They’d dealt
with mysterious events before, but none so close to home. This had happened not
just in the village, but in their clubhouse.
‘We know it was locked,’ said Daniel.
‘That’s
the strange thing,’ piped up Diana. ‘The door was locked with the key still under
the flowerpot.’
‘So,’
Barney chipped in, ‘it sounds like an inside job.’
‘Of
course it was inside,’ said Diana. ‘It was in
our garden shed!’ She ignored the older ones’ laughter.
At ten-years-old,
the twins were the youngest. Clara, whose father owned the butcher’s, was the
oldest at twelve. In between was Barney, Clara’s cousin, who stayed during the
holidays, which is when their adventures occurred. And, of course, there was Rusty,
the Bassett hound, who, in human reckoning, was forty-two but, in dog years,
was a sprightly six. Together, they were The Five Fixers.
It
was a bit crowded in Clara’s treehouse, but it was private. No grown-ups around.
The Fixers had been forbidden entry to their clubhouse until the police had inspected
it, although they’d already been in there that morning to get their bikes, which
is when they discovered they’d gone.
‘Brand
new they were, too,’ said Diana. ‘Birthday presents from Mummy and Daddy.’
‘And
that was all they took?’ enquired Clara. ‘Definitely sounds an inside- … I mean, a job
done by someone who knew where the key was.’
‘It’s
strange,’ put in Daniel, ‘that Uncle Leo was so upset.’
‘He
was, wasn’t he?’ reflected Diana, ‘And yet he didn’t want Daddy to contact the
police.’
‘Even
though Chief Superintendent Craven is a friend and neighbour,’ said Clara.
‘So,
what’s Uncle Daniel’s job?’ asked Barney.
‘Not
sure,’ said Diana. ‘He travels a lot.’
‘I think I heard Daddy say,’ interjected
Daniel, ‘he works for MFI.’
#
Uncle Leo
was in the garden, smoking. He’d had an exhausting morning. Last night was bad
enough, socialising with his sister and their socially clambering friends. His
boredom threshold had been severely tested, so he’d drunk far more than he’d
intended. Then he’d been woken this morning by the twins shouting.
Going
in search of caffeine, he’d found Judy, the ‘help’, preparing breakfast. She’d
insisted he sit down while she brewed some coffee. He was impressed. He usually
got instant.
‘You’re a wonder, Judy. They don’t deserve
you,’ he said.
It was a heartfelt remark. She cooked,
cleaned, washed, and did maintenance work, yet remained largely invisible. She’d
make a good intelligence officer, though Leo.
‘Why
are the twins shouting?’ he’d asked.
‘It’s
their bikes,’ Judy had replied. ‘They say they’ve been stolen. I think they’ve
just left them somewhere. Wouldn’t be the first time!’ While she talked, Judy had
deftly transferred glistening stacks of bacon, sausage, mushrooms and tomatoes to
some chafing dishes. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr Peters, I must get on.’
Leo had
taken the hint and wandered outside with his coffee. He’d repeatedly asked Judy
to call him ‘Leo’, but she always reverted to ‘Mr Peters’. And who was he to
disturb Little Baddercombe’s medieval sense of social order?
In
the garden he encountered the twins sitting in one of the apple trees. Rusty
was running around below, looking for a way up.
The twins clambered down to tell Leo about
their missing bikes. They insisted he saw the scene of the crime. Once inside,
Leo detected an all-too-familiar odour.
‘They
were right here, Uncle Leo,’ Diana exclaimed.
‘Mysterious,’
Leo replied, lighting another cigarette to conceal the pong.
‘And
we’re meant to be having our Fixers meeting in here,’ added Diana.
As discreetly as he could, Leo ushered them
out of the cramped space, expressing a keen interest in the Fixers’ adventures.
Daniel
scampered ahead, leaping into Leo’s open-top MG. ‘Can we have a ride, Uncle
Leo?’ he begged, making revving noises as he gripped the steering wheel.
‘Later,’ said Leo.
‘Awww!’
complained Daniel, inquisitively fingering the controls.
Once the twins were called for breakfast, Leo
went back to the shed and uncovered the crystal meth. It was in a plastic bag that
had got punctured, whether by accident or design, Leo didn’t know. It stank of
cat pee. He swept up the spillage, leaving the door ajar, and hid the bag under
his passenger seat.
Back
at breakfast, the talk focused on the missing bikes. Their father agreed to
contact their neighbour, Chief Superintendent Craven. Then the family dispersed:
the children to meet their friends; Leo’s brother-in-law to his chambers; and Leo’s
sister, Mandy, to a fund-raising meeting.
Leo agreed to liaise with the police, despite
Mandy’s assurance that Judy would be there. Leo made himself comfortable in the
garden, reminding himself that this was meant to be a holiday.
Some twenty-minutes later, he heard voices:
‘Those bleedin’ kids give us more work than any crook. But Craven’ll have none
of it.’
‘Middle-class cronyism,’ said the other,
before Leo appeared. They were about to apologise when they saw his smile. He escorted
them to the ‘crime scene’, nervously wafting his cigarette, just in case.
Once Leo established his credentials — name-dropping
MI5 — PCs Matthews and Summers were only too happy to let him make some enquiries.
They provided him with the names and addresses of known, local bad lads,
including, on Leo’s request, drug dealers.
Having
enjoyed a chat and a coffee, the PCs were keen to depart before the children
returned. They promised to liaise later.
#
Leo visited
the addresses they’d provided, quite enjoying his holiday now. Better than hobnobbing
with his sister’s G & T set!
At his fourth call, Leo struck lucky. When
one of the Langley brothers opened the door of their caravan at a nearby park, Leo
dropped the bag of meth into a receptive pair of hands. ‘Thought I’d return
this.’
‘How
the bleedin’-?’ began Mick, the bigger brother.
‘Shut it, kid!’ Jim had yelled.
Leo pushed
his way in, waving his Drug Squad card (one of many) before their eyes. Jim was
on the far side of the van, tinkering with some children’s bikes.
‘Now
lads,’ Leo had said. ‘We can make this simple or difficult. I’ll swap you this stash,’ he pointed to the bag, ‘for
those bikes.’
‘You
mean, you ain’t gonna shop us?’ Mick had queried.
‘It’s
your lucky day.’
‘And
where does Craven come into this?’ asked Jim.
‘Craven
knows nothing about it,’ Leo replied.
‘You’re
not with Craven?’ Jim asked.
‘I’m
on holiday, visiting my nephew and niece — Members of the Five Fixers Gang
— whose bikes you’ve nicked.’
‘Five
Flamin’ Fixers!’ Mick exploded. ‘We did time thanks to those little pricks!’
‘Shut
it!’ hissed his brother.
‘So,’ began Leo, ‘is that why you nicked
their bikes and planted this stash in their shed?’
‘Their
shed?’ Jim had looked perplexed. ‘You mean Craven’s shed.’
Leo
laughed. ‘Craven lives next door.’
Jim started
slapping his brother. ‘Dickhead!’
Leo
was still perplexed. ‘But why plant dope in Craven’s shed? Suicidal, isn’t it?’
After
a lengthy chat, it emerged that Craven had been taking backhanders for dealer
protection. However, he’d been getting greedy, so the syndicate threatened to shop
him. The dope was a warning. The Langley brothers had been the delivery boys. The
bikes were simply a surprise perk they couldn’t resist.
Leo,
though, suggested a more fruitful way of dealing with Craven, which quite
appealed.
As for the bikes, despite the Langleys
wanting to trash them, it was agreed they’d deposit them at the Old Quarry. Leo
followed the brothers, to make sure he knew where the bikes were.
‘One
more thing,’ Leo asked. ‘How did you know where the shed key was?’
‘Lucky
guess,’ Jim said.
#
Back at his
brother-in-law’s, Leo found his nephew, niece, and the dog awaiting him. ‘You
promised us a ride, Uncle Leo.’
Leo
forced a smile and took them for a drive.
‘Look
at Rusty,’ Daniel shouted, watching the wind fill Rusty’s jowls and levitate
his ears, ‘he’s being swept by the wind, Uncle.’
‘Windswept!’
corrected Diana.
Having
reached a long stretch of country road, Leo thought he’d impress them by putting
his foot down.
‘Oooh!’
shrieked Diana, ‘You’ve broken the speed limit!’
‘Chief Superintendent Craven would arrest
you!’ added Daniel.
‘Little
pricks!’ The Langleys’ words echoed in Leo’s head.
When
some clouds started to gather, Leo stopped to put up the hood. But that seemed
to make Rusty slobber and snuffle. He became increasingly agitated.
‘Car sick?’ Leo asked.
‘Not
usually,’ said the children, but Leo drove at a more sedate pace with the window
flaps wide.
#
When
they got back, the twins went to find the other Fixers. They were in Clara’s
treehouse. The twins went up, leaving Rusty down below, given his peculiar behaviour.
‘Anything to report?’ Barney asked.
‘Yes,’ said Daniel. ‘Uncle Leo was out in
his car early this morning. It came back with muddy tyres.’ Daniel passed
across a piece of paper with ‘18,308’ written on it. ‘This is his milometer
reading before our ride.’
‘That’s
very good,’ said Barney, ‘but not much use unless we know what the figure was before he went out this morning.’
‘But
we do,’ beamed Daniel. ‘I sat in his car before breakfast. It then said 18,300
miles exactly.’
‘Brilliant!’
said Clara. ‘So, he’d driven eight miles, which means that it was somewhere no more
than four miles away.’ She circled a four-mile radius with her compasses on a tattered
OS map.
‘The
mud on his tyres was an orangey colour,’ added Daniel.
Clara
immediately poked a finger within the pencilled circle. ‘The Old Quarry,’ she
announced.
‘Great
work, twins,’ said Barney.
Their
conversation was halted by Rusty’s barking. ‘I’d forgotten about him!’ said
Diana.
The dog
was running around the base of the tree, shaking his head, and sneezing.
‘I
think he needs another drink,’ said Diana. They fetched him a fresh bowl of
water, his third since the car ride.
After
drinking, he looked up at the twins, seeming to say, ‘No more sports cars,
thank you!’
#
The Fixers
didn’t reconvene until the following day, having regained possession of the
garden shed. As customary, they started their meeting with their favourite
refreshments — ginger beer and fruitcake — an idea borrowed from their fictional
counterparts.
Then
Diana noticed a piece of paper wedged between two door panels. She pulled it
free and read it: ‘Yor biks are in a shed at the Old Quarry.’
‘The place where Uncle Leo’s car was, with the
mud!’ exclaimed Diana.
‘Although,’
said Clara, ‘his tyres weren’t muddy first thing, were they?’ She looked at
Daniel, but he couldn’t remember. ‘So, Uncle Leo couldn’t have taken the bikes.’
‘They
wouldn’t fit in that car, anyway,’ added Diana.
‘Perhaps
he had an accomplice,’ suggested Daniel.
‘Someone who can’t spell very well,’ said Clara.
‘Or
someone who wants us to think that,’ said Barney. ‘I mean, ‘yor’ and ‘biks’
are misspelled, but ‘Quarry’ – a more difficult word – is correct.’
‘Let’s go to the Quarry!’ said Diana, a gleam
in her eye.
‘Yes,’
said Barney. ‘Another adventure for the Five Fixers!’
They
were interrupted by Chief Superintendent Craven knocking at the shed door. He looked
unusually serious. They told him about their stolen bikes but were reluctant to
share all their intelligence at this stage. However, they had no compunction about
pointing the finger at Uncle Leo.
‘He
made Rusty car-sick,’ said Diana.
‘He
doesn’t like dogs at all,’ said Daniel.
‘And
he broke the speed limit in his car,’ said Diana.
‘Very
interesting,’ responded Craven. ‘What does your uncle do, anyway?’
‘He
works for MFI,’ the twins declared.
#
Laden with
one of Judy’s picnics, the Fixers set off for the quarry, the two older ones
wheeling their bikes.
To
their delight, the bikes were there, as the message had said. Before the twins
could touch their machines, however, Barney pulled out his detection kit and
ordered everyone to stand clear. He inspected each cycle with his magnifying
glass, looking in vain for prints.
‘They’re
clean,’ he announced.
‘Apart
from this mud,’ Daniel pointed out.
Outside,
they followed the snaking tyre treads, along with three sets of footprints,
which led to some larger tyre tracks, from two different vehicles.
Once
again, Barney deployed his magnifying glass. ‘I think this tread pattern is
from Uncle Leo’s MG.’
‘It doesn’t
make sense,’ said Clara. ‘Why move bikes from one shed to another?’
‘And
send the owners a note,’ added Diana.
They
discussed this over their picnic, then enjoyed a leisurely ride home. Rusty appreciated
taking turns in the baskets of the girls’ cycles.
At home,
there was no sign of Leo’s MG. They’d wanted to examine its tyre treads. They also
wanted to monitor his reaction when he saw their bikes. But he didn’t reappear
all day.
Clara,
deciding that ‘The Strange Case of the Missing Bikes’ was almost solved, spent
the evening writing up their adventure. It was their eighth, she noted, gazing at
the neat row of exercise books on her bookshelf.
#
Leo was
also working hard at resolving things, only returning to his sister’s early the
following morning. As he parked his car, he was relishing the thought of Judy’s
cooked breakfast, with lashings of black coffee. He greeted her before going
upstairs to freshen up.
What
he didn’t know was that the Fixers had also been busy. In his absence, the
twins had searched his room and discovered, in his bin, some sheets of paper
from the pad on which he’d made the note about the missing bikes, one sheet of which
bore the imprint of that anonymous note.
Before
breakfast, the twins had run round to let Clara and Barney know. Barney had
used a special powder to make the hidden message stand out. Although it was
legible without this, they were impressed at his forensic skills — apart from Rusty,
that is, who started sneezing again. He wasn’t enjoying this adventure.
Rusty and the twins then ran home for
breakfast, having assured Clara that they’d inform Chief Inspector Craven about
their Uncle’s guilt.
#
‘Where’s
your uncle?’ asked Barney when they met after breakfast.
‘Upstairs,’
the twins answered.
‘Did
you let Chief Superintendent Craven know?’ asked Clara.
‘He wasn’t
at home,’ said Diana.
‘Well,
we mustn’t let your uncle escape,’ Barney emphasised.
‘He won’t,’
Daniel piped up. ‘We let his tyres down.’
‘The ones with the same tread pattern!’
added Diana.
The twins led the others to Leo’s car, which
was standing forlornly in the gravel.
‘Well
done twins!’ said Barney.
As
if keen to contribute, Rusty cocked a leg against one of the MG’s wheels. They
giggled.
‘And
Rusty!’ added Clara.
Suddenly,
they spotted Uncle Leo. He was peering into the shed. Barney launched himself at
the man, shouldering Leo inside and slamming the door. Fortunately, the key was
still in the lock. Barney secured it.
‘We’d
better phone the police,’ said Clara. ‘Perhaps Chief Superintendent Craven is
at the station.’
They
went into the kitchen, surprised to see their mother there.
‘Having
a busy morning?’ she asked. ‘Have you seen Uncle Leo, by the way? I heard his
car.’
‘Er…’
Barney,
alert to Leo’s banging, turned up the radio. ‘Sorry,’ he apologised to the
twins’ mother. ‘Just wanted to hear the, er, music.’
Before anything else was said, another car
arrived, quickly followed by a rap at the door. Chief Superintendent Craven,
thought the children.
They
ran to greet him, but two other men stood there. One was PC Matthews, who’d called
about the stolen bikes. The other was a plain clothes man. ‘Inspector Hanson,’
as he introduced himself, shaking hands with each of them, even accepting Rusty’s
paw.
‘Is Mr Leo Peters in?’
‘He’s somewhere around…,’ began the twin’s
mother, only to have the twins interrupt.
‘He’s locked in the shed,’ they beamed.
‘What?’
She turned to Barney. ‘Will you turn that radio down?’
But Judy, returning, pre-empted him. The banging
became more audible.
‘He’s
ready for handcuffing!’ announced the twins.
The
inspector followed the Fixers to the shed, where Barney unlocked the door and stood
to one side, though remaining vigilant. They were all hoping Uncle Leo would attempt
to make a getaway in his car. However, the wind was taken out of their sails.
‘Good morning, gents,’ said Leo. ‘I’d
invite you in, but it’s a bit cramped!’
‘What’s
all this about?’ asked Hanson, as they gathered in the back garden, Judy having
supplied some home-made lemonade.
The
story emerged, albeit slightly edited. The children listened in surprise as Uncle
Leo explained how he’d traced the bike thieves and made them write a confession.
The Fixers were dumbfounded. Not what they’d
expected. Where was Chief Superintendent Craven, they wanted to know.
‘Busy,’ said the Inspector, ‘helping us follow
some leads.’
#
The
children were dispirited the rest of the day. Clara, the Fixers’ chronicler, was
particularly downhearted, especially when she came to write the conclusion to their
adventure. For she’d already detailed Uncle Leo’s suspicious character: his dislike
of dogs, upsetting Rusty, his disregard for speed limits, his heavy smoking,
his lack of a wife, etc.
And what they’d subsequently learned only
seemed to confirm the Fixers’ suspicions: that tell-tale note, the quarry mud on
his tyres, staying out all night before breaking into their clubhouse.
He just had to be guilty, Clara
decided, ending her story in the traditional manner, with Chief Super Craven praising
The Fixers (‘And that includes you, Rusty!’).
#
Leo,
back in the city, was also busy writing, and also having difficulties. It was a
brief report about his ‘unofficial’ involvement in a drug-smuggling racket in Little
Baddercombe and surrounding villages. Central to it were details of Craven’s
backhanders — which, this time, had involved some marked notes.
Leo was also aware that his report would
probably never see the light of day, let alone The Little Baddercombe
Courier. If anyone was at risk, he feared it might be the Langley brothers.
Leo sighed. “Give me the honest and open world
of national espionage any day!’ he muttered.
About the author
Dr David Rudd is an emeritus professor who, after 40 years, turned from academic prose to creative writing and found fulfilment. Recent stories have appeared in 'Aphelion', 'Bandit Fiction', 'The Blotter', 'Corner Bar Magazine', 'Dribble Drabble Review', 'Jerry Jazz Musician', and 'Literally Stories'.
Did you enjoy the story? Would you like to shout us a coffee? Half of what you pay goes to the writers and half towards supporting the project (web site maintenance, preparing the next Best of book etc.)