Mr Badger and the Missing Ape by Leigh Hobbs Page B

NOT ENTER.’
    Mr Badger opened the door and crept in.
    The walls were covered with framed photographs. He looked carefully, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. At first he thought he was seeing things. These were old photographs, of a very young Sir Cecil Smothers-Carruthers.

    Sometimes Mr Badger had to ignore instructions.
    In fact, they were all of Sir Cecil – well, Sir Cecil was certainly in all of them. They showed Sir Cecil on safari. Mr Badger could tell this was so, as not only was Sir Cecil wearing a pith helmet, but in one photograph he was sitting on top of an elephant, and in another he was chasing butterflies with a net. There were also quite a few of him peering through binoculars at wild animals in the distance.

    Resting on a shelf were the very same binoculars and pith helmet which appeared in the photographs. Next to them was a pair of hiking boots and a rucksack. Mr Badger was amazed, to say the least.
    However, he was about to get an even greater surprise, for on the wall opposite were yet more photographs. And these had another familiar face in them.

    Mr Badger moved up close and gasped. Looking back at him was Sir Cecil Smothers-Carruthers, but he wasn’t alone. For with him was a slightly smaller, but still instantly recognisable, and even then very big, Algernon.
    There they were, sitting in the jungle with a plate of scones and jam between them, sharing a pot of tea and a banana cake. Next to that was a photograph of them shaking hands, laughing and looking at the camera. In another, Algernon was wearing a pith helmet – Sir Cecil’s, no doubt.
    Mr Badger had always known Sir Cecil was terribly fond of Algernon, even if he was stuffed and standing in a glass case. ‘Outrageous!’ Sir Cecil would mutter whenever Lady Celia suggested a complete hotel clean-out and major redecoration, starting with the tossing out of Algernon.
    â€˜What good is that old ape anyway?’ she would say. ‘That flea-bitten beast in the foyer sends a very poor message to our guests. It makes them think that they’re staying in a zoo. As well, it frightens our dear little granddaughter, Sylvia.’

    Sir Cecil would have none of it. ‘The ape stays,’ he would always say, ‘and that is that.’
    Now Mr Badger thought he understood why.

    Sir Cecil refused to budge where
Algernon was concerned.

CHAPTER SEVEN
A Clue at Last
    I t was getting late. The dining rooms were closed and the lights had been dimmed. Visitors had left for home, while upstairs the Boubles Grand Hotel guests were tucked into their comfortable beds, undoubtedly enjoying the hotel’s speciality – the famous late-night Boubles Grand Hotel hot chocolate.
    Back downstairs in their office, however, Miss Pims and Mr Badger were meeting as planned, to discuss the progress of their search.

    â€˜I looked everywhere on my list and found nothing,’ said Miss Pims, a little downcast.
    â€˜I’ve not found him either,’ replied Mr Badger, choosing his words carefully. He thought it best to keep the discovery of the secret room a secret, for the time being anyway.
    Mr Badger was concerned that Sir Cecil Smothers-Carruthers would be terribly upset once he knew Algernon had disappeared. So he decided he would stay all night and continue to look for the missing ape.

    He suggested to Miss Pims that she may as well go home.
    â€˜No need for us both to go without sleep,’ he said with a faint smile. Then he phoned Mrs Badger to explain the situation. Mr Badger didn’t want her worrying.
    â€˜Yes, my dear, it’s a very strange thing, a mysterious disappearance which must be solved as soon as possible. I’ll see you tomorrow, and I do indeed have a clean spare uniform.’

    He put down the phone and said goodnight to Miss Pims.
    â€˜And goodnight to you too, Mr Badger. I’m sure we’ll find him, so try not to worry.’

    As she left, Miss Pims called back over