That evening the girls sat miserably on the carpet trying to finish a jigsaw puzzle they had started on Rachel's first day, the day of pouring rain and howling high winds, while Mr and Mrs Tate watched the news.
"I don't know what is getting into people, that is yet another murder! I'm sure it's not normally that bad," said Mr Tate to his wife.
"And there was that big bank raid in London too, like something out of a novel!" Mrs Tate replied.
"Have you seen this," Mr Tate passed Kirsty's mother the local newspaper.
"Oh! Poor Mrs Steventon!"
"And already Mrs White was attacked a few days ago and is still in hospital."
"What's this Dad?" Kirsty turned around to look at her parents sitting together on the sofa. Rachel looked too.
The grown-ups looked at each other a little worried.
"We're not babies!" Kirsty said hotly.
"It's the old peoples' bungalows by the park. There's been four thefts, the last one poor Mrs White was hit on the head and is still very poorly and now... now the thief has killed Mrs Steventon!"
"That's horrible. Even if she was over 90," Kirsty couldn't help adding.
"Kirsty!" said her Mum and Rachel together.
"Sorry," said Kirsty while Rachel gave her a meaningful look and her Mum a cross look.
"But these things are rare girls, so don't go worrying about it, will you? I'm sure the police will catch whoever it is soon. How about some cake and cocoa before you go to bed? I'm sure I would like some cake," said Mr Tate, smiling winningly at his wife, Kirsty's Mum.
Once in Kirsty's bedroom the girls could talk.
"It must be like Jean said, the balance is still all wrong," Rachel said once Mrs Tate had said goodnight and switched of the big light and closed the door.
"We found the police station and most of the law and order fairies now, you would think it wouldn't be so bad. But more murders than usual. And a big bank robbery. And a murder in my village!" Kirsty knew she shouldn't be so excited.
"I think it must be because we haven't found the CID fairies. Only the retired ones. Earlier this week, do you remember, on the local news some expert was talking about the increase in drunken violence and anti social behaviour? That seems to have stopped. It's because we got the police station back! But we have to find Robbie and James for it all to be safe and calm here again. It's quite scary."
"It's really scary. Okay, I know I'm a bit excited, but when you think about it, it is the most scary thing we've had to do!"
"I know. But do you know what else I'm thinking?"
"What?" asked Kirsty.
"We must go to the old people bungalows. It's a crime scene, we might find Robbie or James there."
"I can't see Mum and Dad letting us go."
"They've known about these attacks and they've already let us out in the village. We just say we're going for a walk, or to the shops for some sweets, or something. We have to Kirsty! This isn't just for Queen Titania and King Oberon and for Jean, it's for our world too!"
"I know Rachel. I know." She came and sat on her friend's bed and they girls hugged each other tightly for a minute before deciding they needed to get to sleep, they needed to get up early on Saturday and find Robbie and/or James.
The old people's bungalows were on the edge of the village, ten semi-detached redbrick bungalows built after the war, according to Kirsty's Gran, who had grown up in the village. They were built in a semi circle around a green, the apex a large, concrete block of sheltered homes built later on, in the 1960s. Rachel rolled her eyes in boredom when Kirsty told her that, and Kirsty got upset. She had done a project on the village last year.
"I got a gold star!" she protested.
"But does it matter now?" Rachel asked.
"I think the older the building the more the magic, for good or bad. Jack Frost seems to mostly imprison fairies or hide their magical things in older buildings. Haven't you noticed?"
Rachel looked cross. She was, with herself. "No," she said quietly.
When they arrived, they saw half the green and two bungalows taped of with yellow and blue tape saying 'police'. Men and women in white coveralls were walking around the garden and bit of green in front of Mrs Steventon's bungalow. There was a tall, older, man with dark hair with greying, wispy bits at the temples, dressed in a blue one talking to a short woman in a white suit on the drive of the bungalow.
"Oh no," said Kirsty, pulling Rachel with her behind a tree.
"What?"
"That's my uncle. If he sees us he'll tell Mum and she will be so cross. We told her we were going to the shops and the park, remember?"
"Okay. So what do we do?"
"Let's sneak around the back, there's a bridleway that runs along the back of the bungalows that side. We can try and get into the back garden through the hedge. The ones that were broken into first are the next to the ones Mrs Steventon and Mrs White live in."
"Or lived in," said Rachel.
"That's gross," said Kirsty. "And sad."
"But a bit exciting. Better than dying of old age anyway," said Rachel.
Kirsty just gave her friend a look that said 'not funny' and led the way back out of the cul de sac to the main road and the entrance to the bridle path.
The middle of the path was rutted and grooved, with dried horses' hoof prints and large tyre track marks made by a tractor. The sides were overgrown with brambles, hawthorns and nettles.
"I hope you don't want us to crawl through that," Rachel said, catching her hair in a bramble branch and scratching her hand on a thorn. She then stumbled and stung her ankle on a nettle. She yelled in shock and pain.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine. Just stinging a bit, that's all."
"Good. I don't think the other side is so overgrown, the side with the gardens, there's an old man here and he does all the gardens for the old ladies."
They went on down the path. As soon as they came to the back of the first two bungalows and their gardens Kirsty began to count. She had looked in her Dad's local paper that morning while Rachel had kept her Mum busy with questions about when her parents would arrive tomorrow. Numbers three and five had been burgled, Mrs White lived at number seven and poor Mrs Steventon at number nine.
"Here," she said as they got to the first one that had been broken into. The girls peered into the garden through a neat box hedge, carefully avoiding the nettles and thistles the path side of it.
The garden looked neat, with rows of marigolds and a small vegetable patch, some garden furniture laid out on a patio next to the back door. Unfortunately two old people, a man and a woman, were sitting there in the sunshine, drinking tea and talking to a tall, blond, young, man in a suit.
"I think that's one of my uncle's detective constables," Kirsty said miserably.
"We'll come back later, in case Robbie or James are trapped in that one. Keep your eye out for goblins as well as human police, okay."
"Sure," said Kirsty, feeling funny, realising that she might be more scared of her mother and father finding out about her adventures than goblins. She was sure that they wouldn't believe her if she was forced to explain about working for King Oberon and Queen Titania.
The girls moved onto the next garden. It was separated from the path by a high wooden fence but there were several holes and gaps, it was extremely weathered and had seen better days. It was easy for the girls to peer though the gaps.
This one had a much bigger vegetable patch, a large compost heap near to where they peered making them feel queasy with its rotting vegetable smell. It also had a fishpond and lots and lots of garden gnomes. A few were smashed, the ones near the back door and back of the house, and the kitchen window was boarded up with plywood panels and taped over with police tape. No one appeared to be home.
"Can we get in?" asked Rachel, leaning over Kirsty's shoulder.
"I'm not sure. I think we could break this plank, it's rotten and half broken away anyway. Let's look at the other two now."
The third garden belonged to Mrs White, who had been assaulted and was currently in hospital. The garden was mostly lawn, with rambling rose bushes and trellises around the windows, brickwork, and side fences. A piece had been pulled down and the backdoor to the kitchen was nailed up, its handles pulled off. Unless Robbie or James were hidden somewhere among the roses, there was nowhere for anything to be hidden.
"Nothing here," whispered Rachel. She whispered, because although neither girl could see anyone, they could both hear a policewoman talking over her radio.
"Let's look into Mrs Steventon's garden then," said Kirsty, heading on down the path.
Mrs Steventon's garden was covered in the same thick brambles, branches, and weeds, of the other side of the path. The girls pulled their cardigan sleeves over their hands to pull apart branches and thorns to look in the garden.
"I thought you said there was an old man who did the gardening?" Rachel hissed.
"There is. He obviously doesn't like Mrs Steventon. She is... was... really rude and grumpy!"
Inside it was not much better, long grasses as high as the girls' waists covered the garden, along, no doubt, with hidden thistles and weeds. An apple tree was in one corner, its branches spreading over a quarter of the garden. Police tape went around the kitchen door and kitchen and bathroom windows and two policemen were stood in the garden, one by the door, and one by the gate to the drive and the front of the bungalow.
"We can't look here," Rachel said miserably.
"Let's go back to number five. There was no one at home and the police had obviously finished there."
"Good plan. Then, if the people in number three have gone in we go there. I don't fancy going into number nine. We won't find anything."
"No, nor do I. Let's hope we don't have to. If one of them or both of the last law and order fairies left to find are here they'll be at the oldest crime scenes, won't they?"
"I think so. It makes sense. Unless Jack Frost knew that those old ladies would be attacked. And he's not that bad, is he?" Rachel's voice had a catch in it, like she hadn't thought about how bad he was.
"I don't think so. I think he's just jealous of the King and Queen and the Fairy Kingdom, and angry he gets left out."
"But the more he steals things and kidnaps fairies then it's harder for the King Oberon and Queen Titania to forgive him, isn't it? Come on, let's do this," Rachel said determinedly. This was getting so big and tomorrow she went home, leaving poor Kirsty to do the finding and rescuing alone. And it wasn't safe for one of them to face the goblins alone, was it?
They searched the gardens of Mrs White with difficulty, avoiding the two police officers, and then numbers five and three much more thoroughly, the old people of number three having gone in. They found nothing. Once they had to duck behind the compost as the tall, blond, very white, male, CID officer and a uniformed, dark-skinned, policewoman came into the garden and looked at the hedgerow between that garden and Mrs White. The man pulled on a pair of gloves and retrieved a piece of blue thread from the branches and put it in a plastic bag the policewoman held open. The girls looked knowingly at each other – evidence left behind by the thief and murderer! But they needed evidence of a different kind, of goblin kind and fairy kind.
"We'll have to go back to Mrs Steventon's garden," Kirsty said.
"I know," replied Rachel, not sounding too happy about it.
The girls didn't know where to start and stood for some moments in the wilderness.
"They could be anywhere. Or nowhere."
"So might a goblin or two," Rachel said cautiously.
"Strange had been abandoned. Let's hope that so have Robbie and James."
"I put some pieces of toast, fruit, and sweets, in a plastic bag this morning when your Mum wasn't looking. In case they are hungry too."
"Good plan. But what now?"
Rachel scanned the garden. "Let's each take a corner and work along the back fence 'til we meet, then we'll do the sides. We'll leave the middle to last!"
Both girls worked diligently and systematically. Rachel found a couple of big goblin footprints and the girls were much more wary after that, although as Kirsty said, they didn't look like fresh prints, probably days old.
Kirsty suddenly thought she heard something, a tiny, heavy, sigh and a small, gruff voice say what sounded like might have been a bad word. She was just about to push back the grasses and weeds, as she saw a piece of metal glinting in the sunlight when she heard,
"What on Earth are you two wee lasses doing here?"
Kirsty stood up and span round. Rachel rushed over to join her and grabbed her by the arm.
"Kirsty. What in hell's name...? Does your Mam know you're here?"
"She thinks we're at the play park," Kirsty mumbled, looking at her feet.
"We're looking for fairies!" Rachel blurted out, looking up at the other, very tall, man standing behind Kirsty's uncle.
Kirsty's uncle smiled that indulgent, patronising, smile grown-ups seemed to specialise in when hearing the word 'fairy'. Kirsty glared at her friend, they had promised to keep it all a secret.
"Aren't you a little old for these games now pet? It's dangerous you know, there has been a murder. You run along home."
"It's more dangerous if we don't find him," Rachel said. "We're looking for the law and order fairies. They hold the balance of law and order in our world. They've been kidnapped. If we don't find them there will be more old ladies murdered! And worse!" Rachel said angrily. Kirsty stared in shock at her friend, while her uncle smiled even more indulgently. The young, tall, blond, man looked at Rachel with attention and curiosity.
"I don't doubt that's highly imaginative and mebbe you half-believe it, but you need to let us do the real policing. We will catch the murderer, never you fear. You run along with your clever friend now Kirsty and I'll say nowt to your Mam."
"Maybe they are telling the truth sarge. We found some very strange footprints about the garden."
"Oh no! Not this again. The Chief Inspector does not want to hear anything more about those sodding footprints. And neither do I!"
"There are more things in heaven and earth than you dream about in your philosophy, sergeant."
"Not more blood... blooming Shakespeare constable!"
The young blond man smirked and then looked at the girls. "You have to be careful, I doubt you are in any danger, but you are contaminating a crime scene. Our scene of crime officers haven't finished with this garden yet. Do you understand girls?"
Just then the young, dark skinned, uniformed policewoman appeared at the garden gate. "Sarge! The Guv is here and he's demanding a sit rep."
Kirsty's uncle sighed and looked at Kirsty and Rachel, "Go home girls. Or at least, get out of sight. And no more trampling on our crime scene. Get it? Me boss will not be happy to see two kids here and he'll have me hide, so do your uncle a favour lass, and skedaddle. Just make sure you're not here when I come back with the Chief Inspector. Okay?" He sighed again and turned, "Coming Lockhart!"
The young detective constable set off after Kirsty's uncle, but he turned once and winked and put his finger to his lips, smirking again.
Once all adults were safely heading towards the garden Kirsty and Rachel knelt down and Kirsty pulled back the grasses and weeds again while Rachel picked up an old, rusted metal tin, the type that once might have held assorted chocolates, the kind grown-ups gave each other at Christmas. She quickly pried open the lid.
Inside was another male fairy; this one in a half-faint, lying on his side, his wings drooped over him and almost translucent, as if he were fading away. He had dark hair and wore a darkish suit but that was all they could see in the gloom of the overgrown garden in the matt grey of the inside of the tin.
Suddenly they could hear voices, a loud, posh, voice, moaning about things and insulting Kirsty's uncle. They then heard her uncle arguing back about the difficulty of the evidence and location.
Quickly Rachel slammed down the lid and rushed towards the gap in the back they had crawled in. Kirsty followed, feeling sick. She was afraid the fairy might be dead of hunger or lack of oxygen, if fairies needed to breathe. But she had heard him sigh. What if he had died while her uncle had been telling them off and mocking them? She couldn't bear it!
Once both girls had wriggled through the gap and run down the bridleway and all the way to the play park and crawled into the 'Wendy House' under the climbing frame they looked at each other, neither daring to speak or reopen the tin, just in case...
It had started to cloud over and spit with rain while they had been in the garden talking to Kirsty's uncle and now it started to rain properly. All other children and parents began to pack up and leave. They were alone and would not be interrupted by curious eyes of younger children nor told off by adults concerned they were too big for the 'Wendy house'.
"We have to see," Rachel said finally.
"Get out the food you packed! Hopefully he is just hungry. Like Strange was."
"You found Strange!" said a little voice. "I didn't even know he was missing!"
"You're alive. Thank goodness!" Kirsty ripped off the tin lid and Rachel hurriedly fumbled with her bag to retrieve the emergency food supplies she had packed in case the goblins had abandoned Robbie and James as they had Strange.
"Barely. I was trying to sleep so I didn't feel so hungry or need so much air. It was hard to sleep being jolted about rattling about in that tin like a bean in a maraca! What's this about Strange?"
"Jack Frost kidnapped the retired fairy police too," explained Rachel.
"But don't worry, we've already found Morse and Max as well as Strange," reassured Kirsty.
"Good. I take it you are Kirsty Tate and Rachel Walker. I had a feeling their Majesties would commission you. I was getting a bit worried about you both, mind, it's not puppies or cake we're talking about here. And when that poor wee lady was killed last night... I'm a witness! How on earth are we going to get the adult human police to listen to me."
"You saw him?" Rachel asked, amazed.
"Not with my eyes, no, I was in the tin. But I heard them, and the night before, which is why last night I used a bit of magic, a sort of seeing-eye, sending my vision out of the tin. I can describe them."
"How will we get a grown up to listen?" asked Kirsty.
"And isn't it against the laws of fairy magic, to show yourself to a grown-up?" asked Rachel, worried.
"Yes. Mostly. Adult humans have to been gifted and vetted for us to work with them. Unless they're still in touch with their inner child – sometimes grown-ups stay small inside, but that's usually for bad reasons. We have to be kind to them and stay away, as other grown ups will call them crazy. But don't worry girls, I'll think about it when I'm not so faint. I heard one of you say something about food?"
Rachel quickly produced the bag with the scraps she had taken from Mrs Tate's kitchen and her breakfast plate.
The fairy quickly revived as he ate the toast, fruit, and sweets, and drank some water from the thimble Rachel had also thought to pack along with a bottle of mineral water. He had been so wan and pale, his dark hair plastered to his face, and his wings, that had been drooped and translucent, were now raised and brightened. His hair now had fluffed up to a smooth, dark, short cut, forward facing, that had a side parting over his forehead. His face now grew pink and red; he lost his pallor with every mouthful of food and every sip of water.
His wings were large and were striped; the girls had never seen striped wings before, nor had they seen wings of only black and white. The white shimmered and sparkled with magic. They were very striking and boyish, the girls supposed, rather than pretty and girly like all the fairies they had met before this latest adventure Superintendent Jean had sent them on. They didn't even know who he was, they realised.
"Are you James or Robbie?" asked Rachel.
"James!" he cried, startled. "You've not found James! I was hoping I was the last!"
"So, you're not James?" clarified Rachel.
"No. I'm Robbie. But... James? What if they've left him too with no food? Lad's as skinny as a rake and always hungry. We have to find him!"
Rachel and Kirsty had not seen such concern on any other fairy in the same way for another, not even with Jean for her best friend or her father on this latest adventure.
"What about finding a way to tell our police about Mrs Steventon's murderer?" asked Kirsty.
"And don't you need to get back to King Oberon, Queen Titania and Chief Superintendent Jean?" Rachel asked at almost the same time.
"Of course I do, but James is more important right now. They can wait, both their Majesties and your human police. James is clever, he'll figure out a way to tell the human police and it'll be better if we both return home together. What have you done already? Have you already tried to find my James at all?"