Mystery #04 — The Mystery of the Spiteful Letters

Fatty thought he would wear his butcher-boy disguise the next morning, in case he had to go and do a bit more snooping or interviewing. It was a simple disguise, and very effective. He put on his red wig, with no cap. He adjusted the black eyebrows and made his face red. Then, with his striped apron tied round his middle, he set off to Pip’s.

Mrs. Hilton saw him as he flashed by the window. ‘Ah, the butcher-boy,’ she thought. ‘Now Mrs. Moon won’t have to go and fetch the meat again.’

The others greeted Fatty with delight. They were always thrilled when he disguised himself. He pulled off his wig, eyebrows, and apron when he got up into the playroom in case Mrs. Hilton should come in and see him.

He had no sooner done this than a great commotion began downstairs. The children listened, quite startled. They heard wails and groans, and somebody speaking sharply, then more wails.

They went to the head of the stairs and listened. ‘It’s Mrs. Moon - and Mother,’ said Pip. ‘Whatever is happening? Mrs. Moon is crying and howling like anything and Mother is trying to make her stop. Gracious, what can be the matter?’

‘Perhaps Mother’s discovered that Mrs. Moon is the bad letter-writer!’ suggested Bets, looking rather scared.

‘I’ll go down and see what’s up,’ said Fatty, rising to the occasion as usual. He went downstairs quietly. He heard Mrs. Hilton’s stern voice.

‘Now Mrs. Moon, you are not to go on like this. I won’t have it! Pull yourself together at once!’

‘Oh Mam, to think I’d get one of those nasty letters!’ wailed Mrs. Moon’s voice. ‘And such a spiteful one too! Look here what it says.’

‘I don’t want to see, Mrs. Moon. Pay no attention to it,’ said Mrs. Hilton. ‘You know quite well it is only something written out of somebody’s spiteful imagination. Let Mr. Goon see it, and then forget all about it.’

‘That Mr. Goon!’ wailed Mrs. Moon. ‘Didn’t he come here yesterday and tell me I might be one of them he suspects could have written the letters - me, a law-abiding, peaceful woman that never did no one no harm. Ooooooo-o-oh!’

‘Pull yourself together at once,’ said Mrs. Hilton sharply. ‘You’re getting hysterical and I won’t have it! When did the letter come?’

‘Just this minute as ever was!’ wailed Mrs. Moon. ‘Somebody pushed it in at the kitchen door, and I picked it up and opened it - and there was that nasty spiteful message - oh, to think somebody could write to me like that, me that hasn’t an enemy in the world.’

‘Somebody pushed it in just now?’ said Mrs. Hilton thoughtfully. ‘Well now - I saw the butcher-boy coming by my window a minute ago.’

‘He never came to my back door!’ declared Mrs. Moon. ‘Never left any meat or nothing.’

‘Strange,’ said Mrs. Hilton. ‘Could it possibly have been that boy who delivered the note - for somebody else? Well, we can easily make inquiries at the butcher’s.’

Fatty wished heartily that he hadn’t put on his butcher-boy disguise. He must hide it well away when he went upstairs.

‘I’ll go and telephone to Mr. Goon now,’ said Mrs. Hilton. ‘Make yourself a cup of tea, Mrs. Moon, and try and be sensible.’

Fatty shot upstairs as Mrs. Hilton came out into the hall to telephone. The others clutched him.

‘What’s the row about?’ they asked. ‘Quick, tell us!’

‘What do you think!’ said Fatty. ‘Mrs. Moon’s had one of those letters - delivered by hand a few minutes ago. We might any of us have seen who it was that left it here - but we didn’t. But your mother spotted me in my butcher-boy disguise, Pip, and that’s a pity, because she thinks I’m the one that delivered the letter!’

‘Mrs. Moon’s had a letter!’ said Larry, and gave a low whistle. ‘Well, that rules her out then. That leaves only Nosey and Miss Tittle.’

‘Let’s watch for Mr. Goon,’ said Bets. So they watched. He came cycling up the drive and dismounted by the front door. Mrs. Hilton let him in. The children stood at the top of the stairs, but Mrs. Hilton, worried and puzzled, did not even see them.

‘I sent for you to say that Mrs. Moon has now had one of those unpleasant letters,’ said Mrs. Hilton. ‘She is naturally very upset.’

‘Well, Madam, I may tell you that I’ve had one too, this morning!’ said Mr. Goon. ‘It’s getting beyond a joke, this is. I found mine in the letter-box this morning. Course, it may have been delivered in the dark of night, probably was. Making fun of the Law like that. Things have come to a pretty pass if the Law can be treated like that!’

‘It’s very worrying,’ said Mrs. Hilton. ‘I can’t imagine anyone wanting to send you that kind of letter, Mr. Goon.’

‘Ah, no doubt the wrong-doer knows I’m on their track,’ said Mr. Goon. ‘Thinks to put me off, no doubt! Tells me I’m a meddler and a muddler! Ah, wait till I get me hands on them!’

‘Well - come and see Mrs. Moon,’ said Mrs. Hilton. ‘Please handle her carefully, Mr. Goon. She’s almost hysterical.’