It wasn’t until dawn that Soot spotted a figure way off in the distance approaching the house on a motorcycle. Snow was still falling from the pale sky, though a little lighter than before. For a moment he wondered if it might be Alberta’s motorcycle, but no – there was no sidecar, and it carried a big burly man in a suit and tie, his long brown coat flapping in the wind behind him like a cape. As soon as the ghost saw the figure approach the gates to Saxby Hall, he jumped down the chimney to tell Stella.
“He’s here!” exclaimed Soot excitedly, as he raced out of the coal chute and into the cellar.
“Who?”
“The policeman, of course!”
“Thank goodness!” replied the girl, sitting up. “What time is it?”
Being down in the cellar all night in complete darkness was extremely disorientating. Stella had no idea how long she had been asleep.
“It’s dawn. Still very early, m’lady.”
“Then there’s no time to lose. Aunt Alberta is an early riser. We need to get to the front door before the detective rings the bell.”
“Then follow me, m’lady,” replied Soot, and together they scrambled up the chute.
The girl’s heart was racing as she darted out of the kitchen and down the corridor towards the front door.
Turning the handle she hissed, “I forgot! The front door’s locked! And Aunt Alberta’s hidden the keys!”
“There must be another way in,” replied Soot.
Through the door they could both hear the motorcycle’s engine being turned off, and the sound of footsteps trudging through the snow.
“If he rings the doorbell he will wake up Aunt Alberta!” said Stella. She was in an awful panic, but fortunately Soot had an idea.
“Then shout through the letterbox before he does!” replied the ghost.
The girl pushed open the brass flap and called through. “Um, hello!” she said.
The footsteps stopped and a figure crouched in front of the door. All Stella could see was a pair of fierce eyes staring back at her through the letterbox.
“Good morning, miss,” said the voice, deep and gruff. “I am Detective Strauss of Scotland Yard.” The man flashed up his police badge to the flap. “You are?”
“Lady Stella Saxby,” replied the girl.
“Ah yes. My colleague on the telephone told me. I must say you don’t look like a Lady!” he scoffed. “More like some kind of… urchin.”
“I am so sorry I haven’t been able to wash and change, I have been locked in the coal cellar.”
“Have you indeed?” His tone was suddenly suspicious.
“Yes, yes I was. I am not lying!” replied the girl, though instantly she regretted saying that as it somehow made it sound like really she was lying. “Thank you so much for coming. I can’t tell you how pleased I am that you are here. But now you are here, I don’t quite know where to start.” Her mind was racing, and the words were tumbling out. “You see I woke up from a coma and my aunt Alberta told me—”
The detective coughed theatrically. “Ha-hum, do you think it might be better if I take a statement from you face to face, miss?”
“Um, oh yes, of course, Detective Strauss, b-b-but…”
“Yes?” The man was sounding rather weary of all this now.
“I er, don’t have the key to the front door.”
“You don’t have the key?” snorted the detective.
“Yes, I mean no. I mean no I don’t have it. I am terribly sorry, sir. I did have it but my aunt’s Great Bavarian Mountain Owl snatched it off me.”
The detective chuckled to himself and sighed. “With respect, miss, your story is becoming more and more ridiculous by the moment!” His eyes loomed towards the letterbox to meet Stella’s. “So it’s just another silly little nipper with an overactive imagination. Wasting police time is a serious offence!”
Stella turned to Soot for help. He tried to give his best supportive smile. She didn’t dare mention to the detective that she had the ghost of a chimney sweep helping her. If she said that then he would no doubt think she was absolutely CRACKERS.
“I am not wasting your time, Mr Strauss,” pleaded the girl.
“Detective Strauss, miss!” he corrected.
“Detective Strauss. Sorry.”
“Ya can get the garage door open,” suggested Soot.
“Oh yes, thank you, Soot,” she replied without thinking.
“Who on earth are you talking to, miss?” demanded the Detective.
“N-n-nobody,” spluttered Stella. “I mean myself.”
“Do you always talk to yourself? It’s one of the very first signs of being nuts.”
“Um, er, n-n-never!” she replied. “I m-m-mean sometimes. Actually just then. That’s the one and only time!”
“If you’ll excuse me, miss, I will be on my way!” said the detective curtly, before turning to go.
“No! Don’t go! Please!” begged Stella, calling through the letterbox. “Walk around to the garage doors, they are at the end of the house to your left. I can let you into the house there.”
“If this is just more of your nonsense I will have no option but to place you under arrest.”
“No no, I promise you it’s not nonsense!” pleaded the girl.
“It better not be,” the detective replied in a very grave tone.