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Chapter Thirty Two

Frank

Frank listened out at the door, but whoever had shut them in had apparently left.

He turned back to the window and tried lifting the pane up. The window was stiff and Frank wondered if he would be able to fit through. Marcus probably could, but the fox was smaller and skinnier than he was.

Frank sighed and walked back to the door.

"Hey, we're not here to trespass, we think something bad is going on!" he called. "My name is Francis Trelawney, I live next door."

"I don't think that'll help," Marcus sighed. "Can't we just climb out the window?"

"It's too small," Frank replied. "You might just about get through though, you could try and make a run for it."

"I don't want to leave you though, I want to stay with you whatever happens. Um, Frank, I think I still love you."

Frank did a double take, wondering if he had heard Marcus correctly.

"What did you just say?"

"I thought I'd say it in case we die," Marcus sighed, splaying his ears and looking embarrassed. "And now I regret saying that out loud."

"We're not going to die," Frank laughed. "But I appreciate it all the same."

"Thanks, I guess."

"But we're certainly not going to die," Frank repeated in the calmest tone he could muster. "At the very least we'll be taken to Fildown police station to explain ourselves."

"Good grief, I hope not," Marcus sighed. "I had been wanting to do more research on the police for my books, but not in that way."

Frank turned back to press his muzzle to the door frame.

"I think this property is in danger!" he shouted. There was silence and Frank felt defeated. "Okay, I'll get the window open. You climb out and look for help."

"And somehow convince everyone we weren't trespassing here," Marcus sighed.

"Yes, you create stories for a living, now might be a good time to put that talent to use," Frank replied.

Marcus was about to reply but Frank thought he heard the sound of someone approaching the door. He put a finger to his muzzle and listened out.

"What was that you said?" the female voice croaked.

"Your property is in danger," Frank repeated. "Look, I'm come in peace and I'm sorry I'm here uninvited. My name is Frank Trelawney and I live in the cottage next door."

"Why are you here?"

Frank remembered what Gareth had said before running away.

"I think someone wants to burn this place down," he said.

"Very well, I'm unlocking the door, but if you try any funny business you'll regret it," the voice said.

"Okay, and just so you know there's two of us in here, but we're both harmless and have no bad intentions," Frank replied. He heard the dull clunk of the lock turning and the door swung open. "Thank you, I'm sorry we... Jesus!" Frank exclaimed as he found himself looking down the barrel of an old fashioned hunting rifle.

The rifle was being clutched by an elderly vixen wearing heavy framed pair of glasses and what looked like a faded apron.

"Come out slowly," she croaked.

Frank did as he was told and moved slowly out of the room with his paws in the air. Marcus walked out sheepishly behind him.

"What is your name?" Frank asked cautiously. "I thought this property was empty?"

"I'm Arabella Mansfield," the vixen replied. "Who is that?" she asked, pointing the rifle at Marcus who yelped and hid behind Frank.

"I'm Marcus Lane," Marcus replied. "I'm an author and journalist," he began to add but Frank gently stepped on Marcus' foot to tell him his name was enough information for now.

Arabella Mansfield lowered her rifle slightly, but her eyes (magnified by the thick lenses of her glasses) looked Frank up and down.

"I live in this property," she said.

"You must be the descendant of Cecil Mansfield who still owns this place," Frank mused.

"I am," Arabella replied, continuing to fix Frank a suspicious gaze. "You said someone wants to burn this house down?"

"Yes," Frank nodded. "Or at least that's the impression I got. You are selling this house for development, right?"

"For development?" Arabella replied, looking confused. "No, it's to a gentleman who wants to preserve my house as a museum."

"Mrs Mansfield, with all due respect, I don't think that's what is happening," Frank said carefully. "I think you may have been sold a pack lies from someone."

"What do you mean?" she asked, flashing him another suspicious gaze.

"I saw a van with HD-C written on the side," Frank explained. "HD-C is a building company who construct housing estates, not museums, and the other day I heard two people discussing something to do with what sounded like burning this house down," he added.

"Who said that?" Arabella asked, raising the rifle's barrel a fraction.

"Local teenagers," Frank explained.

"Local teenagers are always up to no good."

"I know, I know," Frank said, raising his paws again. "But this is a source I can trust. I can prove this to you."

"How?"

"He's a local lad called Gareth Lyons," Frank explained carefully. "He lives close by, and I believe he has a connection to what is going on."

The vixen lowered her rifle again to the point where it was now pointing at the floor. Frank breathed a sigh of relief, and then raised his paws in alarm as he heard a sound behind him.

It took him a moment to realise Marcus' phone was ringing.

"It's Ralph," Marcus announced. "Hello? We're at the Mansfield house."

Frank turned back to the vixen as Marcus spoke down the phone.

"If you let us out, I can get Gareth to come here and explain it," he said carefully, wondering how he could convince the vixen. Arabella cocked her head. "Look, I know it sounds crazy and I wouldn't believe me if I was in your position, but all I can say is it's the truth and I will bring Gareth to you personally to explain."

"If this turns out to be some kind of robbery, I will have both barrels loaded and I will string you up as a warning to anyone else who tries the same thing," Arabella replied.

"Okay, does this mean we can go?"

"Yes," Arabella said, gesturing with the rifle and causing Frank to flinch in case it discharged near his head. "And I warn you, this best be the truth. If not, never come back in here ever again, unless you want to be shot."

Marcus had finished on his phone and Frank grabbed his elbow to lead him down the hallway.

Arabella followed them to the front door and watched as Frank eased it open.

"Thank you, I promise we'll be back with Gareth who will explain everything," Frank said as they stepped out.

He walked briskly to the gates with Marcus in tow and pushed them open.

"Bloody hell that was frightening, and weird, did that really just happen?" Marcus gasped as they began walking back to the village. "Getting locked in a room and then being held at gunpoint by a crazy lady - a situation I never thought I'd be in."

"I think that crazy lady as you put it could also be a person who can also help us find out what Anthony is up to, as Anthony has obviously spun something to her," Frank replied. "Speaking of which, you spoke to Ralph on the phone. Is he here?"

"He is," Marcus said. "And even better, he says he caught Gareth!"

Frank wagged his tail as they walked through the centre of Little Hartbrook.

The church spire was silhouetted against the afternoon sun while the war memorial stood regally by the village green. The yellow stone of the thatched cottages reflected the light which emphasised the pleasant honey colour of the brickwork. The scent of lavender hung in the air and Frank could hear various sounds drifting from open windows; classical music from one, the BBC news theme from another and someone (badly) practicing a clarinet from another cottage. A few local men of various species were playing an impromptu game of cricket on the grass, using a wooden fence stake as a makeshift wicket.

Although the air was warm, Frank wondered if he could detect the first signs of autumn approaching; not that the weather was colder, but a certain atmosphere in the air as the sun got lower in the sky.

It could also be the fact I feel so alive and want to drink everything in after that weirdly shocking experience.

He continued his brisk walk down the lane to Honeysuckle Lodge and noticed Ralph's white Lotus was parked outside.

Marcus opened the gate and they strode up to the front door. Frank watched as Marcus knocked and a moment later Ralph answered.

"What was going on while you were on the phone?" the Doberman asked as they stepped inside.

"It's a long story," Marcus sighed. "But you said you'd caught the little thief?"

"We have," Ralph replied, gesturing for them to follow. "He changed the phone number on the notepad, you know the one about the man who looks after classic cars."

Frank followed them to the kitchen and saw Gareth sat at one of the kitchen chairs with his ears splayed and his tail between his legs.

"So," Marcus began in a dramatic tone, putting his paws on his hips. "You think it's funny to break in here, steal our stuff and leave fur in the bed."

Gareth didn't reply. Instead he gazed at the floor and shook his head.

"He's apologised to me and I gave him a good talking to," Ralph explained. "I think you should apologise to Marcus too as this is his house," he added to Gareth.

"I'm sorry," Gareth mumbled, although Frank noticed the husky fix Marcus a brief but obviously resentful glance.

"Why did you do this?" Marcus demanded.

"I wanted to meet you and get away from not-dad."

"Not-dad?"

"My step-dad, he's an arsehole," Gareth muttered. _ _

"Do you really think you're any more moral than your step-dad if you break into houses, steal things, change phone numbers and try tricking Ralph?" Marcus said, listing off each thing on his paw.

"Says the guy who cheats on their boyfriends," Gareth retorted before clasping a paw to his muzzle and looking frightened.

"How do you know about Tim?" Marcus asked in a confused tone.

"Who is Tim?" Gareth frowned. "I meant Frank." Frank shot Marcus a bemused glance to which the fox responded with a shrug. "And you're killing off Detective Forrest!" the husky added indignantly.

"What?" Marcus replied.

"I read your notes you left out!"

"Don't get self-righteous at me you little fucker, that's another horrible thing you've done, prying into my work like that," Marcus growled. "Oh, and I'm not killing him off, that's a cliff-hanger," he added in a tone of confusion.

Gareth visibly relaxed slightly.

"The main thing is you should apologise to Marcus and Ralph," Frank stepped in. "And apologise properly like a man by looking both of them in the eye as you say it."

"I'm sorry," Gareth repeated, looking at both Marcus and Ralph in turn.

"You said he needed a spank?" Marcus added hopefully.

Gareth's eyes widened.

"You can't do that, that's physical assault!" the husky wailed.

"Try me," Frank replied as he cracked his knuckles. Gareth let out a sound that was between a humiliated whimper and a gulp. Frank knelt down in front of him "Okay, I'm not going to spank you, yet," he said, which prompted a disappointed grumble from Marcus.

"I could do it," Ralph volunteered and Frank rolled his eyes as he noticed Gareth's tail wag slightly.

"No, I don't think that would be a punishment for our young husky, quite the opposite if anything," Frank said, managing to stifle a chuckle. "I want you to give me some information Gareth in return for not getting put over my knee for a good belting, something you really deserve."

"Information?"

"Yes, about the Mansfield house."

Gareth fixed Marcus and Ralph a suspicious glance.

"Should we leave?" Ralph asked. "Maybe that might help the scallywag talk."

"Do you mind, just for a minute?" Frank asked them.

They both nodded and left. Frank glanced into the living room to see an Elkhound already sitting on the sofa. Marcus and Ralph went to sit by him.

"If you do spank him, let me know!" Marcus called.

"Okay, I want to know what you know about Anthony's plans for the place," Frank explained. "I overheard you by my house talking about someone taking a match to it."

Gareth hesitated.

"Look, you don't like your step-dad, you want more excitement in your life, and now you have a chance to be a local hero," Frank continued. "Otherwise," he gestured to his knee and then slapped one of his paws against another for emphasis.

"Okay, okay," Gareth said, looking alarmed. "I think Arseny is planning something weird at the old Mansfield house."

"Go on?"

"He had these blueprints in his desk, he keeps going over there in his car to meet with a calico who drives an Audi, and I think he's shagging her. Oliver and me followed him, actually how come Oliver doesn't get a spank? He encouraged me to break in here in the first place!"

"Oliver will get a talking to after you, now go on!" Frank prompted in a stern voice.

"He also talks on the phone about it, mentioning an old lady or an old bat or something. We went there the other day and he was with more people, they were talking about Plan B which meant taking a match to the place."

"These blueprints in his desk, describe them to me," Frank said.

"I have a photo I took on my phone," Gareth replied, pulling his phone out and unlocking it.

Frank took the phone and gazed down at the image. It showed what looked like a street plan of some kind, and part of Frank didn't feel at all surprised when he noticed the HD-C logo in the corner.

"Interesting," he said quietly before handing the phone back. "Do not delete that image under any circumstances, you got that? We need to keep it."

Gareth nodded.

"Do I escape a beating?" he asked nervously. Frank nodded. "Good," the husky continued.

"Not just yet, you must know what you did was wrong," Frank asserted. "I'd expect someone of your age to know better."

"I do know it was wrong, but it's so dull here," Gareth sighed. "There's nothing to do, and I want to find someone who'll be my love and take me away."

Frank paused as he digested Gareth's words before nodding.

"I think what you really want is to become more self-confident and find some maturity, rather than you being someone else's love," he eventually said. Gareth remained quiet but Frank thought he saw the husky give a slight nod. "And as I say, you have university coming up soon. That's your chance to get away and grow as a person."

Gareth nodded again before letting out a sigh.

"Can I go free now?"

"Nope, we're going to the Mansfield house and you are going to repeat everything you told me to an elderly, rifle toting vixen," Frank said with a grin.

Gareth's eyes widened with shock.