Paddington Here and Now Read Free Page A

to her face in case she took umbrage.
    “Perhaps it was a window cleaner gone to the wrong house,” suggested Mr. Brown.
    “In that case he made a very quick getaway,” said Mrs. Bird. “I wouldn’t fancy having him do our windows.”
    “I suppose it could have been a trick of the light,” said Mrs. Brown.
    Mrs. Bird gave one of her snorts.
    “I know what I saw,” she said darkly. “And whatever it was, or who ever it was, they were up to no good.”
    The Browns knew better than to argue, and Paddington, who had been given a detective outfit for his birthday, spent some time testing the windowsill for clues. Much to his disappointment, he couldn’t find any marks on it other than his own.All the same, he took some measurements and carefully wrote down the details in his notebook.
    In an effort to restore calm, Mr. Brown rang the police, but they were unable to be of much help either.
    “It sounds to me like the work of Gentleman Dan, the Drainpipe Man,” said the officer who came to visit them. “They do say he’s usually in the Bahamas at this time of the year, but he could be back earlier than usual if the weather’s bad.

    “He didn’t get his name for nothing. He bides his time until he sees what he thinks are some empty premises, and then he shins up the nearest drainpipe. He can be in and out of a house like a flash of lightning. Never leaves any trace of what we in the force call his dabs, on account of the fact that being a perfect gentleman, he always wears gloves.”
    The Browns felt they had done all they could to allay Mrs. Bird’s fears, but the officer left them with one final piece of advice.
    “We shall be keeping a lookout in the area for the next few days,” he said, “in case he strikes again. But if I were you, to be on the safe side I’d invest in a can of Miracle nondry antiburglar paint and give your downpipes a coat as soon as possible.
    “It’s available at all good do-it-yourself shops. Mark my words, you won’t be troubled again, and if by any chance you are, the perpetrator will be so covered in black paint he won’t get very far before we pick him up.
    “Not only that,” he said, addressing Mr. Brown before driving off in his squad car, “you may findyou get a reduction on your insurance policy.”
    “It sounds as though he’s got shares in the company,” said Mr. Brown skeptically, as he followed his wife back indoors. “Either that or he has a spare-time job as one of their salesmen.”
    “Henry!” exclaimed Mrs. Brown.
    In truth, the next day was Friday, and after a busy week at the office Mr. Brown had been looking forward to a quiet weekend. The thought of spending it up a ladder painting drainpipes was not high on his list of priorities.
    In normal circumstances he might not have taken up Paddington’s offer to help quite so readily.
    “Are you sure it’s wise?” asked Mrs. Brown when he told her. “It’s all very well Paddington saying bears are good at painting, but he says that about a lot of things. Remember what happened when he decorated the spare room.”
    “That was years ago,” said Mr. Brown. “Anyway, the fact that he ended up wallpapering over the door and couldn’t find his way out again had nothing to do with the actual painting. Besides, it’s not as if it’s something we shall be looking at all thetime. Even Paddington can’t do much harm painting a drainpipe.”
    “I wouldn’t be so sure,” warned Mrs. Bird. “Besides, it isn’t just one drainpipe. There are at least half a dozen dotted around the house. And don’t forget, it’s nondry paint. If that bear makes any mistakes, the marks will be there forevermore.”
    “There must come a time when it dries off,” said Mr. Brown optimistically.
    “We could get Mr. Briggs in,” suggested Mrs. Brown, mentioning their local decorator. “He’s always ready to oblige.”
    But Mr. Brown’s mind was made up, and when he arrived back from his office that evening he brought