The Ho Ho Ho Mystery (10 page)

W
e left the office, tramped down the stairs (somewhat reluctantly, it has to be said) and got into the car. As we drove to the Cauldron, I could sense the unease in the other two. It was hard to blame them; I wasn’t really sure what I was going to do myself. I didn’t really expect them to have Santa trussed up in the front row of the auditorium, but if the guy we’d chased at the airport saw me he might panic and do something stupid. Then again, he might just beat the living daylights out of me – and I didn’t think my ‘minder’ would do much by way of minding. I suspect his concept of minding in that instance would be running for the door as fast as he could. Ho hum.

The Cauldron itself was an auditorium that looked like a giant cauldron turned on its side. It stood on a hill overlooking the city and was the venue
du jour
for Grimmtown’s musical set. It had recently seen concerts by
Hubbard’s Cubbard, Peter Piper and the Magic Harp Rock Ensemble. Tonight, as we were advised by every billboard on the way, it was hosting ‘An Evening of Classical and Jazz Fusion by the Experimental Quartet Olé “King” Kohl and his Fiddlers Three’. That sounded nasty. In musical terms the word fusion always suggested a number of musicians all playing completely different tunes at the same time with their eyes shut, nodding their heads knowingly all the while. The audience, baffled by what was going on on stage, would shout phrases like ‘nice’, ‘cool’, ‘look at those hip cats go’ and even an occasional ‘groovy’ (the Grimmtown musical cognoscenti were just as pretentious and anachronistic as their counterparts everywhere else).

It just made my ears bleed.

Already crowds were arriving for the Fiddlers’ Christmas Eve recital. Had they really nothing better to do with their time on this particular night? Either that or Kohl and the boys were more popular than I thought – or expected. As we pulled into the car park, Mrs C asked a very obvious question – and one that I’d completely failed to consider. ‘How are we going to get in? Do you have tickets for this gig?’

‘It won’t be a problem,’ I replied, though it was distinctly possible it might be a very big problem. If the crowds were anything to go by, this was a sell-out so getting in might be a tad on the difficult side.

We pushed our way through the crowds, trying to get closer to the door. Two huge figures were checking all the tickets. There would be no way past them – or would there? If I wasn’t mistaken, the ticket collectors were my two friends, Lewis and Carroll. They’d certainly deter anyone from trying to get in with a forged ticket or without any ticket at all – unless of course that person was me.

‘Stick close,’ I whispered. ‘We might have a way in after all.’ I pushed my way through the throng towards the ticket check, with Mrs C and Basili close behind. They were much better pushers than I was so I skilfully fell behind them and let them do the dirty work. It was like the parting of a human Red Sea; people just disappeared in front of them as they man-(or woman-) handled their way through, clearing out bodies like a flamethrower through a field of snowmen. Getting to the front of the line was easy after that.

Mr Lewis took one look at me and rolled his eyes upwards and gave me an ‘I didn’t peg you as a jazz buff’ look (Mr Lewis was a man of few words).

‘I’m not,’ I replied. ‘But I’m on a case and need to see Kohl as soon as possible.’

Mr Lewis raised an eyebrow in an ‘I suppose tickets are out of the question in this instance’ expression.

‘You know me too well and I really need to get inside.’

Seconds later we were running through the Cauldron’s huge lobby, searching for a way backstage. If Kohl was anywhere, he’d be back there getting ready. Everywhere I
looked all I could see were doors leading to the auditorium proper; upper stalls, lower stalls, balcony, dress circle. There was no way I’d ever wear a dress just to get a good seat.

I spotted a nervous-looking usher and made a beeline for him. ‘How do I get backstage?’

‘Um, Mr Kohl doesn’t like to be disturbed before he goes on stage. He’s very particular about that,’ stammered the usher, clearly intimidated by my friends.

‘Well, I need to disturb him now and if I don’t find a way backstage quickly my associates may very well set about disturbing you.’

The usher pointed to a passageway, partially hidden by a velvet curtain. ‘D … d … down that way.’

‘You are most helpful,’ I said as we brushed him aside and headed down the passageway. ‘Please don’t let me find out you warned him we were coming.’

‘N … n … never crossed m … my mind,’ the usher replied.

‘In that case don’t ask your face to be a corroborating witness,’ I said. ‘It mightn’t hold up under questioning.’

The passageway led to a dimly lit corridor running the length of the backstage area. On one side were a series of doors, each with a large star in the centre. The first few were blank, but the fourth had ‘Mr Kohl and Band’ scrawled across it.

‘We’re here,’ I whispered to the others.

‘Great,’ Mrs C whispered back. ‘Now what do we do?’

‘Well, let me listen for a moment, see if I can make out who’s inside.’ Carefully I put my ear to the door and tried to hear what was going on inside. It wasn’t difficult; Kohl had a very loud voice.

‘We wait until everyone’s settled, play a few of the standards and when they’re getting into it Santa can do his stuff. Once everything stops we make our way through the audience, relieve them of their valuables and get back on the stage. It’s the perfect crime and we’ll have the perfect alibi. It’s foolproof, I tell you.’

‘And what about Santa?’ asked another voice. ‘He wasn’t too easy to persuade last time. What makes you think he’ll cooperate again?’

‘As long as he thinks we’ll let him free in time for Christmas, he’ll reluctantly play ball. By the time he finds out I intend to hold on to him, it will be far too late. After that we’ll have to find more effective means to ensure his help.’

It was the perfect crime. Looked like we were just in time. If what they were saying was to be believed, Santa was just beyond the door.

I turned to the others and repeated what I’d just heard. ‘Just give me a few minutes to come up with a plan.’

Mrs C pushed me aside. ‘Plan be damned, I’m going in there,’ and before I could stop her she’d flung the door open and barged into the room shouting, ‘Santa, where are you? It’s me, Clarissa.’ Whatever that woman had in terms
of devotion to her husband was more than compensated for by her lack of subtlety – and this lack of subtlety had put paid to any chance of a surprise. No sooner had she burst into the room than two of Kohl’s Fiddlers Three had grabbed her and flung her back at us. As we fell in a heap like a bunch of oversized skittles, the third grabbed a large red shape that had been lying in the corner, threw it over his shoulder and made for the door with the rest of the band in close pursuit.

‘Stop them, they’re getting away,’ shouted Mrs C at me.

‘I’d love to,’ I groaned, ‘but I should point out that it’s difficult just at the moment as you’re lying on top of me.’

‘Oops, sorry.’ She rolled to one side and I sprang (well, struggled) to my feet, dusted myself down and raced down the corridor after them. Considering they had to carry a large body, they were certainly making good progress as there was no sign of them ahead of me.

I burst through a fire door at the end of the corridor and heard them disappear up the stairs in front of me. Stairs; good, that would slow them down a bit. Above me I could hear scuffling as their cargo finally began to weigh heavily on them. I knew I’d never be able to take them on all on my own, but if Jack had managed to deliver his message, well then things might just work out after all.

I’d like to say I raced up the stairs after Kohl, but I’d be lying, or exaggerating at the very least. I was still winded after Mrs C had landed on me and I was also being extra careful to avoid being jumped on by any – or all – of the Fiddlers
Three. This meant that by the time I got to the top of the stairs and out on to the roof of the Cauldron, I was just in time to hear the screaming noise I’d become oh so familiar with recently as Kohl and the boys took off in their private jet sleigh, waving rudely out of the window at me and leaving me standing on the roof watching as they disappeared into the darkening sky.

Or so they thought.

They had barely disappeared from view when I heard a voice from above. ‘Harry, are you OK?’

A magic carpet flew down and hovered beside me, Jack peering down over the edge.

‘I’m fine, Jack,’ I replied. ‘Now shift over and give me some room.’ I climbed on to the carpet and nodded at Ali Baba. ‘You got my message then?’

‘Your man was most persuasive.’ He waved at the sky. ‘Are those the people who framed me for the robbery?’

‘They most certainly are, but I haven’t really time to explain right now.’ I fastened the Velcro strip I’d been handed onto my behind and made sure I was stuck to the carpet. I pointed in the direction the jet sleigh had taken. ‘I’ve always wanted to say this: follow that sleigh.’

Instantly the magic carpet lurched forward and we were about to ascend when there was a shout from below. ‘Wait for us.’ Basili and Mrs C had finally made their way to the roof, just in time to slow us down.

‘Do we wait for them?’ asked Ali Baba, looking down at them doubtfully.

‘We don’t have a choice, I think,’ I said. ‘It’s her husband who’s behind all this, so the least we can do is take her with us.’

‘Very well,’ sighed Ali Baba and indicated for the carpet to stop. Seconds later both Basili and Mrs C had scrambled aboard and the carpet dropped significantly in the air. ‘Not good,’ I heard Ali Baba mutter under his breath but at least he didn’t threaten to push them off again.

Much more slowly this time, the magic carpet ascended into the evening sky and sped after the sleigh. I could just make it out ahead of us, flying back towards the city.

‘Quick, we need to catch them before they land,’ I shouted pointing at the sleigh.

‘That may be easier said than done,’ said Ali Baba as his driver tried to urge as much speed as he could out of his cloth vehicle.

Slowly we began to pick up speed but I wasn’t sure it would be enough. The sleigh didn’t seem to be getting any closer.

‘We’re not going to catch them, are we?’ said a plaintive voice from beside me. ‘And it’s all my fault.’ Mrs C burst into tears once more.

I tried to comfort her (I seemed to spend my time comforting her). ‘Don’t worry, Ali Baba is a very resourceful man. I’m sure he’s working on something even as I speak.’

As if he could hear me from the back of the carpet, Ali Baba said, ‘We’re not going to catch them. I am sorry, Harry; we are just carrying too much weight.’ This provoked a new flood of tears from Mrs C, and it certainly wasn’t what I’d hoped he was going to say.

‘Perhaps I might be of some assistance,’ said a voice from somewhere on my left. As I was sitting on the leftmost edge of the magic carpet it was fair to say that this was something I hadn’t expected. As I looked around we were bathed in a bright red light and I looked straight into the eyes of Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer.

‘What in the name of blazes are you doing here?’ I asked.

‘Clarissa thought I might be of help, so I got here as quickly as I could,’ he replied.

‘What, you think you might be able to pull us along, do you?’ I wasn’t sure exactly how this arrogant animal could be of any use whatsoever bearing in mind our last meeting so I didn’t want to waste my time on him.

‘Don’t be ludicrous, my dear pig. I see no point in pulling this particular craft.’ Rudolph was confirming my suspicions all the while but then, just when I figured all he was going to do was to give us vocal encouragement, he surprised me. ‘But I might be able to carry a passenger on my back.’

‘If you do, do you think you can catch them?’ I asked.

‘What do you think I do for a living every Christmas Eve? Of course I can catch them. Now are you going to hop on or not?’

Was he talking to me? He was certainly looking at me. Why was it always me that got asked these questions? Was I really seen as some kind of superhero? Everyone on the magic carpet was looking at me too – most of them with ‘I’m glad I wasn’t asked’ expressions on their faces.

With a resigned groan I peeled off the Velcro and stood up. ‘OK, Rudolph, I guess it’s up to you and me now. Get close to the carpet so I can climb on your back without falling off.’

Rudolph taxied in and flew parallel to the carpet. Ever so carefully I stepped off the ornate material and on to Rudolph’s back. As I did so, he turned his head and whispered, ‘This never happened, is that clear? Under no circumstances should anyone ever find out I did this. It’s so humiliating.’

Clinging tightly to his neck, I whispered back, ‘Heigh-ho, Rudolph, away.’

I
‘ll give Rudolph credit for one thing: he was fast. In a matter of seconds he’d left the magic carpet far behind and was speeding over Grimmtown in hot pursuit of Kohl. I suppose speed was of the essence if you had to get around the world delivering presents over the course of one night, time being stopped or not. The drawback with this incredible burst of speed was that he had me on his back and I had nothing to hold on to by way of saddle or reins. It meant I had to get closer to Rudolph than I would have wished; wrapping my arms tightly around his neck and pressing my legs firmly against his body. With the wind threatening to drag me off and throw me away, trust me, I was clinging on with whatever bits of my body I could use. At least Rudolph smelled nice. I’d expected something mangy and pungent, but, considering how he’d been when I’d first
met him, I shouldn’t have been surprised that he exuded a scent of aromatic oils and expensive cosmetics.

Rudolph must have felt my panic – then again my legs were probably on the point of crushing his ribs so it wasn’t too hard to miss. ‘I don’t suppose you could relax a little? You’re not making this very easy for me,’ he asked.

‘Believe me, from where I’m sitting it’s not too much fun for me either, but don’t take it personally; it’s not like we’re engaged or anything.’

All I got in return was an indignant snort, but I did try to relax my vice-like grip a little – but only a little. From where I sat, it was a long trip to the ground and there were no return tickets if I slipped off.

Rudolph wove in and out through Grimmtown’s sky-scrapers like a supersonic bee in a flower garden, always keeping the sleigh in his sights. As far as I could make out we were beginning to gain on it – not that I spent too much time looking; mostly my head was buried in Rudolph’s neck.

I leaned forward towards Rudolph’s head once more. ‘Are we there yet?’

‘We’re catching up. Whatever you’ve planned, be ready to do it shortly.’

Now that we were getting closer I realised that I hadn’t really thought through what I was going to do next. Even if we did catch up with the sleigh, we were still hundreds of feet above the ground and lacking in certain key accessories: namely a parachute, a weapon of some sort, a way into the
sleigh and, most importantly, a soft landing should things go wrong. Looked like once more I’d be making it up as I went along, only this time I couldn’t afford to make any mistakes – at least not if I didn’t want to spend yet more time doing some unforced mid-air acrobatics.

I took a quick glance ahead; we were slightly behind and just above Kohl’s sleigh. Rudolph had done fantastically well to catch up.

From above there didn’t seem like there was any way into it – not that I suspected there’d be an easy way in regardless of what angle we approached it.

‘Take us down beside it,’ I ordered. ‘I need to take a closer look.’

Rudolph obliged and flew parallel to the craft. There was a door in the side, but I wasn’t sure I’d be able – or even wanted – to try to do a mid-air reindeer to sleigh transfer and open that door from the outside. Scratch that. There was only one option left.

‘Let’s have a look at what’s underneath.’

Seconds later we were looking up at the undercarriage This one was different from the others I’d seen in that it looked to have landing gear as opposed to skis.

‘That’s because it’s geared for urban flying rather than polar,’ Rudolph advised. ‘They’re becoming very popular with Grimmtown’s rich set.’

‘No doubt,’ I replied, scanning the underside of the craft carefully. Like all the other sides there didn’t seem to be
any obvious entry point. The wheels nestled snugly against the surface and didn’t offer any way in – not that I was prepared to try that particular route; I wasn’t a slim pig and I don’t think I’d have managed to squeeze through. I didn’t even want to contemplate what would happen if the wheels suddenly came down while I was clambering over them. The beginnings of a plan were forming in my head, but I had to find a way in in order to make it work. If they managed to get back on to the ground I’d be sunk.

I was just about to order Rudolph away from the sleigh and have a rethink when I saw a small handle nestling snugly against the sleigh’s underbelly. Urging Rudolph closer, I had a better look. It seemed to provide access to some sort of undercarriage maintenance area. If there was a way in, there just might be a way up into the sleigh proper.

‘I’m going to try to open that hatch,’ I told Rudolph. ‘Keep an eye on me when it swings out. The last thing I need right now is some freefall training.’

Rudolph nodded and rose up against the hatch. I grabbed the handle, twisted it and pulled. The door swung down, revealing … well, um, a dark space actually. Without a torch I had no way of seeing what was in there. Oh well, why would this be any different from any other time?

Now came the tricky bit. As carefully as I could, I pushed myself on to my knees and then stood on Rudolph’s back. ‘Whatever you do, don’t wobble or suddenly decide to fly away, OK?’ I told him. I slowly reached up, grabbed the
edge of the hatch and, with Rudolph’s help, climbed into the darkness. ‘Do me a favour and stick your head in here,’ I shouted down to him. Seconds later, he poked his head in and the area was illuminated by a red light. Who needs a torch when you’ve a red-nosed reindeer?

The maintenance area itself was small and just allowed a mechanic access to the landing gear. There wasn’t even room to stand up but once I was inside and crouching I saw another hatch in the roof above me. Figuring that this might open out into the sleigh proper, I cracked it open and peered through the narrow slit. I could hear laughing from the cabin above. Clearly Kohl and the boys figured they were home and hosed. All I could see through the crack were the band members’ feet – and they did have very nice shoes indeed – but I imagined the rest of the band were attached to them too, so jumping into the cabin and attempting a rescue was probably out of the question unless …

I poked my head back down and called to Rudolph. ‘Count to twenty and then cause a diversion.’

‘Whatever do you mean? What kind of diversion? I’m Santa’s lead reindeer you know, not some sort of performing animal,’ a highly indignant Rudolph replied.

‘Well, if you want to hold on to that job then you need to do something to distract the people in this sleigh so I can rescue Santa. Do I make myself clear?’

Rudolph nodded. ‘Absolutely.’

‘Good, start counting now.’ Rudolph disappeared from view and began to count. I hoped he’d come up with something that would attract the attention of everyone in the sleigh otherwise it would the worst rescue in the history of bad rescues.

Seventeen … eighteen … nineteen … twenty. I cracked open the hatch once more and waited. It wasn’t a long wait. I’d barely finished the count when I heard excited shouts from above.

‘Hey, what’s that flying in front of us?’ said a voice.

‘Dunno, it looks like a big dog,’ said another. I sincerely hoped Rudolph couldn’t hear; I wasn’t sure quite how his ego would take that remark.

‘Now what’s he doing?’ Whatever it was I hoped it was going to be good.

‘Hey, guys, come take at look at this.’

This was followed by the sound of fading footsteps as what I hoped was every member of King Kohl and his Fiddlers Three charged up front for a look.

I pushed up the hatch, clambered into the cabin and looked around. I was instantly drawn to the red shape slumped in the corner.

Santa – and he was unguarded. I ran over to him and shook him. ‘Santa, wake up.’ There was no reaction. I slapped him gently on the face – still nothing.

There was a shocked voice from the cockpit. ‘Oh no, he cannot be serious.’

This was followed by, ‘There’s no way he’s going to do that.’

‘Oh my God, he is.’

‘That’s disgusting,’ and finally, ‘It’s going to hit, taking evasive action.’

Then the plane lurched sideways. Wow, whatever Rudolph was doing, it was certainly working. All I had to do now was wake Santa up and I could put the last piece of my plan into action. The plane bucked wildly again and I was flung across the cabin. Seconds later a still unconscious Santa fell on top of me.

Panic reigned in the cockpit. ‘I can’t see a thing; the whole window is covered in poo. It’s like tar. What did that dog have for lunch and how the hell are we going to get it off?’

I pushed Santa off me and shook him once more. He mumbled something incomprehensible and slowly opened his eyes.

‘Aren’t you a little short to be a member of Fiddlers Three?’ he slurred.

‘I’m Harry Pigg and I’ve come to rescue you.’ ‘You’re who?’

‘I’m Harry Pigg,’ I repeated. ‘Your wife sent me. I’m here with Rudolph.’

Comprehension began to register in Santa’s befuddled brain. ‘Rudolph, where is he?’

‘He’s outside, come on.’ I pulled Santa to his feet and draped his arm over my shoulder. Slowly I dragged him
across to the hatch and, yes I’m ashamed to admit it, I just dropped him in. Seconds later, I fell in beside him and pulled the hatch shut.

‘Now what?’ asked Santa.

‘Now we wait for your pal to come back, which should be any second now.’

No sooner had I spoken that we were immersed in a red glow once more. ‘Under no circumstances is anyone ever to know what I did to divert those people, understood?’ said a somewhat shamefaced Rudolph.

‘My lips are sealed,’ I said with a smirk. ‘Now,’ I turned to Santa, ‘how does this stopping time trick of yours work?’

‘You know about that?’ said Santa indignantly. ‘How did you find out?’

‘I’m a detective, it’s what I do,’ I said, and then as an afterthought, ‘trust me, your people didn’t tell me; I worked it out for myself.’

Santa gave me a disbelieving look but, after a few seconds’ consideration, let it slide – at least for the moment. ‘Here’s how it works: you have to be touching me so you won’t be affected when everything stops then all I do is—’

There was a pounding noise from above. Santa’s disappearance had been discovered. We didn’t have much time. I grabbed Santa by the hand and held on to Rudolph’s nose with my other trotter. The reindeer gave an indignant squeal. ‘Now would be a good time, Santa,’ I said, raising my
eyes to the commotion above. Santa nodded once to show he understood and closed his eyes.

The hatch was ripped open and tuxedo bedecked arms stretched in, trying to grab us.

‘Right now would be even better,’ I squealed as hands scrabbled at my head.

Almost immediately the noise from above stopped. Santa opened his eyes once more. ‘That’s it,’ he smiled.

‘That’s it?’ I said. ‘You just close your eyes and, hey presto, time stops?’

‘I’ve had hundreds of years of practice,’ Santa replied. ‘Mind you it’s not quite as easy as it looks. Now I really think we should be going.’

‘No argument from me.’ I hopped on to Rudolph’s back and helped Santa on in front of me. ‘I couldn’t agree more.’

Seconds later we dropped out of the hatch and flew back in the direction of the City once more.

It was an eerie sensation, flying through the night when everything around us had stopped dead still. Kohl’s sleigh hung suspended in the sky like a giant Christmas tree ornament and all around us everything was silent. Below, the lights of Grimmtown’s evening traffic were unmoving. The landscape looked like a giant version of Santa’s house.

Once we were far enough away from the sleigh I said to Santa, ‘I think we’re OK now.’ There was a rush of air and suddenly we were surrounded by the noise of the traffic below, the wind whistling around our faces and the distant
screaming of Kohl’s jet sleigh as it staggered through the sky while the passengers tried to figure out some way of clearing the poo from the cockpit windows before it crashed – and no doubt trying to figure out exactly where we’d disappeared to.

‘Not long now,’ I shouted at Santa, trying to make myself heard over the buffeting wind.

Santa turned back to reply and was about to say something when his face dropped. ‘I’m not so sure about that,’ he said pointing back over my shoulder, concern visible on his face. I swung around and saw Kohl’s jet sleigh bearing down on us. Through a smeared windscreen I could see the pilot grinning as the aircraft rapidly closed the distance between us.

‘Rudolph,’ I roared, ‘you need to get a move on. They’re right behind us.’

‘I’ll do my best,’ Rudolph puffed. ‘But my load is somewhat heavier now; I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to keep it up.’

‘Just do your best, I’ll think of something.’ Though I wasn’t quite sure what. This time there didn’t seem to be an obvious way out. Kohl’s sleigh was just too big and too fast. I remembered the damage the other one had done to our sleigh on the way to the North Pole, so I didn’t think one Santa, one reindeer and an – admittedly brilliant – pig detective would offer much by way of resistance if they chose to ram us, which I reckoned would be any second now.

It was obvious that Rudolph was tiring. His flight pattern was becoming more erratic and he was beginning to wheeze.
All the while our pursuers were chewing up the distance between us. I looked behind me once more. They were right on top of us. This was it – we were going to die. They were so close I could see Kohl in the cockpit mouthing ‘I have you now’ at me.

There was a sudden blur of movement and something flew in between us and the sleigh. Caught by surprise, the pilot spun away wildly, careening out of control into the sky above.

What had happened? I looked around and then heard Jack Horner’s voice from underneath us, ‘Woohoo, you’re all clear, Harry. Now let’s drop Santa off and wrap this thing up.’

I looked down and saw Ali Baba’s carpet flying along below us. A smiling Jack gave me a thumbs up and a very relieved-looking Mrs C applauded wildly.

‘Thank you,’ she mouthed and I gave a small bow in acknowledgement and almost fell off Rudolph as a consequence.

Note to self
: never try flashy gestures when balancing on the back of a tiring reindeer several hundred feet above the ground.