Alice-Miranda at Camp 10

by Jacqueline Harvey

  ‘You know Uncle Ed has come to sort out Granny’s art collection?’

  Millie nodded.

  ‘Well, this morning he took me downstairs to have a look and we discovered something very strange,’ the child began.

  ‘What was it?’ Millie asked.

  ‘One of the paintings I saw was stolen,’ Alice-Miranda whispered. ‘Uncle Ed said that it wasn’t the only one. Detective Freeman was with us, but I don’t think she saw anything.’

  ‘But shouldn’t you tell her?’ asked Millie.

  ‘That’s what I said, but Uncle Ed wants to go through the rest of the collection first,’ Alice-Miranda replied.

  ‘Your grandfather was rich. It’s not as if he would have needed to steal art.’ Millie chewed her pinkie nail as she thought it through.

  ‘That’s the thing. The painting I saw was stolen only a few years ago. It couldn’t have been Grandpa at all. He’s been dead for more than twenty years.’

  ‘Then who?’ Millie asked. ‘Could it be someone in the house?’

  ‘I don’t know. But I just saw the strangest thing.’ Alice-Miranda told Millie all about the two men and the van and what they had said about making a withdrawal. She was afraid they were planning to steal all of the paintings.

  Millie’s eyes widened. ‘You don’t think your uncle could believe that your parents are responsible, do you?’

  ‘I don’t know what he’s thinking but I need to get back to the house and find out what else he’s discovered as soon as possible. Mummy and Daddy are away until Saturday morning and then they’re coming to the fair. I just hope Uncle Ed gets to the bottom of things before then,’ Alice-Miranda said breathlessly.

  Alice-Miranda and Millie weren’t the only campers awake. Caprice had hopped up to go to the toilet. As the girl was about to return to bed, she thought she heard voices in the distance. When she had realised it was Millie and Alice-Miranda, she had sneaked over and crouched down behind a tree.

  Millie held Alice-Miranda’s hand. ‘I’m glad everything’s okay with us.’

  Alice-Miranda smiled. ‘Me too.’

  Caprice could feel her heart pounding. That little brat Millie had better not have said anything – or else.

  Friday dawned bright and clear. Ed Clifton jolted awake and rolled over to look at the clock beside the bed. It was just after seven. He’d only had a few hours’ sleep as his mind had been racing all night. He had replayed the discoveries he’d made downstairs, and kept wondering ‘how?’ and even more urgently ‘who?’.

  Of the sixty-eight paintings he’d examined and catalogued, five were stolen. He wasn’t even halfway through the collection, which made him wonder what other surprises were in store. Three of the missing works had disappeared more than thirty years ago but two had come from much more recent thefts. As far as Ed understood, only he and his brother knew the combination for the vault.

  Ed pushed back the covers, stretched and then headed into the bathroom. His breakfast tray was waiting for him when he came out of the shower. He found it slightly unnerving that someone had a key to his room and was happy to let themselves in. He hoped it was only the matron. It got him thinking about keys – Matron Bright had mentioned that she’d lost a set when Pelham Park first opened.

  Ed opened the door and almost bumped into Matron Bright.

  ‘Good morning, Mr Clifton,’ she sang.

  Ed nodded. ‘Good morning, matron. Thanks for breakfast.’

  ‘My pleasure. I suppose you’re off to the cellars now?’ the woman said.

  ‘Yes, I’ll be there all day. I hadn’t realised Mother had such an extensive collection. When Alice-Miranda’s group arrives today, would you bring her downstairs? She was very helpful yesterday and I could do with another pair of hands.’

  ‘Oh yes, of course, so long as it’s all right with Mr Plumpton. I don’t imagine he’ll mind.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Ed grinned tightly. ‘If you could just let her through the locked doors. I know she’ll find her way from there.’

  ‘Certainly, Mr Clifton.’ She took a large key out of her pocket and unlocked the door to Ed’s room. ‘I’ll just take your tray.’

  Ed almost flew downstairs. As he opened the vault door and looked about, his head began to spin and he thought he might lose his breakfast.

  ‘How on earth?’ he breathed. Before him was a painting he certainly hadn’t seen the day before. He recognised it immediately. How could he not? It had been stolen from The Met a couple of months ago. He knew all about it, because it was one of his own.

  Mr Plumpton yawned as he emerged from his tent. He looked as if he’d fought ten rounds with a tiger. His shirt buttons were mismatched and his trousers crumpled.

  The children were all up and engaged in various jobs. Several had gone to collect kindling for the fire and others were down by the creek washing their faces. The shovel had disappeared too.

  ‘Good morning, Mr Plumpton,’ Alice-Miranda greeted the teacher.

  ‘Good morning to you too, young lady. Did you sleep well?’

  ‘Not especially.’

  ‘Me neither,’ Mr Plumpton confided. ‘I’ll be glad to be in a bed again tonight. I really don’t think my old bones are cut out for camping.’

  ‘Mr Plumpton, you’re not that old,’ Alice-Miranda said with a grin. ‘Do you know what time we’re going to Pelham Park today?’

  ‘Hang on a tick.’ The teacher consulted the revised timetable that Miss Reedy had given him the day before. ‘It looks like you’re due over there at ten, then back to Bagley Hall early in the afternoon for an extended choir practice with Mr Lipp.’

  Mr Plumpton was very pleased that his entire group belonged to the Winchester-Fayle Singers. He was looking forward to a cup of tea and a nap while the children rehearsed.

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ Alice-Miranda replied.

  It didn’t take long for the children to eat breakfast and get the camp site packed up. Millie groaned when Beth told the children that the paddling groups were to stay the same as the day before. Her arms ached at the thought of it.

  ‘Isn’t it lovely to be together again?’ Caprice asked, smiling at her two companions.

  ‘Do you think you could help us paddle this time?’ Millie grumbled.

  ‘I paddled yesterday,’ Caprice bit, then turned and smiled at Figgy.

  He was more gaga over the girl than ever and leapt to her defence. ‘Millie, leave her alone. She was paddling every time I looked.’

  ‘You’re so blind, Figgy. She was sitting behind you and only paddling when you turned around.’ Millie shook her head and stomped over to load the canoe. She didn’t notice Caprice following her.

  ‘Have you forgotten our deal?’

  Millie whirled around to face her. ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘I’m going to win that medal,’ Caprice whispered, her eyes narrowed.

  ‘Won’t that feel good?’ Millie said. ‘Knowing that you’ve made your competition look bad. You make me sick!’

  ‘Aren’t we brave all of a sudden?’ Caprice hissed. ‘I hope you haven’t forgotten our little arrangement.’

  Millie sighed. ‘I don’t know how you sleep at night.’

  ‘Maybe I don’t.’ Caprice raised her eyebrows. ‘You never know what sort of things you might hear in the woods after midnight.’

  Millie gulped. Could Caprice have overheard her and Alice-Miranda talking?

  The return trip along the river was much faster than their extended journey out. Before they knew it, they’d rounded the bend and were back at home base. It was just after nine thirty.

  ‘Okay, everyone. You’ve got ten minutes to put your sleeping bags and clothes back in your rooms and brush your teeth,’ Beth instructed.

  The Barn Owls scattered. Mr Plumpton walked into the teacher’s lounge to deposit his things and make a quick cup of tea.

  Miss Reedy looked up from where she was sorting through a pile of paperwork. ‘Good morning, Josiah. How was your camp-out?’
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br />   ‘Hello Livinia. It was no more exciting than I had anticipated, although a few of the children surprised me.’ He walked to the sink and filled the kettle. ‘Would you like tea?’

  ‘I’m fine for now. Which children?’ asked Miss Reedy.

  ‘For a start, Rufus Pemberley has a future as a pyromaniac. You should have seen the size of the fire he was building.’

  Miss Reedy grinned and shook her head. ‘Who else made an impression?’

  ‘Sep Sykes – he’s a star, that lad. And Caprice was outstanding too but I was surprised at Alice-Miranda. She made quite a hash of things yesterday. That’s not like her at all,’ Mr Plumpton said with a frown.

  ‘You know, we do place very high expectations on her. Nobody’s perfect,’ Miss Reedy replied.

  ‘Yes, you’re right, but this is Alice-Miranda we’re talking about. I just can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to it.’

  Fenella Freeman had hardly slept a wink. The murder she had gone to investigate was indeed grizzly, but thankfully the victims were not human: foxes had got into Mrs Playfair’s chicken coop and the woman was hysterical. Fenella had eventually returned to the station and spent several hours researching the stolen Turner. By the time she’d headed home she was absolutely sure that Hugh Kennington-Jones was in possession of a very valuable painting that didn’t belong to him.

  Today was a turning point. A major bust like this would change everything. She’d secured a search warrant as soon as the magistrate had arrived at the courthouse, then driven to Pelham Park just after nine thirty. Matron Bright had been happy to take her straight to the cellars, although the woman hardly seemed to register when Fenella informed her that she was on official police business. She seemed much more concerned with the whereabouts of her missing shortbread order for the fair. Fenella was delighted to find Ed Clifton and his brother in the vault.

  She looked around at the artworks and then back at Ed. Nothing they had told her made any sense at all. ‘Seriously, this just keeps getting better and better,’ she scoffed. ‘You had your own painting stolen from The Met and put it here with all the other stolen art.’

  Hugh shook his head. ‘The stolen paintings are not ours. It’s as much a mystery to us as it is to you.’

  Ed had telephoned Hugh as soon as he’d discovered his own painting newly arrived in the vault. Hugh had literally flown over from Highton Hall in Birdy, the family chopper.

  ‘I don’t know why people like you always think you’re going to get away with it,’ Fenella said bitterly.

  ‘We’re not trying to get away with anything,’ Ed retorted. ‘You’re leaping to conclusions.’

  ‘I don’t think so. There’s quite a bit of evidence right here.’ She picked up Ed’s inventory and flicked through the pages. ‘So, the ones you’ve marked with an asterisk – are those also stolen?’

  ‘Detective Freeman, if I was trying to hide anything, why would I scribble all over that sheet questioning everything?’

  ‘I don’t expect you ever thought I’d find it,’ she said. ‘And it was pretty clever of you too, bringing me down here yesterday. Did you think I was just some hick policewoman without a worldly bone in her body? I don’t suppose you thought I knew anything about art. You’re wrong. I know plenty and my father is an expert.’

  ‘Bring in your teams. Do the forensics,’ said Hugh. ‘We’ve got nothing to hide. Ed was planning to go to the police as soon as he’d worked out exactly how much of it was stolen.’

  ‘Don’t you worry. This place will be searched from top to bottom. But for now, I’m arresting both of you for possession of stolen goods,’ Fenella said.

  Hugh exploded. ‘Arresting us! You can’t do that. We haven’t done anything wrong!’

  But Fenella Freeman didn’t see it that way. These two could spend the night in the lockup and that would give her free rein to do a proper search of the house.

  ‘Come on, then,’ she ordered.

  ‘No,’ Hugh retorted. ‘I’m not going anywhere!’

  ‘Would you like me to add resisting arrest to the charge sheet?’ Fenella threatened.

  ‘Let’s just go with her, Hugh. We can phone Cee from the station and sort something out,’ Ed urged.

  ‘That’s a very sensible approach, Mr Clifton.’ Fenella smiled smugly and pulled a pair of shiny silver handcuffs from her belt.

  Hugh’s jaw dropped. ‘You’re not serious.’

  ‘I won’t make you wear them as long as you come willingly,’ the detective said.

  ‘Mr Plumpton, may I go and help Uncle Ed this morning?’ Alice-Miranda asked as the Barn Owls trotted up the driveway to Pelham Park. She was walking beside Millie and the teacher at the back of the group.

  ‘I don’t see why not, as long as it’s all right with Matron Bright,’ he replied.

  The children were entering the house just as a police car drove around from the back of the building. Detective Freeman certainly spent a lot of time visiting her father, Alice-Miranda thought to herself.

  Millie tugged on Alice-Miranda’s sleeve and pointed. ‘Is that your father? In the back of the police car?’

  Alice-Miranda glimpsed two heads through the windscreen. Her stomach lurched. She had a horrible feeling it was her father in there, and that Uncle Ed was with him. She needed to get down to the cellar as quickly as possible.

  ‘Uncle Ed, are you down here?’ Alice-Miranda called as she wove her way through the maze of furniture. Millie was right behind her.

  The girl marvelled at the strange display and shuddered at all the stuffed animals. ‘It’s like an antique shop. A really freaky one.’

  Matron Bright had grabbed Alice-Miranda as soon as she arrived and explained that her father had turned up at the house very early that morning and gone to the cellar with her uncle. Detective Freeman had arrived about an hour ago and requested access down there too. The matron hadn’t seen the three of them emerge and believed that they were all still downstairs.

  The rest of the Barn Owls were directed to jobs for the fair, but Millie had rushed off with Alice-Miranda. The girls reached the vault but the door was closed.

  ‘I told you I saw them in the police car. You don’t think they could have been arrested, do you?’ asked Millie.

  ‘Of course not,’ said Alice-Miranda, but she wasn’t really sure.

  Millie pointed at the door. ‘Do you know the combination?

  Alice-Miranda stared at the dial. She shook her head.

  ‘Try four, three, two, one,’ Millie suggested.

  Alice-Miranda spun the dial but the door remained firmly shut.

  ‘Maybe the other way around,’ Millie said.

  ‘I think that’s too obvious,’ Alice-Miranda said. ‘Maybe it’s someone’s birthday? I’ll try Daddy’s.’

  It was another dead end.

  ‘What about the year this place was founded?’ Millie said. ‘That could make sense.’

  Alice-Miranda nodded. ‘Tomorrow the house is one hundred and fifty years old so that would make the foundation date … 1864,’ Alice-Miranda counted off the clicks.

  There was a clank as the bolts slid back.

  ‘You did it!’ Millie beamed. Alice-Miranda grabbed the handle. Millie did too, and together the girls pulled the heavy door open.

  ‘Whoa!’ Millie said as she spied the underground art gallery.

  Alice-Miranda drew in a sharp breath. ‘Oh my goodness! That’s it! It’s the painting I saw last night.’

  ‘With the men, in the van?’ Millie said. ‘But how did it get in here?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Alice-Miranda thought about it. ‘There must be passage from the summer house.’

  Millie scanned the walls, searching for something to indicate a doorway.

  Alice-Miranda studied the recent addition carefully and looked at the signature in the bottom right-hand corner.

  ‘I can’t believe this,’ she gasped.

  Millie was busily running her hands over the bare bricks. ‘What a
re you talking about?’ She ran back to where Alice-Miranda was kneeling in front of the portrait.

  ‘The artist. It’s Uncle Ed,’ she said.

  ‘That’s ridiculous. Has anything of his been stolen?’ Millie asked.

  Alice-Miranda nodded. Her parents had told her about a theft at The Metropolitan Museum in New York a couple of months ago. One of Uncle Ed’s paintings was among several works that had gone missing. But how did it end up here?

  ‘We need to find that passageway,’ Millie said.

  Alice-Miranda nodded. ‘I’ve got an idea. If anyone’s going to know about secret passageways, it’s Mr Freeman.’

  She grabbed Millie’s hand and together the girls raced upstairs, leaving the doors open in their wake. They charged up the back staircase to the first floor and ran along the hall. Fortunately, the apartments each had the name of the resident on a plaque on the door.

  Alice-Miranda found Mr Freeman’s name, knocked loudly and then waited, jiggling up and down impatiently with Millie beside her. ‘Mr Freeman, are you there?’ she called after a few moments.

  There was a shuffling sound on the other side of the door.

  ‘Mr Freeman, I need to ask you a question. It’s very important.’

  She heard the lock turn and the door opened. Alice-Miranda barged inside with Millie behind her.

  Donald mumbled, ‘What’s the matter? What’s this all about?’

  ‘Mr Freeman, I can’t remember if I told you earlier in the week that Uncle Ed is here cataloguing Granny’s art collection so that it can be sold,’ she began to explain. ‘Well, we’ve discovered some very odd things down there and I need to ask you a question.’

  Donald sat in his armchair heavily, jolting a little crystal bowl of gold-wrapped chocolates on the table beside him.

  Millie looked towards the noise.

  ‘Have one,’ the old man offered.

  But neither girl was in the mood for sweets. ‘No, thank you,’ said Alice-Miranda. Millie shook her head.

  ‘Mr Freeman, the other day, you said that you and Harry could get into the house without anyone knowing. How did you do it?’