‘Really?’ said Fatty, his eyes gleaming curiously. ‘Perhaps she told you also, who is the writer of those other anonymous letters?’
‘Well, no, she didn’t,’ admitted Mr. Goon. ‘Unless it was some one she’s Got Her Eye On. But she wasn’t mentioning any names just yet.’
Frederick, this is all very disturbing,’ said Mrs. Hilton. ‘I cannot imagine what you have been doing! And surely, surely you did not write that letter to Mr. Goon!’
‘No, Mrs. Hilton, of course I didn’t,’ said Fatty. ‘As for the disguises - well, I mean to be a famous detective when I grow up - and I’m just practising, that’s all. I have been looking into the mystery of the anonymous letter-writing - and by great good luck I’ve had a whole lot of clues thrust upon me. As a matter of fact we were going to tell you the whole thing as soon as we got back.’
‘Ho yes!’ said Mr. Goon disbelievingly.
‘That will do, Goon,’ said the Inspector. ‘What are these clues, Frederick, that you’ve had thrust upon you?’
Fatty went into the hall and came back with the little sack. He placed it on the table. Mr. Goon stared at it and his eyes bulged.
‘Those clues!’ he said, scornfully. ‘Those clues you planted for me to find! Ho! Copybooks and alphabet books! White rats and match-boxes that jump! Clothing pegs and dolls’ hats!’
The Inspector looked most astonished at this long list of things. Fatty looked a little uncomfortable. ‘Just my little joke,’ he murmured.
‘Well, your little jokes have landed you into Serious Trouble,’ said Mr. Goon. ‘Just like I said they would. It was lucky the Inspector was in Peterswood today. Soon as I told him about everything, along he came.’