The other four came in more quietly, and shook hands with the big Inspector. They knew him well, for he had come to their help very often, when they were solving other problems. Buster capered round his ankles in delight, awaiting for the pat he knew would come.
Mrs. Hilton waited till the greetings were over, and then spoke in a worried voice.
‘Children! Mr. Goon brought Inspector Jenks over here today, when he was visiting Peterswood, because he had a serious complaint to make of your behaviour, especially one of you, and he thought that it would be a good thing if the Inspector reprimanded you himself. But I cannot imagine what you have been doing - unless you have been interfering in this anonymous letter business - and I said you were not to.’
Nobody said anything. Fatty looked politely and inquiringly at the Inspector.
‘Suppose you hold forth, Goon,’ said the Inspector, in his pleasant, courteous voice. ‘You have quite a lot to say, I believe.’
‘Well, sir,’ began Mr. Goon, in a righteous sort of voice, ‘I know your opinion of these here children has always been high - but I’ve always known more of them than you have, if you’ll pardon me saying so, sir - and they’ve bin getting above themselves, sir - meddling in things that don’t concern them, and hindering me in my business, sir - and one of them - this here boy by name of Frederick Trotteville, sir, I regret to inform you that he has meddled in this anonymous writing, and sent me a most rude and incivil letter, sir - and what’s more he goes about pretending to be what he’s not, sir - and deceiving me proper-like...’
‘Exactly what do you mean by that, Goon?’ asked the Inspector mildly. ‘Going about pretending to be what he’s not?’
‘Well, sir, he’s a whole lot of red-headed boys, sir,’ said Mr. Goon, to the great mystification of the Inspector and Mrs. Hilton. ‘Took me in proper, he did. First he was a red-headed telegraph-boy, sir - then he was a butcher-boy - and a messenger-boy, sir - tearing round on his bike, a public danger, sir, and a nuisance. But as soon as I found the red wig, sir...’
‘Who told you where it was?’ asked Fatty.
‘Mrs. Moon showed me,’ said Mr. Goon. ‘Yes, and she told me, too, all the things you’ve been saying about me, Master Frederick - you and the others - and how she overheard you planning to write that there cheeky letter to me!’