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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Mystery
- Subject: Comedy / Humor
- Published: 12/12/2021
The Christmas Detective
Born 1980, M, from Exeter, United Kingdom.jpeg)
The aeroplane circles twice before descending. I take a break from the handwritten notes I am reading about the case and look out the window. Below me on the snow a man waits for me: my client, Santa Claus. We touchdown. I get up from my seat, taking my notes with me, and go down the steps onto the frozen ground of the North Pole. The snow crunches under foot as I make my way across it.
Lucy Stormfront, the pilot, is unloading my luggage from the plane as I walk up to her and say: “Thank you, Lucy.” She smiles at me: “Good luck Sam.” Then raises her hand in greeting to the man on the ice, he raises one back. Lucy then turns and gets back into her plane. I watch her fly away before retrieving my bag, putting it over my shoulder and going to meet Santa. In my mind I am screaming: “I’m going to meet Father Christmas!” but I keep my cool. As I get closer I realise this is not the man I have imagined from Christmas images. He is thin, wearing a heavy white jumper and a black business suit. I say: “It is very nice to meet you Father Christmas, or should I call you Santa?” The man turns to me and waves a hand dismissively: “Please call me Nick, I am only Santa Claus when I am at work. Think of it as my professional name.” I introduce myself: “Sam Carter, Private Investigator. Lucy said you need my help.” Nick replies, shaking my hand warmly: “Mr Carter welcome to the North Pole, how was your flight?” “Long.” I answer, shifting my bag to the other shoulder. “Please call me Sam.”
“You must be cold, it is freezing out here, let’s get inside.”
I followed Nick to his house. As we walk I take note of my surroundings. In between the houses there are market stalls selling a variety of food, drink and seasonal decorations. I read the names: Erik's Butterbeer, Mrs Walter’s cookies and pies, Charly’s hot chocolate and a small café called The Jolly Gingerbread. There are queues at each stall and creatures sitting in the café. When we reach Nick’s home we enter a small room, modestly furnished with a coffee table and two red leather armchairs on either side of a crackling fireplace. I am introduced to Nick’s wife Stephanie, who I assume plays Mrs Claus during the Christmas season, and their baby, Oscar.
“You must be exhausted from your long journey, please sit down,” says Stephanie indicating an armchair. I take a seat. “May I offer you a drink?” asks Nick. I accept gratefully. He leaves the room. When he returns, a few minutes later, he carries three mugs of hot chocolate on a silver tray. He gives one to his wife, one to me and takes one for himself then sits opposite me. Stephanie sits on the floor next to her husband while Oscar plays beside her. We sip our hot chocolate in silence for several minutes, then I inquire: “So, why am I here? Surely you have internal police to deal with matters like this.” Nick leans forward and puts his cup down on the table before replying: “You are quite correct Sam. But since the incident I don’t know who I can trust and you, being an outsider, can be impartial. Also, your credentials come highly recommended.” “What exactly was stolen? Lucy did not give me all the details.” Stephanie answered for her husband: “Nick's livelihood,” she says simply. I give a questioning look and she clarifies: “His sleigh and all his reindeer.” “Can you think of anyone that might want to do this? Have you got any enemies?” I ask. Nick replies: “Who would want to steal from poor old Father Christmas? I need those reindeer back. If I don’t deliver presents to the children of the world they will be disappointed on Christmas morning. Also I won't get paid and if I don’t get paid, how can I provide for my family?” “I will see what I can do and start my investigations in the morning. However, I am quite tired from my journey. Do you know of a hotel nearby where I can get some rest?” Stephanie replies: “We would be more than happy to have you here but, since Oscar arrived, it’s a bit cramped. There’s a hotel called ‘The Christmas Inn’. Nick will drive you.” I finish my hot chocolate and take my leave.
Several minutes later we arrive at the hotel, the interior of which is decorated with Christmas lights. Carols play over the speakers in the lobby. Nick and I walk together up to the front desk. I am a bit taken aback when I see that the receptionist is an Elf, complete with pointy ears and green Christmas hat, but then I remember where I am. I can’t believe I’m here. It's so far out of my comfort zone, but a job’s a job. Nick gives me my room key, I take it, thank him and ride the elevator to the third floor where I find my room and lay on the bed. As I drift off to sleep, my thoughts return to the earlier conversation. Like Nick said, who would want to hurt Father Christmas and why? Then tiredness overcomes me.
The next morning, I take breakfast in the hotel restaurant and try not to stare too long at the staff who, like the receptionist, are Elves. After a delicious breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon, I go back to Nick’s house and begin my investigation. I start by asking if there is any CCTV in the barn. He tells me that since nothing like this has happened to him before, he didn’t think he would need it.
Upon examining the reindeer barn, there was nothing to be found apart from tiny indentations on the ground that look like hoof prints. I question the local residents who seem unwilling to help me, not trusting an outsider. But I persist and as days and weeks pass, they gradually start talking, although they seem to be protecting someone. I cannot determine who. One evening, just when I think my investigation has hit a dead end, I am sitting in my hotel room when the phone rings. I answer. There is a woman’s voice on the other end, she whispers hurriedly: “Mr Carter? I know what happened that night. Meet me at the local cafe at nine.” The line goes dead. Frowning, I prepare to meet my mysterious informant.
Later, I’m sitting in The Jolly Gingerbread. Across from me is an Elf with short yellow hair. She looks nervous as she tells me what happened: “My name is Sarah Rosebud, I work for Santa. I have a young family and was very short on cash. Creditors were at my door almost everyday. It was early December, when the Easter Bunny approached me and offered to clear my debts, in return for a small favour.” “What was the favour?” I inquire. “He offered me a lot of money to leave the door ajar in Santa's barn. I went with Nick that night to check on the reindeer. After he left and was safely in his house, I did as I was told and wedged the barn door open. The next day a large sum of money appeared in my bank account. Enough to clear my debts and get the creditors off my back.” She finishes her story.
I say “Well, Ms Rosebud, thank you for talking so honestly to me. Could you do something for me?” She nods. “Arrange a meeting between me and the Easter Bunny? Say you met me and that I am new in the area and having financial problems.” “Then he will know I told you!” She says, panicked, chewing on her bottom lip. “Calm down Ms, I promise you that you will be protected.” After a lot of discussion, she agrees to help. I sit in my hotel room and wait.
There comes a knock and the door opens. The Easter Bunny hops in. I smile: “Thank you for agreeing to see me.” He sits down on the bed. After explaining my ‘financial difficulties’ he offers me the same sort of deal he offered Sarah. I wonder how many other creatures he has exploited in this way? I ask if he’s heard about Santa’s missing property. To my surprise, he confesses, almost bragging about it: “Yes! I stole Santa’s sleigh and reindeer. Why should he get to ride a magical sleigh with magical reindeer while other creatures such as myself have to walk? I levelled the playing field. Everybody will thank me for what I did. See how far Santa gets having to walk to deliver presents this year!” He laughs. When I say: “You’ll be disappointing a lot of children.” He seems surprisingly dismissive. “What are you going to do about it, Mr Carter?” he replies menacingly. “I could tell the internal police what you did.” “And who do you think they would believe? Me, who spends the winter here? Or an outsider like you? It’s your word against mine.” I smile and say: “It’s you against me and my mobile phone, Mr Bunny!” stopping the recording. “What?!” The Easter Bunny cries. He springs off the bed and tries to escape by hopping out of the window, but I manage to grab his hind leg and he comes crashing to the floor.
By the end of the day, the Easter Bunny is in custody. Nick’s property is returned and I tell him and Stephanie the details of what happened that night. They can’t thank me enough for what I’ve done. “You’ve saved Christmas, Mr Carter. Are you going to arrest Sarah Rosebud?” they ask. “No, she was the unfortunate pawn in the Easter Bunny’s evil scheme, but her moral compass led us to him.”
We say our goodbyes. They shake me warmly by the hand and say: “If you’re ever in the area again, please pay us a visit.” I turn and leave Nick and Stephanie. I ring Lucy Stormfront and a few hours later I am back on her plane heading home, thinking that was one of the strangest cases I have ever solved and that I need a warm bath. But despite its peculiarity, it was memorable. Afterall, it’s not everyday you get to spend time with the residents of the North Pole.
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