Sorry. I don’t know. I can’t help you.

Bill went on down the street. He stopped at houses and shops. He asked every person, “Do You know Steve Anderson?” Some said “yes”. “Where is he now?” asked Bill. The answer was always the same, “Idont know”.

Bill walked on. A man Walked behind him. Every time Bill stopped, the man behind stopped. Bill went behind a tall car and stopped. The man came up to the car. Bill walked out in front of him.

“Oh!” said the short man.

“Why are you following me?” asked Bill.

“I want to speak to you find hum. And Seteve Anderson”

“What about him?”

“I can help you find him. And the bank money”.

“Who are you?”

“You mustn’t ask me questions.”

Bill was ready to play the little man’s game – he wanted to find Anderson. “Well? Where is he?”

“At Number 45, Barton Road. In the back room on the top floor.”

The little man walked off, fast.

Bill went to Barton Road. He stopped his car at the street. He walked to Number 45. It was an old house. Some of the windows weren’t there. The front door was open. Bill went in. He looked into some of the rooms. There was nothing in them. No tables, no chairs. Bill went up to the top floor.

There was the door to the back room…

It was closed. Bill stopped. The man with the red hair – was he a friend of Anderson? Was he one of the robbers? Was there danger here?

Bill touched the door with his foot – then went back fast, out of the way. The door opened.

“BAAANG!” A bomb went off. It was a fier-bomb. Fire came through at Bill’s feet. The air was hot in his mouth and eyes.

The fire went through the old house like dry grass. Bill was out of it fast. He went to a telephone box and phoned the Fire Station.

Chapter Five

Roy Thompson worked at a food shop. He said to inspector Holt, “I’m very sorry Jim is dead. I liked him. He was a good friend.”

“A friend?”said holt. “You had a fight with him last Saturday.”

“That was nothing. He was still my frien.”

“But Last night you said to Miss Hadley, ‘I’m going to see him. I’m to teach him a lesson.’”

“Well, yes… but that was last night.”

“At seven o’clock. Jim died at 9:45. Who killed him? Was it you?”

“No! it wasn’t me. I went to his home, but he wasn’t there. His mother said, ‘He’s in town.’So I went away.”

“What time was that?”asked Holt.

“it was about 9:30. You cas ask Mrs Wright. You say Jim died at 9:45. Well, I can’t get into town on fifteen minutes. I haven’t got an aeroplane.”

“Have you got a gun?” asked Holt.

“No, I haven’t,” answered Roy.

That afternoon holt went back to the police station.

“Hello,” said Bill. “Who killed Wright?”

“Don’t ask me questions like that,” said Holt.

“Why not? You’re working on it.?”

“Yes, and I’m not getting very far. I talk to a lot or people, but they’re all his friends. They all liked him. So who wanted to kill him?”

“I have lots of friends too,”said Bill. “They like me, I think. But some person wanted to kill me today. With a bomb.”

“A bomb?”

Bill talked about the fire bomb, and Steve Anderson. “I think Anderson put the bomb there ready for me.”

“Why does he want to kill you?”

“Because I know he was one of the robbers. I’m the one person who knows his face. I can put him ‘away’ for ten years.”

“I must think about this,” said Holt. He looked ou of the window. “Perhaps I can help you fins Anderson. Perhaps You can help me find my man too.”

Chapter Six

Mrs Fowler was in front of her TV. A man came to her door. It was Inspector Holt.

“What do you want now?” asked Mrs fowler. Holt had a picture in his hand. “I want you to look at his. Do you know this man?”

Mrs Fowlerlooked at the picture. “I don’t know his name. But I know the face. Yes, I do know that face!”

Bill went to Sylvia’s rooms. She opened the door.

“Please go away,” she said. “I don’t want you here tonight.”

“You wanted me here last night.” said Bill. He walked into the sitting room.

“I have some things to tell you,”said Bill. “So please listen. Yesterday, 5:30, I think a man followed me. At eight o’clock I went to the cafe. I think he followed me again. Then he came hare, to your rooms.”

“NO! NO! That’s not true. I don’t know any man…”

Bill went on. “He said to you, ‘Go to the Blue Bird Cafe. There’s a policeman in there. You can find him. He has a black face. Sit at his table. Talk to him. Then ask him back here, to your rooms. Send him in to the sitting room. You go to the kitchen, out of the way.’

“So you went to the cafe. You came to my table. We talked. You asked me back here. That friend of yours was in here all the time. He had a gun. He was going to kill me.”

“It’s no true!”

“But things went wrong,”said bill. “Jim Wright came here before us. At 9:45. He walked into this room. It was dark in here. But there was light behind him. He was big and tall, like me. Your friend fired the gun. He killed your brother.

You know this is true. But you can’t talk about it – because you helped him. Am I right? I can tell you the man’s name. It was Steve Anderson.”

“How do you know?” asked Sylvia.

“Mrs Fowler looked at the picture of him. She said, ‘I know the face. He comes here often. He is Miss Wright’s boy friend.’”

Sylvia said nothing.

“where is Anderson?”asked Bill.

“I’m here!”

Bill looked round. Anderson was at the door. The short man with red hair was behind him.

“We were in the bedron,” said Anderson.

“We listened. It’s true, of course. I killed the wrong man.”

“Thanks,” said Bill. “I wanted to hear that.”

“It’s no help to you now.” Anderson had his gun in his hand. “This time I’ve got the right man.”

“The right man but the wrong time,”said Bill.

“My friends are in the house. You can’t get away.” Sylvia’s front door opened with a ‘bang’.

Inspector Holt came in with two more policemen.

“Drop that gun,” said Holt. Anderson dropped the gun.

“You were right,”said Bill to Holt. “He killed the wrong man. But Why? Jim Wright had a white face.”

“it was all the same to Anderson,”said holt.

“What do people say about cats?”

“I don’t know. What they say?”

“All cats are black in the dark.”