by Bob Burke
‘Is this him?’ This was a deep I’m-a-tough-guy-so-don’t-screw-with-me kind of whisper.
‘How many pigs in trench coats do you see walking around Grimmtown? Of course it is,’ whispered a second, just as intimidating voice.
Now I didn’t recognise either voice, but I figured they were the types who would do me irreparable damage if I suddenly tried any heroics – not that I was going to try too much while I had a bag on my head.
I could still hear noises from outside the vehicle and could feel the wind buffeting my head, which suggested I was in a convertible of some kind, but I couldn’t feel any vibrations or engine noise. It was a very strange sensation. I extended my arms on either side but couldn’t feel any doors or walls. Mystified, I ran my trotters across the floor. It seemed to be made of very plush material; possibly a carpet.
Carpet! Of course. I wasn’t in the world’s quietest sports car after all. I knew exactly where I was and, more to the point, who had abducted me. Yet again I had one of those sinking feelings I knew only too well. Yes, things had gone from bad to very much worse.
‘Hi, Ali, can I take the bag off now? I presume we’re on your magic carpet.’
There was a brief round of slow, sarcastic applause and then a voice said, ‘Of course Harry. My, my, it didn’t take you too long to figure out where you were, did it?’
The bag was pulled roughly from my head and I found myself staring straight into the face of one of Grimmtown’s biggest gangsters, Ali Baba. Ah yes, now the plot was really thickening. If Ali had me, then my life expectancy was dropping fast to roughly the same level as a haemophiliac’s at a vampire convention.
Then, to my complete surprise, Ali said something that I never thought I’d ever hear him say, ‘Harry, I need your help.’
‘Excuse me,’ I said, shock visible on my face. ‘Could you repeat that? I’m not sure I heard it properly.’
‘You heard. I need your help.’ To be fair, he did look as if he was struggling to say the words.
Now this was roughly akin to the fox asking the Gingerbread Man for his assistance, so you can imagine my disbelief. ‘Why exactly do you need my help?’
Ali Baba looked at me strangely. ‘Presumably you’ve heard about what happened last night.’
‘Not really, I’ve been out of town,’ I said.
He threw a newspaper at me. ‘Read the main article.’
I picked up today’s edition of the Grimmtown Gazette and read the huge headline that dominated the front page.
Crime Wave in the City
Grimmtown Terrorised
That’s what I like about the Gazette – it doesn’t go for sensationalism! I read on.
The citizens of Grimmtown are cowering in fear in their homes today after a spectacular series of robberies across the city last night.
At exactly midnight forty of Grimmtown’s wealthiest families and businesses were burgled in a series of elaborate heists. In every case, alarm systems were circumvented and security cameras picked up little or no trace of the intruders. Some blurred and very brief footage that some cameras did record shows what appears to be a single burglar, dressed in a tuxedo entering the premises. Grimmtown PD advise that there isn’t enough detail in any of the footage to make an accurate identification. Despite this the police say they are following a definite line of enquiry.
As of now, no precise details of what was stolen are available but the haul is described by a Grimmtown PD spokesperson as ‘substantial’.
I looked across at Ali Baba and raised an eyebrow. ‘Forty burglaries, forty thieves. It’s not much of a stretch, is it? Even Grimmtown PD must have been able to figure it out.’
‘Except for one small detail that they appear to have chosen to overlook: I didn’t do it.’
I raised my other eyebrow. ‘Really?’ I have to say, I agreed with Grimmtown’s finest here. Even without any evidence, Ali Baba and his forty thieves surely must have been a shoo-in for the crime; the numbers were just too coincidental.
‘Yes, really,’ Ali Baba continued as we sped through the streets of the city. ‘Although I think it’s fair to say that even if I and my men had been having dinner with the police commissioner and the mayor last night when these admittedly admirable crimes were committed, they’d probably still have arrested me. Except for the fact that the evidence is, as of now, circumstantial and I have an exceedingly good lawyer, I might still be imprisoned.’
‘So what’s all this got to do with me?’ I asked, although I had a fairly good idea what – and it wasn’t something I was particularly looking forward to.
‘Quite simply, I think someone is trying to frame me. I want you to find out who actually did these crimes and clear my name.’
‘You’re kidding, right?’
‘Do I look like I’m kidding?’
Actually he didn’t – but then again, he never looked like he was kidding. He had that kind of face and he wasn’t noted for his sense of humour.
‘But I already have a client. I can’t abandon her,’ I protested, knowing that it was a futile gesture.
‘Well, now you have two clients,’ Ali replied. ‘I can’t imagine your caseload is so heavy that you can’t manage two clients at once.’
‘Well, my current case is proving problematic. I’m not sure I can give you the time that you might reasonably expect in a case of this complexity.’
Ali gave a sigh of frustration and turned to the front of the carpet. ‘Sayeed,’ he said, ‘if you’d be so kind.’
The pilot, who was sitting cross-legged at the front of the craft, nodded once. The magic carpet lurched forward and then began to ascend through the evening sky. In panic I scrabbled around, looking for something to grab on to so as not to plummet down into the streets below. Around me, the two henchmen and Ali Baba seemed totally unaffected by the sudden ascent as they sat on the carpet, laughing at my discomfiture. How come they didn’t look scared? And, more importantly, how come they didn’t fall off?
Ali must have known what I was thinking. ‘Velcro,’ he said.
The magic carpet continued to shoot upwards and, as the pilot increased the angle of ascent, I began to slide towards the back of the carpet. Ali Baba showed great courtesy in leaning to one side to allow me to pass him by. I looked up as I zipped past him and caught his eye. He must have taken pity on me as he ordered Sayeed to level out – just before I tumbled off the edge of the carpet. What was it with this case, all these flying vehicles and close shaves?
With an all too familiar sense of resignation – why was I suddenly detective of choice for Grimmtown’s crime fraternity? – I nodded to Ali and confirmed that I’d take on the case, although it was not as if I had much of a choice, was it? I either agreed to Ali’s terms or became a pork pizza on the street below.
‘OK, OK,’ I gasped. ‘You have my complete and undivided attention. Now, just so we can be clear, you say you weren’t responsible for these robberies.’ Ali nodded.
‘So I assume you have an alibi for midnight last night?’
Ali shifted and looked uncomfortable. ‘Well, yes and no.’
‘What do you mean “Yes and no”?’ I knew it, it had been too good to be true. Here came the wrinkle.
‘As I’ve already said, we weren’t responsible for the forty robberies the police are interested in because we were in the process of relieving Danny Emperor’s warehouse of his entire stock of gentlemen’s clothes. We bypassed the alarms at ten p.m. and spent over four hours cleaning the place out. It was quite a haul.’
‘Are you trying to tell me that you didn’t commit the forty robberies at midnight because you were busy burgling somewhere else? What kind of an alibi is that?’
‘It is a somewhat unfortunate alibi as alibis go, I will admit, but the fact remains, we are not responsible for last night’s crime wave, but we can’t tell the police why exactly, can we?’
No, I thought, you were too preoccupied with a smaller one of your own.
My thoughts
were interrupted by the ringing of my phone. With a nod from Ali, I was allowed answer it. ‘Hello,’ I said. ‘Whoever this is, it’s not a good time.’
‘Harry, it’s me: Danny.’ Oh well, there was a surprise. I suppose he wanted my help too.
‘Danny, can I call you back? I’m in the middle of something here.’
‘Please, Harry, just give me five minutes. I’ve been robbed. It’s my warehouse. It’s been completely cleaned out.’
‘Gee, Danny, that’s terrible. Any idea who did it?’ Well, I couldn’t really say I was looking at the culprit, could I? Not if I didn’t fancy going for another flying lesson.
‘The cops have no idea, but they don’t think it’s linked to the other robberies last night.’
‘Well, that’s good at any rate. Listen I really need to go, can we talk about this later?’
‘Harry, please; it’s my livelihood. I need your help. Please, tell me you’ll take the case.’
Typical: I’d gone from zero to three cases in under a day and I didn’t want any of them. Mind you, at least I knew who had robbed Danny – although I wasn’t sure I’d be too successful in revealing the culprit. Then I had an idea; it might have been an idiotic idea but it might get me off the hook on at least one of the cases. ‘Danny, I’ll take your case. Now I really have to go. I’ll catch you later, OK?’ Before he could say anything else, I hung up.
‘Here’s the story,’ I said to Ali Baba. ‘I’ll take your case, but my fee is that you return everything you stole from Danny’s warehouse.’
Ali’s eyes narrowed. ‘I think, perhaps, that you may want to reconsider that last statement.’
I reconsidered (for a nanosecond) and ran the options through my head: solve one case immediately – check; give Ali Baba some of my time while I tried to solve his case – check, but then again I didn’t have a choice, did I? At least it was an easy way for Ali to get out of paying in the event I did manage to sort out his problem – not that I held out too much hope of solving it; I was more concerned with how to keep Ali sweet while I investigated what seemed like an impossible case – while trying to not run foul of a police force that believed they already had the case wrapped up. Nice!
‘No, Ali, I don’t think so.’ I wasn’t sure where this sudden bout of courage had come from, but I’d had just about enough of being pushed around. ‘Drop me off the carpet if you want, but my terms are that you return Danny’s clothes. Otherwise no deal.’ I looked into his eyes wondering if he had the same stare staying power as Rudolph – I hoped not, calling my bluff would put me in a very weak negotiating position (as in being dangled by my ankle from a magic carpet high above Grimmtown).
Ali didn’t even try to argue the toss – maybe he felt that me clearing his name was more then recompense for having to part with the spoils of his latest crime. ‘Very well, Harry,’ he said, with a nonchalant wave, ‘it’s a deal. Where can we drop you off?’
I sincerely hoped that he was using that phrase as a figure of speech. ‘Somewhere near my apartment would be good –and on the ground,’ I managed to croak. A few moments later my feet were firmly on terra firma again. Before I could say anything – a ‘thank you’ certainly wasn’t one of them – the magic carpet was ascending into the darkening sky once more and, for the first time in what seemed like years, I was finally on my own. Wearily, I dragged myself through the front door and up the stairs to my second floor flat. Fumbling the key in the lock, I pushed the door open and fell into the living room, almost literally as I was so exhausted I could barely stand.
12
Sleigh Belles Ring
I‘d like to say that that’s why I didn’t notice there was someone else in the room as any other reason would reflect badly on my detecting abilities, powers of observation and legendary senses that number above the fifth one. In truth, the room was dark, the curtains were closed, I was so relieved to be home I never thought to turn on the light and the intruder was exceptionally quiet. Until a dark voice said, ‘Mr Pigg, about time; I’ve been waiting quite a while for your return,’ I’d have probably gone straight to bed without any idea there was anyone other than me in the apartment.
With a kind of resigned how-much-worse-can-this-day-get groan, I turned in the direction of the voice. In the gloom I could dimly make out a shape sitting in my favourite chair. From what I could see, whoever it was was slightly taller than me and was either wearing the biggest turban I’d ever seen or was sporting an afro the size of a hedge. He looked like a giant microphone. Then again, maybe I was just imagining it; I was certainly tired enough. ‘Who the hell are you, and why are you sitting in my comfy chair?’
He gave the typical stranger in the apartment reply, ‘My name is not important,’ and followed it, after a brief pause with, ‘and it looked like the most comfortable of your chairs.’ He shifted from side to side. ‘I suffer terribly from piles.’
‘Gee, you have my sympathy; now I’ll ask you again, what are you doing here?’ I’d had a rough few days, was tired, in need of a shower and looking forward to a good night’s sleep; compassion wasn’t high on my current priority list – not even for someone with haemorrhoids.
I didn’t even care if he had a gun, although I couldn’t actually see if he was armed or not. At this stage I just wanted to lie down. In fact, being shot might not be the worst thing that could happen to me just now – at least I wouldn’t have to worry about being flung out of vehicles in mid-air any more. I collapsed on to my sofa. I was too far gone to be concerned.
‘Close the door on your way out, will you, my good man? And if you intend to search my apartment, can you do it quietly although you won’t find anything; I keep all my files in my office.’
‘Relax, Mr Pigg. I’m not going to hurt you. In fact, I may be able to help you in your current case.’
‘Which one?’ I mumbled. ‘At the moment, they’re piling up like dirty plates in Stiltskin’s kitchen.’
‘I’m delighted to hear it,’ said microphone man. ‘But I’m referring to the case of the missing Santa.’
Tiredness rolled off me. Suddenly I was interested. ‘What about Santa? What do you know?’
‘Patience, patience. All in good time.’
‘Look, if you don’t mind I could really dispense with the game playing. It’s late, I’m tired, you’re in my flat uninvited and I don’t have time for this nonsense. If you’ve got something to say, say it now and go.’
‘Very well, here’s what I have to say – and please forgive the nature of my statement. For reasons that I cannot disclose, it must inevitably be of a somewhat cryptic nature.’
I rolled my eyes, someone else speaking in riddles. Great. ‘Go on and then get out.’
‘If you need to find Santa then be aware that time is of the essence in this case,’ the intruder declaimed.
To be quite honest, I was expecting something a bit less obvious and a bit more helpful. ‘Is that it?’ I said. ‘You broke into my apartment to tell me I needed to get a move on? Tell me something I don’t know; something that might actually be of some help. I don’t need you to tell me that tomorrow’s Christmas Eve; I’m already painfully aware of that, thank you very much.’ I wasn’t tired any more – apart from tired of this idiot in my living room.
The intruder stood up. ‘No you misunderstand; time is of the essence here.’ This time he emphasised the word ‘time’. It didn’t really matter, it was still nonsense.
‘OK, that’s it. You’re out of here now. If I need idiotic, pointless statements of the obvious I’ll visit a psychic.’ I pointed at the door.
‘Please, Mr Pigg, I cannot say more. Think about this conversation after you have had some rest. It may make more sense then.’ The intruder headed to the door. ‘Remember, the future of Christmas is at stake here.’
Really? I hadn’t been aware of that either. It was good of him to continue to point these things out, otherwise I might have missed them. I was tired of this. ‘Just go.’
‘Very well,
but consider carefully what I’ve said.’ He walked out and closed the door behind him. He had to turn sideways to fit through.
Time is of the essence, hah! I fell back on the sofa as tiredness made a sneak attack on my recent burst of energy and forced it into an inglorious retreat. Just as I was dropping off, I had the nagging sense that there was something familiar about the intruder’s voice – or maybe it was just my imagination. I didn’t care any more, I just wanted my bed. Struggling to my feet, I stumbled into the bedroom. At first I was so tired I didn’t even notice the low rumbling noise that greeted me when I entered. The aroma in the room, however, jolted me to my senses like a dose of smelling salts had been wafted under my nose.
Had something died in here while I was away, I wondered – and where was that rumbling noise coming from? It sounded like an avalanche was cascading towards me from somewhere. I shook my head to wake myself up and told myself to get a grip. Whatever it was, it was no avalanche.
Through the dim light from the window I could make out a large shape lying on my bed. Further investigation determined that the rumbling noise was emanating from whatever it was. Cautiously I crept towards the bed. As I neared it, the vile smell grew more intense and, accompanying the rumbling noise, I could hear a rhythmic frrppp, frrppp.
All trace of fear evaporated and annoyance took its place. The mysterious noise was the sound of the ex-genie snoring loudly and the other noise was … well, I think you can work it out for yourself.