“No go!” said Larry gloomily. “Dash it all! Where on earth is he?”
“He might be one of those fishermen,” said Daisy. “Look—sitting solemnly fishing on the bank. That one over there looks most like Fatty—the way he’s sitting somehow. And he’s got a position that gives him a very good view of Frinton Lea.”
“That’s the one who said ‘Sh’ to Bets,” said Larry. “We’d better be careful, or he’ll shush us too. Walk up very very quietly.”
So they walked up softly—so very softly that the fisherman didn’t hear them coming at all. They looked at his hands—hands were always a give-away, because they couldn’t very well be altered. But the fisherman wore gloves. They looked at his feet—he wore Wellingtons! He also wore a large shady hat that hid his face.
The fisherman had no idea at all that anyone was just behind him. He suddenly opened his mouth and gave a bored yawn—and that gave the game away at once! It was Fatty’s yawn! Fatty always yawned loud and long, and this was Fatty all right.
Larry sat down beside him with Daisy on the other side. “Fatty!” said Larry in a low voice. “We’ve found the thief.”
The fisherman immediately became Fatty, and gave a low whistle. He looked down at Larry and Larry felt quite startled. The eyes were Fatty’s, but that was all! Fatty had his false teeth in, the ones that slid over his own, and he had also done something peculiar to his eyebrows. He wore a silly little moustache, and these things made him look a different person altogether. But his eyes were the same, direct and clear and shrewd.
“What did you say?” asked the fisherman, in Fatty’s own voice. Larry repeated what he had said.
“See that fellow over there in the boat?” said Larry. “Well, he’s the thief! You should see his enormous feet and hands—and he’s got a cough like a sheep, too. He’s the one, Fatty. I bet he lives at Frinton Lea. We’ve found him!”
Fatty was silent for a moment. “Are you sure about it?” he said at last. “Well, I’ll sit here and keep an eye on him and you go and telephone to Goon.”
“Telephone to Goon?” said Larry, surprised. “Why should we let him know? We’re not working with him, are we?”
“You do as I say,” said Fatty. “If he’s not in, telephone again after a while. Tell him all about the awful fellow in the boat. He’ll be thrilled. Tell him I’m keeping an eye on him till he comes down to arrest him.”
Larry and Daisy were puzzled. They looked at Fatty, but his face was so different, with its protruding teeth and moustache and eyebrows that they could not tell what he was really thinking.
“All right,” said Larry, getting up, puzzled that Fatty did not show more excitement. He went off with Daisy to find Bets and Pip.
“I believe old Fatty’s quite jealous because we found the thief before he did,” said Larry. “Pretty tame ending to the mystery anyway—handing the thief over to Goon like this!”
Daisy was disappointed too. It wasn’t like Fatty to be jealous. They went to Bets and Pip and sat down beside them. They told them in a whisper what they were to do.
“We’ll all go and telephone,” said Daisy. “I’m fed up with messing about here now. Fatty says he’ll keep an eye on the thief out there. He can see him from where he is.”
They left the river and walked back up to the town. They decided to go to the post office to telephone—but alas, Goon was not in. His charwoman answered the telephone. She didn’t know where he was, but said he had left a note to say he would be back by half-past four at the latest.
“Blow! It’s only about a quarter to four now,” said Larry. “Let’s go and get some ice-cream and lemonade, and wait for a bit.”
So they had ice-creams—two each—and iced lemonade in the little sweet-shop. That took them about half an hour. Then they strolled back to the telephone box to try their luck again.
This time Goon answered the telephone himself. Larry looked round at the others. “He’s in,” he said. “Good!”
“Police here,” said Goon’s voice sounding gruff and sharp. “What is it?”
“Mr. Goon! It’s Laurence speaking, Frederick Trotteville’s friend,” said Larry. “I’ve something to report—about that robbery case—the two cases, I mean.”
“Well—go on,” said Goon sharply.
“We’ve found the thief,” said Larry, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. “We saw him today.”
“Where?” asked Mr. Goon.
“In a boat just opposite Frinton Lea,” said Larry. “He’s been there ages. Probably he lives at the boarding-house. You remember there was a scrap of paper with Frinton on it?”
There was a peculiar noise at the other end. “What did you say?” said Larry, but Goon was silent. Larry went on eagerly.
“He’s a frightful-looking fellow, Mr. Goon. We recognized him because of his colossal feet and huge hands. He’s very ugly—puffy cheeks, rather protruding eyes—and he’s got a cough like a sheep—just like Mrs. Williams and Jinny said. If you go down to the river now, you’ll catch him. Fatty’s keeping his eye on him for you.”
Larry paused. Goon didn’t seem to be taking this in. “Mr. Goon—are you going to arrest him?” asked Larry.
A loud snort came down the telephone—then a bang. Goon had put down his receiver so hard that surely he must have chipped it!
“He’s rung off,” said Larry amazed. “Whatever’s the matter with him?”
A Tea-Party—and a Brain-Wave
Larry and the others stepped out of the telephone box into which they had all crowded. Larry repeated the conversation. They were very puzzled.
“Better go back and tell Fatty,” said Larry at last. “It’s quite obvious that Goon doesn’t believe us. So we shall have to do something about it now. I’ve a good mind to ring up the Inspector.”
“No. Don’t do that till we’ve asked Fatty,” said Bets. “It seems to me there’s something funny about all this. Let’s go back to Fatty.”
“Why—there he is!” said Daisy suddenly, and sure enough, there was Fatty! He was himself now, very spruce and clean, with Buster trotting delightedly at his heels.
The others poured out of the post-office and stared in astonishment at Fatty, who grinned back.
“Fatty! Have you left him? How did you get home and change so quickly? What’s happened?” asked Larry.
“Oh, he went immediately you left,” said Fatty. “So I left too, of course.”
“Did you follow him? Where did he go?” asked Daisy.
“No. I didn’t follow him,” said Fatty. “There wasn’t any point in doing so—I knew quite well where he was going. Did you telephone Goon?”
“Yes. He was out the first time—but we got him the second time,” said Larry. “I told him all about the frightful fellow in the boat—all the details, of course—and he just gave a snort and banged the receiver down. I suppose he didn’t believe me.”
Fatty suddenly began to laugh. He laughed as if he had been keeping it in for some time. He exploded, held on to the railings, and laughed till the tears came into his eyes. Bets began to laugh too. He looked so funny, and his laughter was really infectious.
“What’s the matter?” said Larry suspiciously. “What’s the joke? You’re acting most peculiarly today, Fatty. So is Goon.”
“Yes. You’re right about him,” said Fatty, wiping his eyes. “Oh dear—I’d have given anything to see Goon’s face when you rang him up and told him what a hideous fellow he was, with his big feet and hands and protruding eyes!”
The others stared, puzzled at first—and then a great light dawned on them. Larry sank down on to a wooden bench by the bus-stop. He felt suddenly weak.
“Gosh! You don’t mean to say—you don’t really mean to say that that frightful fisherman in the boat was Goon—Goon himself!”
“Well—think back to him,” said Fatty. “How you could all fall for that ridiculous disguise of his I really don’t know. You ought to be ashamed of yourselves. Why, Goon himself stuck out a mile in that frightful get-up. And you actually go and think he’s the thief!”
“Oh, Fatty—I put the idea into the others’ heads,” said Bets as if she was going to burst into tears. “I saw his big feet—and hands—oh, Fatty!”
“You beast, Fatty—you told us to go and telephone to Goon—and we’ve gone and described him to himself!” said Daisy, full of horror. “Oh, Fatty—you really are a beast.”
“Serves you right,” said Fatty unfeelingly, and began to laugh again. “Fine lot of detectives you are, I must say—go and hunt for a thief and pick on the only policeman of the village, in disguise! As Goon would say—Gah!”
“No wonder he snorted and banged the receiver down,” said Daisy, still more alarmed. “I say—I hope he won’t go round and complain to our parents again.”