Mystery of the Disappearing Cat by Enid Blyton

we’d try to hide Luke?” he said. “As if we could hide him without you knowing, Mr. Goon! Why a clever policeman like you knows everything!”
    “Ah,” said Mr. Goon. “I know a lot more than you think.”
    That apparently was the end of the talk. Mr. Goon shut his notebook with a snap and went on his way. Fatty went down the lane, thinking hard.
    “Old Tupping must have popped his head over the wall, and either spotted Luke or thought he did,” thought Fatty. “Blow! We don’t want to get into trouble. But what are we to do with poor old Luke? Perhaps we had better give him some money and get him away.”
    The others listened to what Fatty told them. Bets was upset. “Don’t send Luke away,” she said. “We might solve the mystery any time, and then he could go back to Lady Candling’s.”
    “We shan’t solve this mystery,” said Fatty gloomily. “We aren’t so clever as we thought we were. I bet even Inspector Jenks wouldn’t be able to solve the mystery of Dark Queen.”
    “Oooh!” said Daisy at once, remembering how nice and friendly the Inspector had been in the Easter holidays when they had solved another mystery. “Inspector Jenks! I’d forgotten about him. Can’t we get into touch with him and tell him about poor old Luke? I’m sure he wouldn’t want to put him into prison or anything. He’d keep our secret all right”
    “Do you think he would?” said Larry. “Well, I’m blessed if I can see any way out of this. If old Clear-Orf starts searching Pip’s garden he’ll find Luke, and then maybe it will be worse for him, and bad for us. Let’s tell the Inspector. He always said he would help us and be a friend to us if he could.”
    “I’ll telephone,” said Fatty. The others looked at him respectfully. They thought it was rather marvellous of Fatty to offer to telephone to what Bets called “A very, very high-up policeman.”
    Fatty kept his word. He went back home, waited until no one was about to hear him, and then put a call through to the police-station in the nearest big town, where the Inspector lived.
    Very luckily for him, Inspector Jenks happened to be there. He came to the telephone and spoke pleasantly to Fatty.
    “Ah, Master Frederick Trotteville? I hope you are well. Yes, yes; I well remember the most interesting time we had together in the Easter holidays, when you so kindly solved the mystery of the burnt cottage — very clever piece of work, if I may say so. And have you solved any other mysteries since?”
    “Well, sir, there is a mystery here we can’t solve,” said Fatty, relieved to find the Inspector so very friendly. “We simply can’t. I don’t know if you’ve heard of it. A very valuable cat disappeared.”
    The Inspector appeared to think hard for a minute. Then his voice came again over the phone.
    “Yes; the report came in to me. I remember it. I believe our friend Mr. Goon is in charge of that particular puzzle.”
    “Well, he isn’t exactly a friend of ours,” said Fatty honestly. “But the person who is supposed to have done the crime is a friend of ours. And that’s what I’m really ringing up about. We’re in a bit of a muddle about him. I was just wondering if by any chance you could give us a little advice.”
    “Very nice of you to ask me,” said the Inspector. “It so happens I am coming through your village tomorrow. I suppose you couldn’t invite me to tea — say a picnic tea by the river?”
    “Oh, yes,” said Fatty joyfully. “That would be simply fine. We could tell you everything then.”
    “Then that’s settled,” said the Inspector. “I’ll be along your lane about four o’clock. It will be most pleasant for us all to meet again. I hope you agree with me.”
    “Oh, I do,” said Fatty. “Good-bye, sir, and thank you very much.”
    Fatty put down the receiver and sped down the lane to Pip’s house, full of excitement He ran up the drive and found the others in the garden.
    “Well,” said Fatty,