The Curds and Whey Mystery. Bob Burke
mentioned large holes.
I figured if there was any information about the building work, like plans or drawings, it’d be in the construction hut. I could just about make it out in the distance, a small, cheap prefab mounted on blocks. I squelched my way towards it, unsure of what was ahead of me. In order not to alert any security I had decided not to use my torch – a decision I was now regretting as it seemed that every large puddle on the site lay between me and my destination and I was stepping into each one in succession.
Eventually – cold, wet and muddy up to my knees – I arrived at the hut. I listened carefully at the door and, when I didn’t hear any obvious sounds from inside, very carefully picked the lock and slid in. Considering my history at picking locks, it was surprisingly easy. Ensuring the window blinds were closed, I was finally able to flick on my torch and a pencil-thin beam of light swept the room.
In fairness, it didn’t take much in the way of detecting skills to figure out what was going on – the plans were in plain sight, tacked to one of the walls. It would have taken a pretty poor detective to miss them. They confirmed the construction of a new ring road around Grimmtown and the road ran straight through where the Curds and Whey B&B currently stood. Was it any wonder someone wanted her out? If they had been foolish enough to start work on the road without ensuring beforehand that all the land could be built on, then I could understand their urgency. Every day that the road couldn’t go through Miss Muffet’s house was another day of unnecessary costs to the construction company and, if I knew Edna, she wouldn’t take too kindly to any unnecessary costs – or indeed any costs at all usually.
Now that I had the information I needed it was time to disappear. Unfortunately, that looked like it was going to be a futile wish as, just when I was getting ready to open the door, I heard noises from outside the hut. I could tell they were gnomes from the growling half-animal sounds they made, so it probably meant that Edna’s security had been doing their rounds and were coming back to base – a base I was currently occupying and didn’t seem to have anything remotely large enough to hide a pig in. I had a quick – and admittedly extremely optimistic – glance at some filing cabinet drawers, but had to concede that I’d barely get my legs into one of them, let alone the rest of my body. Once the gnomes opened the door they could hardly miss me and, stupid though they were, they would certainly have enough sense to realise I wasn’t supposed to be there. Heaving a long and resigned sigh, I knew there was only one thing for it. I braced myself against the wall opposite the door and waited.
I didn’t have to wait long.
‘Check hut?’ muttered the first gnome.
‘Yeah, we check,’ agreed the second.
‘Got key?’
‘No, you got key.’
‘No, me not got key. You got key.’
At which point there was a minor scuffle, during which one or the other (it was hard to tell which) found that they did have the key after all.
Seconds later peace had broken out and the door opened cautiously. Two unkempt gnomes entered, preceded by their smell. As soon as they were in view, I let out a loud roar and rushed straight at them. It was no contest; a fine specimen of prime ham landing on two weedy security guards, who were already terrified at finding a very large and very angry creature in a hut that had most definitely been empty the last time they’d looked.
The impact took all three of us back out through the door and into a pool of mud on the ground beyond. Fortunately, the gnomes broke my fall, so they took the brunt of the landing as well most of the mud. From the cracking noises I heard it was obvious that my fall wasn’t all they’d broken. As I struggled free, one of them sank his teeth into my leg and I roared in pain.
‘Pig,’ howled the gnome to his companion as he recognised the taste. ‘Not monster; pig.’
As I’ve already mentioned, gnomes are quite stupid. In this instance they were stupid enough not to realise they’d been injured, but not so stupid that they didn’t recognise that their attacker was a pig. Figuring I was easier meat (possibly literally) now that they knew I wasn’t a creature of the night, they seemed a bit more positive about chasing me. Staggering to their feet they lurched after me. Although I had the benefit of a fully working body, they had the advantage that they knew the terrain, so while I splashed my way across a sea of mud, they took drier, less slippery paths and slowly began to close in on me.
I have to say I was, by now, getting just a tad concerned as I was totally lost, had no idea where I was going and couldn’t see my way off the building site. Meanwhile, Tweedledumb and Tweedledumber were gradually getting nearer – moving towards me in straight and presumably dry lines while I blundered around in circles getting muddier and wetter.
‘That’s ’im over there,’ shouted one suddenly, and he scuttled in my direction.
I panicked and began to run. Heedless of where I was going, my only thought was to put as much distance between me and them as I possibly could.
Through the darkness I was just able to make out a small mound of earth. Maybe I could hide behind it. Figuring that it was a better option than wandering aimlessly around a building site in the dark, I dived over it. To my horror I found that, rather than landing on the ground beyond...well...remember those large holes I was talking about earlier? That’s what was at the far side of that little mound. Bracing myself for impact, I landed with a resounding splash into a large pool of dirty water that covered me from head to toe in cold, wet mud. No need to worry about keeping clean now, but from what I could hear of my pursuers I was now so well camouflaged that they had problems finding me. They probably figured I was just another heap of mud.
‘Where he go?’ said one.
‘Dunno,’ said the other. ‘Maybe he escape.’
‘No, he still here. Me heard big splash.’
Clearly my new muddy ensemble allowed me to blend in perfectly with my surroundings. It may have been freezing and mucky but at least it was keeping me safe.
After a half-hearted search, the two gnomes gave up looking for me, finished their patrol and headed back to the hut. Rather than continue to wander in confusion around a dark building site, I chose to remain hidden where I was – cold and wet – until daylight. As soon as the skies began to lighten and I could see my way, I sneaked out of the building site and made my way home for a long, warm and much needed shower.
Revenge Is a Dish Best Served with Bacon
Later that morning – clean, dry and smelling so much nicer – I considered my options. I knew who was trying to frighten Miss Muffet out of business and I knew why. Now all I had to do was convince one of Grimmtown’s most notorious criminals to back off and leave my client alone. I was more than a bit apprehensive as, even though I had something over Edna, she was a woman who didn’t like to be crossed, especially if it involved her losing money – and I was quite certain that, in this instance, it would.
I required a plan; I needed it to work and, above all, I needed it fast. But I was stumped. Yes, the great detective didn’t know what to do. As I sat at my desk waiting for inspiration, I had a quick read of the front page of our daily newspaper, the Grimmtown Times. The headlines were of the usual type:
Dumpty Wins Citizen of the Year for Third Year Running.
Grimmtown Goblins Reach Regional Finals.
Tuffet’s Historic Status Confirmed by Local Archaeologist.
Mother Goose Wins Libel Case. Ugly Duckling Must Pay Damages.
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