Paddington Complete Novels - Michael Bond

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      It had been a very good day’s detecting, and Paddington decided he would have to pay another visit to the building site when all was quiet.

      It was midnight. All the household had long since gone to bed.

      “You know,” said Mrs Brown, just as the clock was striking twelve, “it’s a funny thing, but I’m sure Paddington’s up to something.”

      “There’s nothing funny in that,” replied Mr Brown sleepily. “He’s always up to something. What is it this time?”

      “That’s just the trouble,” said Mrs Brown. “I don’t really know. But he was wandering around wearing a false beard this morning. He nearly startled poor Mrs Bird out of her wits. He’s been writing things in his notebook all the evening too, and do you know what?”

      “No,” said Mr Brown, stifling a yawn. “What?”

      “When I looked over his shoulder there was nothing there!”

      “Oh well, bears will be bears,” said Mr Brown. He paused for a moment as he reached up to turn out the light. “That’s strange,” he said. “I could have sworn I heard a police whistle just then.”

      “Nonsense, Henry,” said Mrs Brown. “You must be dreaming.”

      Mr Brown shrugged his shoulders as he turned out the light. He was much too tired to argue. All the same he knew he had heard a whistle. But as he closed his eyes and prepared himself for sleep, it never crossed his mind that the cause of it might be Paddington.

      Lots of things had been happening to Paddington since he’d crept out of the Browns’ house under cover of darkness and made his way round to the building site. So many things had happened, one after the other, that he almost wished he’d never decided to be a detective in the first place. He felt very glad when, in answer to several loud blasts on his whistle, a large black car drew up at the side of the road and two men in uniform got out.

      “Hallo, hallo,” said the first of the men, looking hard at Paddington. “What’s going on here?”

      Paddington pointed a paw dramatically in the direction of the new house. “I’ve captured a burglar!” he announced.

      “A what?” asked the second policeman, peering at Paddington. He’d come across some very strange things in the course of duty, but he’d never been called out in the middle of the night by a young bear before. This one seemed to be wearing a long black beard and a duffle coat. It was most unusual.

      “A burglar,” repeated Paddington. “I think he’s the one that took Mr Brown’s marrow!”

      “Mr Brown’s marrow?” repeated the first policeman, looking rather dazed as he followed Paddington through his secret entrance into the house.

      “That’s right,” said Paddington. “Now he’s got my marmalade sandwiches. I took a big parcel of them inside with me in case I got hungry while I was waiting.”

      “Of course,” said the second policeman, trying to humour Paddington. “Marmalade sandwiches.” He tapped his forehead as he looked at his colleague. “And where is the burglar now – eating your sandwiches?”

      “I expect so,” said Paddington. “I shut him in the room and I put a piece of wood under the door so that he couldn’t get out. I got my beard caught in one of the sandwiches – so I switched my torch on to take some of the hairs out of the marmalade and then it happened!”

      “What happened?” chorused the policemen. They were finding it rather difficult to keep up with Paddington’s description of the course of events.

      “I saw someone flashing a light outside the window,” explained Paddington, as patiently as he could. “Then I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, so I lay in wait.” He pointed towards a door at the top of the stairs. “He’s in there!”

      Before either of the policemen could ask any more questions there came the sound of banging and a voice cried, “Let me out!”

      “Good heavens!” exclaimed the first policeman. “There is someone in there.” He looked at Paddington with renewed respect. “Did you get a description, sir?”

      “He was about eight feet tall,” said Paddington, recklessly, “and he sounded very cross when he found he couldn’t get out.”

      “Hmm!” said the second policeman. “Well, we’ll soon see about that. Stand back!” With that he pulled the piece of wood from under the door and flung it open, shining his torch into the room.

      Everyone stood back and waited for the worst to happen. To their surprise, when the man came out it was another policeman.

      “Locked in!” he exclaimed bitterly. “I see some lights flashing from an empty house, so I go to investigate… and what happens? I’m locked in… by a bear!” He pointed towards Paddington. “And if I’m not mistaken, that’s him!”

      Paddington suddenly began to feel very small. All three policemen were looking at him, and in the excitement his beard had fallen off one ear.

      “Hmm,” said the first policeman. “And what were you doing in an empty house at gone midnight, young fellow-me-bear? And wearing a disguise at that! I can see we shall have to take you along to the station for questioning.”

      “It’s a bit difficult to explain,” said Paddington, sadly. “I’m afraid it’s going to take rather a long time. You see… it’s all to do with Mr Brown’s marrow – the one he was going to enter for the vegetable show…”

      The policemen weren’t the only ones who found it all rather hard to understand. Mr Brown was still asking questions long after Paddington had been returned from the police station to the family’s safe keeping.

      “I still don’t see how my losing a marrow has got anything to do with Paddington being arrested,” he said for the hundredth time.

      “But Paddington wasn’t arrested, Henry,” said Mrs Brown. “He was only detained for questioning. Anyway, he was only trying to get your marrow back for you. You ought to be very grateful.”

      She sighed. She would have to tell her husband the truth sooner or later. She’d already told Paddington. “I’m afraid it’s all my fault really,” she said. “You see… I cut your marrow by mistake!”

      “You did?” exclaimed Mr Brown. “You cut my prize marrow?”

      “Well, I didn’t realise it was your prize one,” said Mrs Brown. “And you know how fond you are of stuffed marrow. We had it for dinner last night!”

      Back in his own room, Paddington felt quite pleased with himself as he got into bed. He’d have a lot to tell his friend, Mr Gruber in the morning. Once the inspector at the police station had heard his full story he had complimented Paddington on his bravery and ordered his immediate release.

      “I wish there were more bears about like you, Mr Brown,” he had said. And he had given Paddington a real police whistle as a souvenir. Even the policeman who had been locked in said he quite understood how it had all come about.

      Besides, he had solved the mystery of the flashing lights at last. It hadn’t been anyone in the garden at all, but simply the reflection of his own torch on the window. When he stood up on the end of the bed he could even see himself quite plainly in the glass.

      In a way Paddington was sorry about the marrow. Especially as he wouldn’t get the reward. But he was very glad the culprit hadn’t been Mr Briggs. He liked Mr Briggs – and besides, he’d been promised another ride in his bucket. He didn’t want to miss that.