For a moment Julian lay dazed on the green deep-shag pile carpet trying to gather his thoughts, as well as the contents of his pockets that were scattered in front of him. The loud voices that had been raised in alarm sounded a staccato cacophony in his ears as he pushed himself up onto one elbow and looked around. The people in the room were all standing and staring at him, but in few seconds two of the burly men had muscled their way through the chairs and grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him roughly to his feet. "Ow, leggo you brutes!" cried Julian, as the fingers of each hand gripped pincer-like into his collar bone, but the men took no notice, and half-carried, half-dragged him towards the bald-headed man at the front of the room who was standing in front of the blackboard. Their eyes met, and for a few brief seconds there was a flash of recognition behind the steel-rimmed spectacles before he recovered his composure. "Now then, laddo," he said, "what's the meaning of this? Look at the damage you've caused! What have you got to say for yourself?" Julian had also recognised the man immediately, and knew just exactly how to handle him. Clearly it was in his best interests for the moment to play along and pretend that neither knew the other, and so his reply was suitably vague. "I'm most terribly sorry. I was just having a look at the old window there. For my hols homework I've got to write about old glass, and when I saw those diamond-shaped panes speckled with air bubbles I just had to have a closer look, but the ladder gave way, and I fell through." There was general murmuring amongst the other people there at this somewhat contrived explanation, but the spectacled-man jumped in quickly to stamp it with his own authority. "I see," he said, "that's perfectly understandable. Now we'd better make sure you're unharmed. Perhaps you'd like to get yourself cleaned up? There's a shower room upstairs where you can get all the glass fragments out of your hair. Bert and Jack will show you the way," and with that the two hefty minders jostled Julian out of the room and into the grand hallway where a wide staircase ascended to the first floor landing. From here a second, narrower stairway led to the next floor where the bedrooms were situated, and pushing him into one of them, the larger of the two men indicated the bathroom door to one side and shoved him towards it. Then, without a word they turned, slammed the door behind them, and Julian heard the sound of the key turning in the lock. Deciding to make the best of it, he headed for the shower.

Outside in the garden Anne had wet herself with frustration whilst Timmy was running in circles around George's legs and very nearly tripping her up. Dick meanwhile took it all in his stride. "It's no good standing round here. We can't help Julian, and those people in there will be out here in a minute. We've got to hide. Come on!" and with that he led the others away into the undergrowth, Anne walking somewhat bow-legged as she attempted to minimise the sensation she'd not felt since infancy. The children had only just made it into the deep rhododendron bushes when they heard voices, and peering out from behind the broad green leaves, they saw several people looking at the remains of the ladder on the ground and staring up at the shattered window. Listening carefully, Dick could tried to make out what they were saying. He caught almost every other word, but still had difficulty making sense of it. "Look ... this .... mess! ..... did ... little ..... think .... was ....? The .... will .... hundreds .... pounds ... put ..... What .... osser!" Dick then saw a bald-headed man wearing glasses stride out from the door and call to the others. "Come back inside! There's nothing that can be done at present. I'll get my men to board up the window so that it's weatherproof. We need to continue with our meeting. There's lots to plan." In response the group of people moved back inside the house and the old heavy front door closed with a dull thud. Dick looked at the two girls. Anne had now made herself more comfortable with the aid of a dock leaf and a tissue, whilst George was stroking Timmy's tummy, who lay back in the grass, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, a slightly-glazed expression in his eyes and a low growl coming from deep within his chest. For a moment Dick rather envied him, then pushing aside such thoughts and digging his hands firmly into the pockets of his shorts, he cleared his throat and the girls looked up. "Ju can take care of himself," he said, trying to sound confident. "He's a big boy now," he continued, trying to ignore George's snigger, "and we've got other things to investigate." "Such as?" said George, standing up and facing her cousin. "Such as why the bike belonging to your housemaid, Alice, is parked around the back of the Manor." said Dick, enjoying the look of surprise on George's face. "Anne and I found it just before Julian decided on a forced entry." "So unlike him," murmured Anne. "But what's Alice doing here?" asked George. "That's what we've got to find out," replied Dick. "How long has she worked at Kirrin Cottage?" "Only about a month," said George. "She answered an advert that Father placed in the window of the village shop. She had good references, though, come to think of it, I'm sure one of them was from Lord Hungwell who was the previous owner of Flushing Manor." "There's got to be a connection here somewhere," said Dick, "but I'm buggered if I can think of one at the moment!" Anne stood up. "Can I make a suggestion?" she asked, somewhat timidly, for she knew that ideas weren't her strong point. In fact, her low self-esteem meant that she rarely had any thought more exciting than devising a new pattern of cross-stitch for her embroidery homework If anyone was genetically suited to the role of a humble housewife, then it was Anne, and her brothers knew it. So did Aunt Fanny, but she always took great pains to ensure that Anne was as involved in all the ragamuffin antics of her siblings and cousin as possible, even to the extent of secretly giving her, this last Christmas, a pair of leather jodhpurs and a riding crop. Anne would have preferred a year's subscription to "Family Circle" but she had accepted the gift in the spirit of the giver, and Aunt Fanny had certainly been excited to receive the photo of Anne wearing the garment and brandishing the crop that Dick had taken on his old "box Brownie" on New Year's Eve.

"So what's your suggestion?" asked Dick, growing impatient with the narrative's digression into background detail. Anne turned red and coughed nervously. "Come on Anne," said George, "Spit it out!" Dick thought back to the last time he'd heard that phrase, and hurriedly pushed the memory away. "It's just that ... well, I wondered if .... er ...." "Oh for goodness sake, sis!" ejaculated Dick. "We haven't got all night, and this Chapter's got to finish soon!" Anne decided to grab the bull by the horns, which wasn't a particularly apt metaphor to use at this juncture. "I thought that if we went back to where Alice's bike is, we might try to see if the back door's open." "Spiffing!" said George. "I'm more than ready to try the back passage. What about you, Dick?" Dick nodded in agreement, and the three children crept stealthily round to the rear of the house, Timmy sniffing every inch of ground on the way, and snuffling with pleasure as he caught the scent of a particularly plumb rabbit.

The back door was partly-glazed with six small panes of frosted glass, so that no detail of the interior could be seen by the children as the gathered around it. Dick took hold of the knob and gave it a slow twist. He felt a surge of pleasure as the stiffness eased and the latch clicked back. As the door swung open he looked at the old brass lock. "It's been well oiled," he said. "Look, there are drops of oil still seeping out." The children peered into the back passage that was lit by a single naked light bulb suspended from the ceiling by a piece of old cloth-covered wire that should have been replaced years ago. A faint smell of cabbage wafted in the night air, and Anne stifled her gag reflex as she recalled the school canteen and the special offers made by Ethel, the one-eyed cook. It was funny how many of the fifth-formers took her up on the "Daily Special". Timmy pushed past George's legs and sniffed his way along the linoleum floor, and after a moment, the children followed. Half-way along a small set of stairs wound their way upwards, and nodding in agreement to each other, the party ascended, and found themselves on the first floor in a larger, carpeted passageway. All was silent, but as the children made their way down the hall they became aware of a strange moaning sound that seemed to come from above them. They stopped and tried to identify the noise. The discordant sounds rose and fell in an eerie rhythm, and the girls were listening in semi-fright when Dick suddenly broke into a soft chuckle. "It's alright, I know what it is!" he said. "Come on", and he turned and hurried back to the stairs, where another flight led them onto the second floor. The noise was much louder now, but without a pause, Dick followed the sound like a bloodhound and stopped outside a heavy oaken door. Without pausing he turned the handle and went in. The volume of noise almost physically hit the children in the face as they entered, and Timmy lay down against the wall, ears flattened against the side of his head, his big brown eyes wide with anxiety. Dick made straight for another door on the far side of the bedroom. "I thought so!" he cried, and turning the key in the lock he flung open the door. "Aaagh!" screamed Anne and George, as their eyes took in the sight that was revealed.