|
The Great Cookie Caper The ceiling fan did nothing to cool the sweltering night air. Sitting at my desk, I tried to concentrate on writing the report for the last case I had investigated. By the way, the name's Hutton… Lane Hutton. I'm a private eye. However, the recent case made me wonder if I shouldn't of stayed in the circus where things were more normal. The day it all began went ordinarily enough and I was just going to call it a day, when, with a crack of thunder, a dark stranger entered my office. It wouldn't have even phased me, except there were no storm clouds that day. "May I help you?" I asked nonchalantly. "I'm looking for Mr. Hutton," the mysterious stranger replied. Straightening a stack of papers on my desk, I cleared my throat. "I'm afraid I'm not married, so talking to my husband would be impossible. Unless you know something that I don't? But, if you're looking for a private investigator, well, you've come through the right door." With a touch of disbelief, the man replied, "You're Lane Hutton?" I flashed him my most winning smile. Why was it that people had a difficult time accepting that a woman could be a private eye? I wanted to say "Well, no. You see, I'm really a burglar who broke into this office." But, instead I said, "Yes. And you are?" After all, he could have been a paying customer. Besides, I didn't think of it until just now. "Forgive me, Miss Hutton. I didn't realize. The name is Ellington and I am the butler at Madison Hill. I've come to deliver this." He handed me an envelope with my name inscribed on the outside. Inside was an invitation to a dinner party by the master of the estate, millionaire Thaddeus Welsh. Formal dinner parties were not my bag of chips, but this one intrigued me. Mr. Welsh was a reclusive man, and I welcomed the chance to be one of the few who had ever seen his face. But one thing nagged at me. "Why would Mr. Welsh want me at his party? We have never even spoken over the phone," I asked Ellington suspiciously. "Madam, all I know is that it is very important to the master that you attend… and he warns you to bring your best sleuthing abilities, just in case." And, as suddenly as he appeared, he was gone. "Tell him I'll be there then…" I mumbled under my breath. Dressed in my best duds, I rang the bell. "Glad you could make it," Ellington said as he took my coat. "I didn't think I had much of a choice," I muttered, mostly to myself. "Follow me. The rest of the guests are mingling in the lounge." As I walked behind Ellington, I took in my surroundings. Priceless works of art adorned the walls, and sculptures of every shape and size decorated the hall. It was like being in a gallery or museum. Soon enough we came to the lounge. Ellington announced my arrival and left me to acquaint myself with the six guests: General Pumpkin, Miss Char Treuse, Professor Perry Winkle, Mrs. Mulberry, Sir Ulean, and Ms.Orchid. I felt like a pair of scissors trapped in a box of 64 crayons. Or six crayons, as the case may be. I found out that our esteemed host had not yet appeared and everyone else was just as anxious as I to find out what we were doing here. Then, there was a piercing scream. The crayons…err… guests and I exchanged looks with one another as Ellington came crashing into the room. "Miss Hutton, may I speak with you?" Quickly we stepped out of the room. "I'm afraid that Mr. Welsh's suspicions are confirmed. This has indeed turned into a business encounter after all." He explained to me what had occurred. "See that no one leaves until this case has been solved," I instructed him. Mr. Welsh was a business man who had gotten rich by making cookies. He was most famous for his Loreo's. Apparently, he was throwing this party to unveil his latest creation, except when the cook went to put them on the platter, she found only crumbs. He had known that something like this might occur, for he was trying to figure out who he could trust. I stood at the front of the room, eyeing the guests. They were all suspects. I held up the empty jar. "Who stole the cookies from the cookie jar?" I asked. "That is what I intend to figure out before the night is over. Quite possibly, one of you here, in this room, is a thief." The assembled guests gasped, then began to look at each other with suspicion. They all had a motive. But figuring out which one it was would prove more slippery than a greased pig. General Pumpkin was upset because Mr. Welsh stopped donating money to the military, in order to fund the new cookie project. Miss Char Treuse was a model who had a sweet tooth for cookies, a downfall for anyone in her line of work. She secretly resented Mr. Welsh for what he stood for. Everybody knew that. Professor Perry Winkle was just plain jealous and could have taken the cookies to his lab to be analyzed, so he could make them himself. Mrs. Mulberry was engaged in an illicit affair with the Professor, and it was rumored that Mr. Welsh knew about it and would tell her husband. She could have taken the cookies as a blackmail tool. Sir Ulean was actually Welsh's partner. However, it was rumored that he actually was the mind behind those Geebler Dwarves. Getting his hands on that cookie and releasing it first could make him wealthier than even Welsh. Ms. Orchid wanted to marry Mr. Welsh, but he wouldn't give her the time of day, so involved he was with his ongoing cookie projects. This infuriated Ms. Orchid, and you know what they say about a woman scorned. Yes, I definitely had my work cut out for me with a large cookie cutter. Which one was it? Who had the most to gain? I had it figured out, but I needed proof. I didn't risk revealing anything, thanks to the modest gown I had worn. We all trudged to the kitchen where I searched for clues. That's when I noticed it. "Ummm… Ellington?" "Yes?" "Is that a video camera attached to the wall?" "Yes, it is. Why?" I wanted to strangle him right then and there. Unfortunately, the rope was in the conservatory… Oh, wait, that's a different story. "Would it be possible to see the video tape from earlier today?" I asked through clenched teeth. "Why would you want to view the tape?" Too bad the revolver was in the ballroom… "Let's get me that tape already!" We all sat in the Study while I fast forwarded, looking for anything suspicious. On the tape, someone was approaching the safe where the cookies were kept! I hit play, so it would play at the normal speed. The suspect turned as if to make sure no one was around. It was… "No! It can't be!" Ellington exclaimed. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . It was just as I thought. Mr. Welsh's teenage son, Forest. Apparently, he wanted an after-school snack and knew that his father always kept the best cookies in that safe. Forest didn't realize that these were extra special. And that was it. All that, and I still never even met Mr. Welsh. I wrote the last line of the report and shut the file. Ah, the exciting life of Lane Hutton, private eye. |