’t it, Fatty?”
“I suppose it is,” said Fatty smiling at her. He addressed the group. “It’s time we put our experience to good use. We’ve solved over fifteen mysteries you know. Now what experiences can we draw from?”
“I don’t know. We haven’t had any quite like this,” said Larry looking blank.
“Oh, I’ve thought of something,” began Daisy. The others looked at her. She sometimes had good ideas.
Bets leaned forward in anticipation. Her hand slipped and knocked a cup over. Tea spilled out over the table.
“Clumsy!” said Pip at once. “That was your tea, Fatty, as well.”
“That makes it serious, then,” remarked Larry.
“Ooh, sorry!” said Bets and mopped it up with a big red handkerchief.
“Never mind, it was only a cup of tea. It’s not as if it was invisible ink,” said Fatty, consoling her. “Do carry on, Daisy!”

“Well, I was thinking that we’ve had a mystery with a empty house before – so we can be sure that if something looks suspicious, it probably is, especially with a name like ‘The Ivies’. Also, we know from another mystery that a shoe or a boot might not be all it seems. That shoe could have been given away to charity and bought by someone else.” Daisy paused for breath.
“Good thinking,” said Fatty, pleased.
“Where do the squeaks and noises fit in?” asked Larry.
“ It could be machinery or things being moved,” suggested Pip.
“Car thieves, furniture thieves,” said Larry. “I see now. But we didn’t see anything the other night.”
“They could be going underground,” said Daisy.

Mrs. Hilton suddenly appeared at the door. “Aunt June will be here shortly, Pip. I want you and Bets to tidy up and get ready.” She turned to the others. “I’m afraid I must ask you to go now.”
“Yes, Mrs Hilton. We lost track of time actually,” said Fatty. “Thanks for the tea.”
Mrs Hilton went back downstairs.
“Well, we have a few more ideas,” said Larry, “but I think we’ll have to go back to that house sometime, or maybe keep watch out side to see if anything is going on.”
“You’re right, Larry. We might have to keep watch in turns even. I’ll think it over and we’ll meet tomorrow morning 10 o’clock sharp in my shed. I'll take this shoe with me as well. Goodbye.” Fatty left by the side door and disappeared before the cook or Muriel could even get a glimpse of him.
Larry and Daisy walked home together.
“That was a bright idea of yours, Daisy,” said Larry. "I bet we solve this mystery before Goon does."

[Daisy]

Next morning the children arrived promptly at Fatty's shed and were soon solemnly sitting round waiting for Fatty to begin what Larry mischievously called 'his summing up'.
Fatty had spent the previous evening writing up all the points he and the others had made yesterday and had read them through a few times before he went to sleep.
"Well!" he began brightly "Have any of you any more ideas than we managed to think up before we went our separate ways yesterday?"
Pip and Larry looked at him in surprise.
"That sounds rather pompous Fatty" said Larry, "it means either you haven't any ideas yourself and you're hoping we have - or you have some great ideas and you hope we haven't!"
The girls burst into laughter at Fatty's startled face.Fatty himself stared at the two boys and then grinned.
"Sorry," he said "When I start thinking about mysteries I get carried away sometimes. Take no notice. Actually I have had one or two ideas but I wanted to hear yours first. Who's going to begin?"
Silence greeted this remark. If Fatty had some ideas then none of the others wanted to make any comment first. They had great faith in Fatty's powers of deduction.
"Go on Fatty," said Larry at last, "You've got something written down so you'd better start."
"OK then, but let's have some biscuits and lemonade while we're talking". So saying Fatty quickly handed round a packet of biscuits while Daisy poured out lemonade into the mugs Fatty kept in the shed for that purpose.
Settling back in his seat Fatty opened his notebook and began.
"Firstly, the shoe. Is it a clue or a red herring?"

[Ming]

NOT related to story.

This is going nice, but I really can't think of anything else! P'raps I'll mull over it while eating chocolate cake and some nice scones - hope something will come in my brain!

I like Lenoir's references to the Famous Five and Secret Seven.

[Ming]

Chapter 5 - Something surprising

"I think the shoe's a clue," said Bets at once. "Buster wouldn't paw at it so much if it wasn't a clue!"

Fatty smiled at her. "Buster isn't really that clever, Betsy. Well, we'll talk about it now."

"I suppose it is not a clue. A tramp might easily have dropped it where we found it, and Buster just got excited about it because it had the scent of rabbits on it. Only supposing that of course," he added.

Daisy objected, "Like Bets I'm inclined to think it's a clue."

Pip, tired of this shoe debate, said, "Oh come on, get on with things!"

"I was just going to," said Fatty pompously.

"Now, the next thing to do is create a plan. It has to be a good one, with no errors. A constructed..."

"Oh, cut that out!" said Larry, annoyed. "Just say what the plan is - if you've had any, that is."

"Of course I have! Don't underestimate the brains of Frederick Algernon Trotteville!" started Fatty, but the others threw things at him. His disguises.

Suddenly Pip noticed something and shouted for them to stop. Buster was pawing eagerly at pile of clothes. He seemed too excited for words. The Find-Outers watched him and Bets ran and pulled up some of the clothes. She gasped.

"Fatty, oh Fatty, it's the other shoe!"

Fatty drew a deep breath. "It's not a part of my wardrobe. Nope, I'm sure of it. Someone must have put it there. And I wonder who...."

"This confirms it," said Daisy. "The shoe is a clue." (Hey, that rhymes!)

The Find Outers were baffled. Who could have put the shoe there?

"Anyway," said Fatty, "I haven't said the real thing. We're gonna spend a night in the empty house and see what we can find."

Everyone's face lit up, but soon the girls' fell. "Not going, of course!" muttered Daisy bitterly. Bets was secretly glad.

Heavy breathing could be heard outside. Larry groaned. "Old Clear-Orf!"

"What's he want now?" asked Pip.

"OPEN IN THE NAME OF THE LAW!" Clear-Orf's voice thundered.

[Daisy]

The five children stared at each other in alarm as Buster ran towards the door barking at the top of his very loud doggy voice. Under cover of the noise Fatty said quickly,
"Get that lot cleared up and shove it all behind the cupboard. I'll have to open the door in a moment, so hurry."
In a very short time the floor was clear again and both the shoes were out of sight. Fatty dragged Buster away and opened the door.
Before Mr Goon could say anything Fatty addressed him indignantly,
"What ever do you think you are doing? How dare you come onto private property without the owner's permission and shout in such a threatening tone?"
Mr Goon hurriedly took a few steps back as Buster strained at his collar to get at his old enemy.
"Now then" he began "No need to take that tone with me. I'm here on official business."
Goon drew himself up to his full height, thrust his red face forwards at Fatty and continued,
"I'm given to understand you have appropriated goods which are not yours from an empty property."
Fatty gazed at the angry man in bewilderment, his mind racing as he stood there. The others had by now crowded to the door too.
"Ho, so you're all here then. Good! I can speak to you all at once."
"Well, carry on then." said Fatty as he regained his usual coolness. "I hope you have a very good reason for your statement, or I may have to make a complaint to your superior."
Mr Goon glared at Fatty, knowing quite well that Fatty would keep to his word and speak to their friend Chief Inspector Jenks if he felt it was necessary.
"I am aware that you were in the area of an empty house next to an old man - Mr Jones. It is my belief an article was taken from that garden. I also suspect some unwise person removed my bicycle from the front of Mr Jones's house into the said empty garden, thus affording me the chance to realise the aforesaid article had been removed." Mr Goon got more and more official in his tone as he spoke. Inwardly Fatty wanted to giggle, but rightly thought it would be unwise to do so at that moment.
"Yes?" said Fatty coldly. "Is that all. I hardly think that is a good reason for you to act as you did by thundering at the door of my shed. If that is all, I'll wish you good day and return to entertaining my friends."
Mr Goon went a shade redder as he looked at a composed Fatty who actually was feeling quite worried, but was determined not to let the pompous policeman think he had rattled him.
"I must make a search to apprehend the missing article. Step aside you lot." and as he spoke Mr Goon took a stride towards the doorway. Buster gave a loud growl and Fatty himself immediately said loudly,
"No further Goon, unless you happen to have a search warrant on you!"
Goon stopped, knowing he would put himself in the wrong if he persisted any further. Turning on his heel he walked up the path, shouting over his shoulder as he went,
"I'll soon see about that!"
Somewhat shaken the children went back inside and shut the door.
"Phew! What do you think that was all about?" said Larry. "This mystery has taken a strange turn, hasn't it!"

[Lucky Star]

They all felt a little shaken after Mr Goon's departure. Fatty was deep in thought. "Why was Goon so upset at something being removed from The Ivies' garden" he wondered aloud. "How could he have known that I removed a shoe?" "Oh Fatty dont you see" cried Bets, "it simply must be Mr Goon's shoe, it must be". "I dont know" said Pip seiously, "if it was Goons shoe then he must have known it was there to be removed which means he must have planted it deliberately". "We simply must find out whether or not it is Goons shoe" said Larry. "Thats the key thing at this moment".

Fatty stood up. "My head is simply bursting now" he said. "I cant make head nor tail of it and I hate feeling like this". "Lets go for a walk and see if anything occurs to us. Hopefully we wont run into old clear-orf again".

They all got up and filed silently out of the shed. "Oh dear" thought Bets, "it is dreadful when we cant work out the next stage of the mystery. I do hope the boys discover something tonight when they hide in the old house".

...........................

Mr Goon cycled towards his house feeling very angry indeed. The cheek of that toad, why the things he had said. Mr Goon was quite beside himself with rage as he turned into his street and two old ladies shrank back from quite alarmed at the sight of his angry red face.

As he opened his front door he could hear the telephone ringing but he ignored it and went into his parlour. He sat down heavily and mopped his brow. Still, he considered, at least his ruse had worked. He now knew from the reaction of those pests that they had found something in that garden. So that meant that the fat boy thought there was something more to the noises and lights than just old Jones' imagination. Very interesting. Goon snorted. "Well Master Frederick Trotteville" he sneered, "You wont get the better of me this time".

The door opened and in came Goon's housekeeper. "Telephone for you sir" she said sulkily, "not that I'm paid to answer the phone oh no but then theres a lot of things I have to do that I'm not paid for in this house and..." Goon brushed past her impatiently. "I have no time for this now Mrs Minns" he said importantly, "urgent police business to attend to". He picked up the phone.

"Hello, Hello" he barked "Goon here who is it and what do you want"? "Oh Mr Goon" said a voice that sounded vaguely familiar to him, "I'm just calling to ask you where your shoes are"? Goon stared at the wall, his face grew purple, his mind reeled. His shoes? Who was this fool to be asking him about shoes? was it a joke? Poor Goon had had quite enough of impertinent people today. He exploded. "Wh-Wh-Who is this" he roared into the receiver, "Shoes? I'll give you shoes I'll plant my shoes all over your silly face if you ever try this on again you- you - you", lost for words the angry policeman slammed down his phone with such force that his cat leapt in alarm from its snoozing on the stairs and fled mewing out into the kitchen.

For the second time that morning Goon sat down in his parlour and mopped his brow. Shoes indeed. He thought hard, what was best to do now? An idea struck him. He would go himself that very evening and hide himself near that old house and see if anything occurred. Why he might even practice a bit of disguising himself.

[Daisy]

Meanwhile the five Find-outers were walking slowly along the road thinking hard, until they found themselves near the dairy.
"Let's go in and have some cakes and a drink." said Fatty. "I always think I can think better if I'm eating something enjoyable! But first, I just want to make a quick phone call, you go in and I'll join you in a minute."
"Good idea!" approved Pip and the others all grinned as they marched in at the door of the little dairy where they had so often had a snack.
Fatty soon rejoined them and it wasn't long before they were sitting round a table by the window with a large selection of cakes in front of them.
"Tuck in." invited Fatty. "Now let's think this out. Anyone got any ideas?"
"Was your phone call anything to do with the mystery Fatty?" asked Daisy.
Fatty grinned. "I'll explain in a minute, but first I want ideas from you."
There was silence for a few moments then Bets ventured "Are we sure the shoes are a pair?"
The others looked at her in surprise, then as they thought about it they began to think that maybe they had just jumped to that conclusion.
"Does it really matter?" asked Larry. "We have two mysterious shoes to deal with whether they are a pair or not!"
"Let me see," said Fatty. "We find a shoe in the garden of an empty house. We take it home and then unaccountably another very similar, if not identical, one is hidden in my shed! Goon comes snooping round and makes out he knows we found something in The Ivies garden. Why?"
"Did he see it there? If you remember his bike was outside Mr Jones's house before we got near, and you took the bike in and picked up the shoe at the same time."said Pip.
"Good!" said Fatty. "I'll tell you who I phoned just now - it was Goon and what's more he sounded very surprised when I asked him if he'd mislaid any shoes!"
"Bets gasped. "How did you dare? he'll be really mad with you now."
"I didn't use my own voice, silly!" said Fatty "I disguised it, just as I do when I dress up. What's more, I don't think Goon knew we had anything. He may have guessed we were on the track of the empty house noises and tried to surprise us into giving something away."
"Gosh, that's well thought out Fatty" said Larry. "But where does that leave us now?"
Just then a familiar figure waved in at the window with a large grin on his face.
"Good gracious, look who's there! It's Ern. Come in and join us!" called Fatty through the open door, and in walked Ern looking very pleased with himself.
"Enjoying your new mystery?" he asked as he sat down on the chair offered to him by Pip.
The others gaped at him.
"What mystery is that?" asked Fatty "What have you heard?"
"Nothing" replied Ern "I don't know what you mean. I just wondered if you were puzzling over the Mystery of the Strange Shoes!"
"Ern Goon! Just tell us what exactly you're getting at. What do you know about any shoes, strange or otherwise?" asked Fatty as a sudden suspicion came into his head.
"Well, I know how you like to solve mysteries each time you're home, and you only have a few days so I thought you might like to puzzle your brains over something this week. I've had a great time thinking out how to give you something to work on! How are you getting on?"

[Green Hedges]

(Here by invite. Thanks Ming. Probably just a guest appearance - I’ll try not to derail this fine mystery in the making...)

Meanwhile, Mr Goon was still at home but feeling far from relaxed. What was troubling him? Well, for a start, that stupid phonecall about shoes. Had it been from the fat boy? Probably. Also, the presence of his nephew Ern was beginning to get on his nerves, though he was out for the moment. The boy had been quiet and tidy for a few days but now his stuff was all over the place, even in Mr Goon’s office. At a glance Mr Goon could come up with a pair of gloves, a jersey and a football boot. Ern was under instruction to keep his stuff upstairs in his own room. Failing that, it was up to Mrs Minns to tidy up after the lad. But where was she when there was a bit of extra work to be done? Not here, that’s for sure.

His own work was also getting him down. He’d received another report about a dead sheep from a farmer. The same farmer as before but was it the same sheep? It would be a lot easier if the farmer would give a number to each of his dead sheep, then Mr Goon would know what priority to give the case. Ten dead sheep on one farm would want looking into. But even then, what did the farmer expect him to do about it? Dig a hole? Couldn’t the farmer dig just as deep a pit as Mr Goon could?

Mr Goon decided to go out and get a breath of fresh air. Actually, what he wanted was a nice slow afternoon pint, so he walked to the west of the village where the Spade Oak was located on Haycock Lane next to Old Thatch. He had to pass close by the Ivies and the empty house on the way, but there was nothing doing there for the moment. Things would warm up at that so-called empty house later, and later is when Goon, incognito, would be in position to clock what was going on.

Passing Old Thatch, Mr Goon recalled an old case, The Mystery of the Burnt Cottage. The kids had worked that one out at the time but it was only later that Goon had realised what had happened. It had been the woman who used to live in Old Thatch that had set the outhouse on fire. Was that right? - sometimes his memory played tricks on him. Dick Hughes was her chauffeur-cum-gardener and he’d lived in a cottage in the grounds of Old Thatch. The person arrested for the crime was Mr Hick. And to get Hick all you did was take the H from Hughes and put it on the ick from Dick. The fat boy had taken great pleasure in explaining that to him one day. "Well, it will be me that will be explaining The Mystery of the Empty House to fattest Frederick, or my name’s not Theophilus Goon," said Mr Goon aloud as he entered the Spade Oak.

The place was half full. Didn’t any of these people have work to do? Mr Goon did, which was why he wasn’t going to be drinking Kirrin’s Revenge. “Pint of Smuggler’s Top, my good woman,” he said to the bar lady. Mr Goon took his drink to a quiet table and took out his notebook. He was thinking about the report he would make of the goings on at the empty house tonight. To be honest he could just about write down what would happen here and now. Those kids would be there, banging and squeeking, laughing and screaming. It would probably be a fancy dress party. Parties - Mr Goon had never been invited to any kind of party when he’d been a boy. There had been his own birthday party when he’d been ten years old, but that didn’t count because no-one else had turned up for it. Mr Goon remembered his father taking him out to a local park and firing a model rocket - his birthday present - up into the sky. Goon had wondered at the time what had happened to the rocket, for they’d never seen it again, and he wondered again now. Before launching the rocket, his father had christened it THEOPHILUS ONE. Well, THEOPHILUS ONE must be getting close to Saturn by now. Or maybe Uranus... Mr Goon brought himself back down to earth. Whatever happened at tonight’s party, it would all be in the sensible report that Mr Goon was going to prepare for Chief Inspector Jenks.

Half-way through his second pint, Goon had a great idea. He would give code names to the children so as to make his report for the Chief all the more impressive. He would call Bets... What would he call the little girl? Mr Goon knew he shouldn’t get bogged down in this, he should just let his mind go free as the lady in Old Thatch had kept going on at him about. ‘Ming’ is what he would call Bets. Easy! What about her brother, Pip? That’s the one that had been spying on Goon from the dairy the other day. Again Goon would just let his mind go free and see what he could come up with, ‘Abbledy, gabbledy, ‘Moonraker’’. Ha! This was easier than Mr Goon had thought it would be! What about a name for Larry. ‘Larry sucks,’ thought Mr Goon, thinking of several recent encounters. Suddenly, Goon realised that if he mixed up those letters he might get ‘Lucky Star’. He wasn’t going to go to the bother of checking that out, because anagrams were just CHILD’S PLAY, and because he’d already written the code name down in his notebook and was happy with it.

‘Three down, two to go,’ said Mr Goon, thinking about the names. ‘Two down, three to go,’ he said, ordering himself another pint. He needed a code name for the fat boy now. He wanted this to be subtle, so as not to give the game away that he hated Frederick Algernon Trotteville. How about ‘Lenoir’. That was French for the black toad. The Chief would know it was French, because he was an educated man, and would be doubly impressed that Goon was using a code within a code within a code. Did Goon mean that last ‘within a code’? Probably not.

Had he forgotten someone? Buster the dog could be ‘Kiki’, because that was like ‘Cuckoo’ and that dog was certainly barking mad. Excellent. But what about Daisy. Daisy...Daisy... Mr Goon felt his ability to come up with code names was fading fast. Something to do with the Smuggler’s Top, he suspected. He’d probably been served with a bad pint. Daisy..Daisy...Suddenly Mr Goon had the urge to sing. Why not, although he hadn’t been invited to the party at the empty house that night, he felt on top of the world:

“DAISY, DAISY, GIVE ME YOUR ANSWER DO.
I’M HALF CRAZY, OVER MY LOVE FOR YOU.
IT WON’T BE A STYLISH MARRIAGE,
I CAN’T AFFORD A CARRIAGE,
BUT YOU’LL LOOK SWEET,
A PROPER TREAT,
ON A BICYCLE BUILT FOR TWO.”

Mr Goon realised that everyone in the pub had stopped what they were doing to stare at him. "Mind your own damn business," he muttered, getting to his feet. On the way out, Mr Goon realised from a reflection in the window that his face was particularly purple. Not because he’d been drinking, but because he’d got a bit self-conscious there for a moment. Mustn’t let that distract him as he was leaving the pub, though. He didn’t want to fall down the steps like the last time. If he did that he might end up getting taken to the Red Lion in Beaconsfield again. And that wouldn’t be convenient on this of all days. All he wanted was a lie down on his own bed for a few hours. So that when it came time to go out and keep watch on the empty house that evening, he would be up for it. Really up for it.

[Ming]

That's really great!

Must get the old brains to work on this story, now.

[Daisy]

After they had got over their surprise at seeing Ern and hearing what he had to say, the Find-Outers decided to meet up again after lunch in Fatty's shed.
"You'd better come along as well Ern," said Fatty. " I want to hear more of what you've done and also tell you about a possible REAL mystery!"
"Coo!" said Ern. "Thanks Fatty. I'll be along as soon as I've had a spot of lunch here. I don't feel like going back to Uncle's at the moment."
"You mean you're actually staying with Mr Goon again?" asked Pip in amazement. "I should have thought you'd never want to go there again after the way he's treated you in the past!"
"Tell you later," was all Ern would say. "Slong."
"And slong to you too."said Fatty, amused to hear Ern was still running words together.
The others laughed as they left the shop and went off to their homes for lunch.
...................................................................................................

Soon after 2 o'clock all the Find-Outers and Ern were comfortably seated in Fatty's shed, eagerly waiting to hear each others news, fortunately quite unaware of their old adversary making a fool of himself at the other end of the village. Fatty began with a quick summary of what they had been up to since first visiting the empty house next to the Ivies on the previous Saturday.
"So you see Ern," he concluded, "Your shoe mystery has got mixed up with ours! Perhaps you can tell us what you were thinking when you began littering Peterswood with large shoes!"
"Daisy and Bets giggled. "You do exaggerate Fatty. There are only 2 shoes!"
"So far," replied Fatty darkly "But who knows how many more Ern has had to play with?"
Ern's face had gone rather red as he listened to Fatty's tale and now he burst in with,
"Oh dear! Of course there are only two shoes. I didn't dare pinch any more from Uncle or he might have noticed!"
"So they ARE Mr Goon's shoes then!" exclaimed Bets. "I thought they were!"
Fatty smiled at the excited little girl and then turned to Ern.
"Please tell us more Ern. Why are you in Peterswood at the moment, anyway?"
"Mum said she was going to send me to stay with some cousins who live miles away, while my bedroom is being done out, but I said I'd rather come here to see my friends so she asked if I could go to the Wooshes again but one of the twins is ill so I couldn't go there either. In the end she rang up Uncle Theo and said I was such a good help now that she was sure he would love to have me stay there! He said yes, so I didn't have much of a say - but it meant I could see you lot, so I can put up with it for a while." Ern was quite breathless after his long speech.
Fatty clapped him on the back and said "It's good to see you again Ern. We all feel pleased that you want to join in our activities for a few days, but we could have done without your Uncle's shoes!"
"Does your dear uncle know you were planning to spend time with us Ern?" asked Larry. "I hardly think he would be delighted with that idea!"
"Well no," said Ern awkwardly. "He did mention that he hoped I wouldn't run into you and you were only here for a few days anyway, which is why I thought I'd give you a mystery!"
"Well you did that all right!" said Pip. "But now we know the shoes aren't part of it we can get on with investigating the empty house."
"Let's plan our next move then." said Daisy. "You did say you might go to the house tonight to see if you could find anything out. Are you still going to do that?"
"I think so,"replied Fatty, little knowing that Mr Goon had had similar thoughts. "Let's meet here at 9 o'clock tonight. You girls can help us disguise ourselves and then go home. We'll make our way to the empty house and scout around for a way in."
Noticing Ern's wistful look he added "And if you can get away without being noticed you can come as well, but I don't want your uncle to smell any rats!"
Ern beamed at them all. "Thanks Fatty, I'd love to come and I'll be very careful."

[Daisy]

Have you had a look at this recently Ming? Time for another contribution from you maybe? -if school work allows of course!