Mystery #04 — The Mystery of the Spiteful Letters

‘And we sent him some carbolic soap and found his helmet for him,’ remembered Daisy. ‘And he wasn’t a bit grateful, and never even thanked us. And Pip’s mother said it was rather an insult to send him soap and was cross with us.’

‘I’d like another mystery to solve,’ said Pip. ‘We’ll all keep our ears and eyes open. The hols have begun well, with you in your new disguise, Fatty - taking old Goon in as well as us!’

‘I must go,’ said Fatty, getting up. ‘I’ve got to slip back and change out of this telegraph-boy’s suit. I’ll just put on my wig and eyebrows again in case I meet Clear-Orf. Well - so long!’

 

OH, FOR A MYSTERY!

 

A whole week went by. The weather was rather dull and rainy, and the children got tired of it. It wasn’t much fun going for walks and getting soaked. On the other hand they couldn’t stay indoors all day.

The five of them and Buster met at Pip’s each day, because Pip had a fine big playroom. They made rather a noise sometimes, and then Mrs. Hilton would come in, looking cross.

‘There’s no need to behave as if you were a hurricane and an earthquake rolled into one!’ she said, one day. Then she looked in surprise at Pip. ‘Pip, what on earth are you doing?’

‘Nothing, Mother,’ said Pip, unwinding himself hurriedly from some weird purple garment. ‘Just being a Roman emperor, that’s all, and telling my slaves what I think of them.’

‘Where did you get that purple thing,’ asked his mother. ‘Oh, Pip - surely you haven’t taken Mrs. Moon’s bed-spread to act about in?’

‘Well, she’s out,’ said Pip. ‘I didn’t tlunk it would matter, Mother.’

Mrs. Moon was the cook-housekeeper, and had been with the Hiltons only a few months. The last cook was in hospital ill. Mrs. Moon was a really wonderful cook, but she had a very bad temper. Mrs. Hilton was tired of hearing her grumble about the children.

‘You just put that bed-spread back at once!’ she said. ‘Mrs. Moon will be most annoyed if she thinks you’ve been into her bedroom and taken her bed-covering. That was wrong of you, Pip. And will you all please remember to wipe your feet when you come in at the garden-door this wet weather? Mrs. Moon says she is always washing your muddy foot-marks away.’

‘She’s a spiteful old tell-tale,’ said Pip sulkily.

‘I won’t have you talking like that, Pip,’ said Mrs. Hilton. ‘She’s a very good cook and does her work extremely well. It’s no wonder she complains when you make her so much extra cleaning - and, by the way, she says things sometimes disappear from the larder and she feels sure it’s you children taking them. I hope that’s not so.’

Pip looked uncomfortable. ‘Well, Mother,’ he began, ‘it’s only that we’re most awfully hungry sometimes, and you see...’

‘No, I don’t see at all,’ said Mrs. Hilton. ‘Mrs. Moon is in charge of the larder, and you are not to take things without either my permission or hers. Now take back that bed-spread, for goodness sake, and spread it out neatly. Daisy, go with Pip and see that he puts it back properly.’

Daisy went off meekly with Pip. Mrs. Hilton could be very strict, and all five children were in awe of her, and of Mr. Hilton too. They would not stand any nonsense at all, either from their own children or from other people’s! Yet they all liked Mrs. Hilton very much, and Pip and Bets thought the world of her.

Daisy and Pip returned to the playroom. Mrs. Hilton had gone. Pip looked at the others and grinned.

‘We put it back,’ he said. ‘We pulled it this way and that, we patted it down, we draped it just right, we...’

‘Oh, shut up!’ said Larry. ‘I don’t like Mrs. Moon. She may be a good cook - and must say she makes marvellous cakes - but she’s a tell-tale.’

‘I bet poor old Gladys is scared of her,’ said Daisy. Gladys was the housemaid, a timid, quiet little thing, ready with shy smiles, and very willing to do anything for the children.

‘I like Mrs. Cockles the best,’ said Bets. ‘She’s got a lovely name, I think. She’s the char-woman. She comes to help Mrs. Moon and Gladys twice a week. She tells me all kinds of things.’

‘Good old Cockles!’ said Pip. ‘She always hands us out some of Mrs. Moon’s jam-tarts on baking day, if we slip down to the kitchen.’

Larry yawned and looked out of the window. ‘This disgusting weather! ’ he said. ‘Raining again! It’s jolly boring. I wish to goodness we’d got something to do - a mystery to solve, for instance.’

‘There doesn’t seem to be a single thing,’ said Daisy. ‘No robberies - not even a bicycle stolen, in the village. Nothing.’

‘I bet old Clear-Orf will be pleased if we don’t get a mystery this time,’ said Fatty.

‘Has he seen you yet?’ asked Bets. Fatty shook his head.

‘No. I expect he still thinks I’m away at Tippylooloo,’ he said, with a grin. ‘He’ll be surprised when I turn up.’

‘Let’s go out, even if it is raining,’ said Pip. ‘Let’s go and snoop about. Don’t you remember how last hols I snooped round an empty house and found that secret room at the top of it? Well, let’s go and snoop again. We might hit on something!’