willing myself not to lose my grip.
This time, however, my aerial jaunt came to a sudden halt. There was an explosion of white around me as I ploughed into a snowdrift. Unable to maintain my hold, I felt GeorgiePorgie’s feet slip through my arms as he was lifted away. Coughing up snow, I managed to extricate myself from the drift just in time to see him get pulled into a sleigh – reindeer-powered this time – which then accelerated away, leaving me to punch the ground in frustration – which hurt as it was a solid sheet of ice with a thin covering of snow.
Ouch!
What was it he’d said as he was pulled away? I tried to make sense of the snatch of speech I’d heard. It sounded like ‘ken’ or ‘king’ or ‘khan’. At least that’s what I thought he’d said. I didn’t even know if I’d heard him correctly. It could just as easily have been ‘cake’ or ‘keg’. Either way, it made no sense whatsoever.
As I sat there, freezing and coughing up snow, the other two jet skis arrived – fashionably late. After establishing that nothing other than my pride was hurt, I was bundled on to the seat behind Mrs C and we made our way back to base. I clung on to her solid frame, becoming increasingly despondent. Would I ever get a break in this case?
It seemed like someone up there – other than those who flew around in jet-propelled sleighs – was listening and took pity on me in my hour of need. We had no sooner arrived back at Santa’s workshop when Jack rushed out to meet us, waving frantically, clearly excited.
‘Harry, Harry,’ he gasped, ‘it’s the Grimmtown police. They called while you were away. They’ve discovered Santa’s sleigh.’
10
CSI: Grimmtown
‘A s you can see,’ said Detective Inspector Jill of Grimmtown PD, ‘the sleigh doesn’t appear to have crashed. From the impact marks on either side, it does look as if it was forced to land by a person or persons unknown, but they seem to have taken care to ensure that the landing was relatively safe. There is no indication as to what happened to any of the occupants afterwards, but we have found no evidence to suggest that they were injured when the craft went down.’
I could see the relief on Mrs C’s face. Now, at least, she had some hope that her husband might still be alive. I walked over to the yellow tape that cordoned off the area around the sleigh and had a good look. It was just as DI Jill had said: the sleigh itself didn’t look in too bad a condition, the tracks in the ground behind indicated a clean landing, but of the reindeer or Santa there was no sign. I called DI Jill over.
‘Did your forensics guys find anything?’
‘C’mon Harry, you know better than that,’ she said. ‘This is police business. I can’t just pass on confidential information to any Tom, Dick or Harry now, can I?’
‘Maybe not,’ I said, ‘but you owe me one. Who gave you the info that let you break the Little Red Hen case? Me. If it hadn’t been for me, she’d still be out there.’
DI Jill looked at me for a second, considered her options and rolled her eyes skywards. ‘OK, Harry, you win. Forensics haven’t found too much. No fingerprints; nothing we might get a DNA sample from; very little trace evidence. Whoever did this went to inordinate lengths to cover up their tracks.’
I immediately picked up ‘very little trace evidence’. ‘But they did find something?’
Jill said nothing. I could understand that, she could only say so much to me without getting into trouble. On the other hand, the techs might be a different story.
‘Mind if I talk to them?’ I asked Jill.
She sighed heavily – a do-I-really-have-a-choice kind of a sigh – and lifted the tape to allow me under. ‘Why not? They’re nearly done, but they were pretty thorough,’ she said as I passed by.
‘Who’s the lead tech?’ I asked.
‘Crane.’
‘As in he of the bright orange head feathers and meaningful silences?’ In fact, Crane was so
This time, however, my aerial jaunt came to a sudden halt. There was an explosion of white around me as I ploughed into a snowdrift. Unable to maintain my hold, I felt GeorgiePorgie’s feet slip through my arms as he was lifted away. Coughing up snow, I managed to extricate myself from the drift just in time to see him get pulled into a sleigh – reindeer-powered this time – which then accelerated away, leaving me to punch the ground in frustration – which hurt as it was a solid sheet of ice with a thin covering of snow.
Ouch!
What was it he’d said as he was pulled away? I tried to make sense of the snatch of speech I’d heard. It sounded like ‘ken’ or ‘king’ or ‘khan’. At least that’s what I thought he’d said. I didn’t even know if I’d heard him correctly. It could just as easily have been ‘cake’ or ‘keg’. Either way, it made no sense whatsoever.
As I sat there, freezing and coughing up snow, the other two jet skis arrived – fashionably late. After establishing that nothing other than my pride was hurt, I was bundled on to the seat behind Mrs C and we made our way back to base. I clung on to her solid frame, becoming increasingly despondent. Would I ever get a break in this case?
It seemed like someone up there – other than those who flew around in jet-propelled sleighs – was listening and took pity on me in my hour of need. We had no sooner arrived back at Santa’s workshop when Jack rushed out to meet us, waving frantically, clearly excited.
‘Harry, Harry,’ he gasped, ‘it’s the Grimmtown police. They called while you were away. They’ve discovered Santa’s sleigh.’
10
CSI: Grimmtown
‘A s you can see,’ said Detective Inspector Jill of Grimmtown PD, ‘the sleigh doesn’t appear to have crashed. From the impact marks on either side, it does look as if it was forced to land by a person or persons unknown, but they seem to have taken care to ensure that the landing was relatively safe. There is no indication as to what happened to any of the occupants afterwards, but we have found no evidence to suggest that they were injured when the craft went down.’
I could see the relief on Mrs C’s face. Now, at least, she had some hope that her husband might still be alive. I walked over to the yellow tape that cordoned off the area around the sleigh and had a good look. It was just as DI Jill had said: the sleigh itself didn’t look in too bad a condition, the tracks in the ground behind indicated a clean landing, but of the reindeer or Santa there was no sign. I called DI Jill over.
‘Did your forensics guys find anything?’
‘C’mon Harry, you know better than that,’ she said. ‘This is police business. I can’t just pass on confidential information to any Tom, Dick or Harry now, can I?’
‘Maybe not,’ I said, ‘but you owe me one. Who gave you the info that let you break the Little Red Hen case? Me. If it hadn’t been for me, she’d still be out there.’
DI Jill looked at me for a second, considered her options and rolled her eyes skywards. ‘OK, Harry, you win. Forensics haven’t found too much. No fingerprints; nothing we might get a DNA sample from; very little trace evidence. Whoever did this went to inordinate lengths to cover up their tracks.’
I immediately picked up ‘very little trace evidence’. ‘But they did find something?’
Jill said nothing. I could understand that, she could only say so much to me without getting into trouble. On the other hand, the techs might be a different story.
‘Mind if I talk to them?’ I asked Jill.
She sighed heavily – a do-I-really-have-a-choice kind of a sigh – and lifted the tape to allow me under. ‘Why not? They’re nearly done, but they were pretty thorough,’ she said as I passed by.
‘Who’s the lead tech?’ I asked.
‘Crane.’
‘As in he of the bright orange head feathers and meaningful silences?’ In fact, Crane was so
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