Mystery #02 — The Mystery of the Disappearing Cat

He turned to Fatty. "Perhaps you, Frederick Trotteville would like to say a few words?"

There was nothing that Fatty wanted more. He swelled up almost as importantly as Goon had done.

"I should like to say, Inspector, that we Five Find-Outers know who stole Dark Queen," said Fatty, very loudly and clearly. Tupping gave one of his snorts, and so did Goon. Luke looked thoroughly scared. Miss Trimble's glasses fell off, much to Bets' delight.

"Go on, Frederick," said the Inspector.

"I should like to explain, sir, exactly how the theft was committed," said Fatty. The others looked at him admiringly. Fatty always knew the right words to use.

"We should like to hear you, if I may so," said the Inspector gravely, with a little twinkle in his eyes.

"Well, Inspector, Dark Queen was stolen twice, as you know," said Fatty. "Both times Miss Harmer was out, and Mr. Tupping was in charge of the cats.

Mr. Goon's mouth fell open, and he stared at Fatty in astonishment.

"Now that..." he began — but Inspector Jenks stopped him.

"Don't interrupt, Goon," he said. And old Clear-Orf dared say no more.

"I'll tell you how it was all done," said Fatty, enjoying himself immensely. "The thief stole Dark Queen out of the cage in the morning; but he cleverly painted a ring of hairs a creamy colour in another cat's tail, so that to anyone not knowing the cats extremely well that other cat seemed to be Dark Queen!"

There was a chorus of exclamations. Miss Trimble's glasses fell off immediately.

"Well," went on Fatty, "you can see that anyone coming to see the cats in the afternoon would think Dark Queen was there — but she wasn't. Then, when the right moment came, the thief hopped into the cage, rubbed the paint off the cat's tail with a rag soaked in turps, and then announced that Dark Queen was missing! So, of course everyone thought the cat must have been stolen in the afternoon, whereas she had been taken in the morning."

"And that's why everyone thought it was me that took the cat," broke in Luke. "Because I was the only one near the cage in the afternoons, and no one came near but me."

"Yes," said Fatty. "That was part of the plan, Luke. The blame was to be put on to you."

"Who was it?" demanded Luke, his face going scarlet with rage. "Just let me get my hands on him, that's all!"

The Inspector sent a glance at Luke and the boy sat back saying no more.

"How do you know all this?" asked Mr. Goon, his face a mixture of amazement, disbelief, and scorn. "It's just a silly make-up. You got to have proof of these things before you can say them."

"We have got proof," said Fatty triumphantly. He put his hand into his pocket. "Look! here is the bottle of turps. It was hidden down a rabbit-hole, with a tin of light-brown paint, used for the cat's tail, and an old paint-brush. Larry, get the other things. They're outside the door."

Fatty brandished the bottle of turps and the paint-brush for everyone to see. Miss Trimble's glasses fell off again, and she was too nervous to replace them. She stared at the clues with short-sighted eyes, and looked at Fatty as if he was the greatest detective in the world.

Larry brought in the rubber boots and the tin of paint. He set them down before Fatty. Tupping's eyes nearly fell out of his head when he saw his own boots there.

"Now," said Fatty, picking up the tin of paint, "here's the paint that was used."

"These boots were worn by the thief," said Fatty, and he pointed to the drops of light-brown paint on them. "And this is the handkerchief he soaked with turps, and used to wipe off the paint as quickly as possible from the cat's tail when he went into the cage — first time with Mr. Goon, second time with Miss Harmer."

"May I see that handkerchief?" said the Inspector with great interest He took it and smelt it. The smell of turps was still very strong on it. Fatty took the stone from his pocket, the one with the smear of light-brown paint on it. He handed it to the Inspector too.

"We found that just outside the cage, sir," he said. "That was one of our clues. The other clue was the smell of turps in the cat-house. Little Bets spotted that. She was a splendid Find-Outer."

Bets went red with joy. The Inspector beamed at her. He looked again at the handkerchief.

"This handkerchief has someone's name on it," he said. "I imagine it is the name of the thief?"

Fatty nodded. Luke leaned forward.

"Who is it?" he said. "Go on! you tell me who it is."

"Yes, whoever is it?" said Miss Harmer.

The Inspector looked gravely round the little company. Tupping had gone pale, and he kept swallowing hard. All his insolence and conceit had gone. One by one the others looked at Tupping and knew who was the thief.

"Tupping, what have you to say about all this?" said the Inspector in a voice gone hard as iron.

"What, it's Tupping!" said Mr. Goon in a half-choked voice, and he glared at the gardener with hatred and scorn. "You! Sucking up to me: taking me into the cage with you; telling me a pack of lies and making me look foolish like this!"