‘It seems quite fair to me!’ said Bets, who disliked Mr. Goon more than any of the others did. ‘Oh, Fatty - tell us all you know from these clues, do, do, do!’
‘Now, Bets, if you like to think hard and study these clues, you would know as much as I do,’ said Fatty. ‘Come on - let’s go home - and on the way you can all think hard and if nobody can find out what these clues mean, or who they’re pointing to, then I’ll tell you myself. But give your brains a chance, do!’
In silence except for Buster’s occasional yaps at a stray cat, they went home to Pip’s. When they got into the drive they saw a big black car there.
‘Whose is that?’ said Bets, in wonder.
‘And there’s Mr. Goon’s bike,’ said Daisy, pointing to where it stood by the front door. ‘He’s here too.’
Mrs. Hilton suddenly opened the front door and stood there, waiting for them, looking pale and worried.
‘Come in this way,’ she said. ‘I’m glad you’ve come. Mr. Goon is here - saying most peculiar things - and he’s got Inspector Jenks over too!’
‘Oh! Is he here?’ cried Bets in delight, and rushed into the drawing-room. The big Inspector sat there, his eyes twinkling as he saw Bets. He was very fond of her.
She flung herself on him. ‘I haven’t seen you since the Christmas holidays! You’re bigger than ever! Oh - there’s Mr. Goon!’
So there was, sitting upright in a corner, looking curiously pleased with himself.