‘Twas the week after Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring. That would be me, the sleeping creature. Everyone else was stirring. Anyway, the sound of my cell phone going to town interrupted my slumber.
Raising the device to my ear, I mumbled a greeting into the receiver.
“Good morning, Walter,” said the soft voice on the other end.
“Oh, good morning, Julia,” I replied, sitting upright.
“I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No, no, I was wide awake.”
“You’re also lying.”
“That’s correct, detective. You have a merry Christmas?”
“As a matter of fact I did. But someone else wasn’t so lucky. Can you come over to town hall right away?”
“Will there be coffee?”
"Afterwards, yes.”
“Alright, I think I can make that happen.”
“See you then.”
Slipping into a pair of bluejeans and a flannel shirt, I headed down the stairs to the kitchen. The smell of cooking bacon and eggs was nearly irresistible, but I didn’t have time to eat; whatever was going on at town hall was too important to wait.
“Good morning, Walter,” said Ma as I pulled my boots on my feet. “You’re in a hurry.”
“Yep, Julia just called.”
“Oooh!” said my cousin Katherine, raising her eyebrows.
“Not like that!” I growled. “Something’s going down at Town Hall.”
“Want me to keep breakfast warm for you?” asked Aunt Mary.
“Naw. I’ll grab a bite with Julia at the diner. Come on, Conrad!”
With that, Conrad and I went straight for the Jeep and started the engine. Down the highway into the sleepy little town of North Fork we went, parking across the street from the Town Hall. Two sheriffs’ vehicles were parked just outside the hall, a police tape guarded the entrance. Julia lifted up the tape as we entered, her brown eyes sparkling a little brighter when she saw me.
“Good morning, Walter,” she said.
“Good morning, beautiful,” I replied, grinning. I sure was a lucky guy.
“Welcome to the crime scene.”
She led us up to the mayor’s office, where Sheriff Donne, Deputy Wankle and a couple of other folks were doing their due diligence, collecting evidence. Mayor Howard O'Donnell stood nearby, pale as a sheet, answering questions and trying to keep from spilling the contents of his stomach all over the crime scene. He gave me a withering glance as I entered the office.
“Howdy, Walter!” said Deputy Wankle.
“Howdy, Harry!” I replied to the deputy. “What’s new?”
It was a grisly scene to be certain. To describe the slaughter that lay before me would make many a more sensitive soul weak in the knees.
“What the devil?” I asked no one in particular.
“That’s pretty much what I thought,” said Sheriff Donne.
“It- it was my secretary, Ms. Dunham,” said the Mayor, burping as he tried to get the words out. “I came in to work this morning and found her... well... dead.”
“How’d she die?” asked Conrad.
“She’d been cut open at the waist and her guts replaced with straw,” said Harry in a matter of fact fashion. Sometimes I think his nonchalant attitude toward things can be kind of crass. The mayor’s face paled.
“Perchta,” said Conrad. I thought for a moment it was some kind of Creole cuss word.
“Perchta?” I inquired.
“She’s an entity of Germanic lore who comes during the Twelve Days of Christmas, inspecting the homes of all the townsfolk to make sure the wives and servants are working hard.”
“Sheriff, what are these two crackpots doing here?” asked Mayor O’Donnell.
“I brought them in as consultants,” replied the sheriff.
The mayor rolled his eyes. “Fine, just keep an eye on them.”
The mayor has never liked me. He probably thinks I’m a bad influence; like I attract black magic to the town.
“Yep,” said Conrad. “I’d know that dark maternal energy anywhere. It’s Perchta.”
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