The Needlehole Mysteries

The Mystery of Mister Figg

Part 2


Forumshire had only a few ports. They had been hastily constructed during the migration but were gradually expanded and improved in the years since. The oldest and largest port was Admunholm. This was the spot at which the Glorious Admin had led the refugees of legend to their promised land. Presently, Admunholm was inhabited mostly by seafarers and the few Forumshiran merchants whose business extended across borders.

Most Forumhobbits were happy to to mind their own business and were mostly self-sufficient, but some of them traveled and traded with other peoples across the sea. Soon enough, the flag of Forumshire flew proud on ships from Skattykatzenfjord to Ozhobbitstan.

Unfortunately, the result of this boom in sea trade was a corresponding boom in piracy. Perhaps buoyed by the Admin's Free Spirit's policy, many sailors of the unsavory type frequented the pubs and markets of Admunholm. All tried to emulate the fiercest of all pirates, the legendary Captain Orwell McOdo.

Orwell had been a pillager for decades and became so fabulously wealthy that he eventually retired to his own private island in the Caribbean. He passed on his business to his soon, Orwell McOdo II, who was almost as fierce and legendary as the original. Orwell II expanded the family business and amassed a fortune to rival that of his father.

The present-day Captain, being the third of his name, had yet to gain his fortune. In fact, Orwell McOdo III was so timid and ineffectual in comparison to his father and grandfather that he was commonly known by other pirates as Lil 'Welly, though they were considerate enough to not say this to his face. Despite Orwell III's best efforts, the McOdo name still commanded a measure of respect in certain circles.


“Are we there yet?” grumbled Sgt. Herring. The strench of rotting fish and unwashed Hobbit emanated from every building they passed, inhabited or otherwise, and was quite overwhelming.

“Nearly,” said DI Eldo. “Captain Orwell's ship will be docked at the pier closest to the mouth of Admunholm Bay. It used to be set aside as a sign of respect for the mightiest sailors in Forumshire.”

“Used to be?” said Sgt. Herring.

“Well, these days it's more commonly said to be set aside for the Captain with the most disproportionately skilled parents, but that's neither here nor there.” The DI coughed. “I have it on solid advice that Orwell is as fine a sea captain is to be found in this land.”

“Wonderful,” said Sgt. Herring, rolling his eyes. “I bet this Orwell character wouldn't last one night during a Fjordlandian storm. We have real sailors up there.”

“That's what you get for living in a glacial wasteland where it is impossible to travel by land,” said DI Eldo a little snappily. The smell was getting to him as well and he didn't like being second-guessed in front of their foreign guest.

Agent Nora had, however, remained silent for the most part. She seemed content to observe and listen to the Forumshiran policehobbits. Occasionally she would write in what appeared to be a journal or ask a question about their investigations in Needlehole, but all in all she didn't seem to be one for small talk.

“Aha, here we are, just as I said!” said DI Eldo, gesturing at the splendid-looking three-mast ship in front of them. All manner of sea-Hobbits were running about the deck, apparently preparing to set sail. DI Eldo hailed the nearest sailor and asked to speak to the captain. Soon, a luxuriously-dressed Hobbit in an oversized sea captain's hat came down one of the walkways off the ship.

“Hello, Captain Orwell McOdo III?” asked DI Eldo. “I am Detective Inspector Eldorion of Needlehole, I was referred to your service by Odo Banks. I believe you know him.”

“Yes, of course!” Captain Orwell said grandly. “Detective Inspector, how good to meet you. And your companions! It is my pleasure, Ms … ?” He leaned down to kiss Agent Nora's hand.

“Agent Nora Herring of Bree-land,” she said in a tone indicating that she was unimpressed. “Can this wooden cow of yours actually sail? I've seen barns that are smaller.”

Orwell looked hurt. “Of course she can float, Madam! She'll do better than that. This is the Sweet Louise of Saint Trapeze, ship of my father and grandfather, famed and feared across the seven seas!”

Agent Nora stared at the ship for a moment before turning to Orwell with a fiery glare. “I know that name!” she said with some vitriol. “The Sweet Louise of Saint Trapeze? I didn't recognize your name at first but I do now, Orwell McOdo! You're that Dane-befriending stealer of Fjordlandian women, aren't you?” She stepped forward and pointed at the captain fiercely.

Shock and fear flitted over Orwell's face and he backed away quickly. “No, no, you must be confused!” he said in a panic. It's my grandfather who stole women from all sorts of countries (not just Fjordlandia). And quite a tidy profit he made from it too!” For a second Orwell's gleeful, self-satisfied expression returned, but only for a second. “Alas, my biggest money-maker is bringing whale oil to Scotshobbiton in the winter.”

“Let's be fair, hunting whales is pretty badass,” said Sgt. Herring. “And it might be a primitive, barbaric thing to do, but at least it's better than kidnapping, so no need to be ashamed!”

“Hunting whales?” said Orwell incredulously. “Surely you can't be serious.” He laughed nervously. “No, I just pick up the oil and then sail to its destination. All very ho-hum but it pays the bills, you know? We can't all be heroes,” he finished dramatically.

Agent Nora snorted. “You're an idiot,” she said. “There has to be someone else who can take us to Bree-land,” she continued, turning to the DI. “No way is this idiot the only one.”

“Sure, if you want to pay through the nose for a ferry ticket,” said DI Eldo shrugging. “But Odo said that he was sure Orwell would give us a very reasonable discount.”

“What?!” spluttered Orwell. “Why on earth would he say such a preposterous thing?”

“Something about us being police and you not wanting us to search the hold,” said DI Eldo with a smug grin. He stepped forward and whispered in the captain's ear. Sgt. Herring and Agent Nora watched with interest as the color drained from Orwell's face and he began to tremble violently.

“All right! All right!” he cried. “You can come along half-off.” He blanched at the DI's stare. “75% off and that's my final offer!” he said clinging to the scraps of his dignity.

“Done,” said DI Eldo. They shook hands. “Take us aboard, captain. I trust you have some food without maggots.”


The crew of the Sweet Louise of Saint Trapeze was almost ready to set sail before the policehobbits arrived, so they were very soon casting off from the docks of Admunholm. “I believe the lovely lady said you were going to Bree-land,” said Captain Orwell with a flirtatious wink to Nora. He had briefly retired to his cabin and when he emerged seemed to have regained most of his swagger and ego.

Nora glared at the captain and muttered “You're an idiot.” She patted the pocket crossbow at her belt. Orwell seemed not to take the warning and began to prattle on about his numerous adventures before DI Eldo cut in.

“Yes, Bree-land!” he said loudly. “I assume you've sailed there before.”

“I've sailed everywhere and I can take you anywhere,” said Orwell with a hint of disappointment as Agent Nora stalked away. “Except the Dark Planet, that is,” he finished hurriedly.

“Why not the Dark Planet?” asked Sgt. Herring, who had wandered over.

“I was banished from there,” whined Orwell. “Forbidden from ever returning by the horrid evil tyrant Dark Lord Taz.”

“What did you do?” said Sgt. Herring with little sympathy for the dandy.

“I may have called Taz a dirty evil tyrant in public,” said Orwell without a trace of embarrassment. “And also the Dark Council that rules the Dark Planet, and some of their citizens. They said I was distributing libelous pamphlets too but that was actually Pretty Tyrant and the Daily Purist.”

“Mmhm,” said Sgt. Herring, unconvinced. “That's all?”

“I know!” said Orwell. “Apparently that's worth banishment. Can't you see the injustice of it?”

“Of course we can,” said a bored DI Eldo. “Who wouldn't be horrified at the thought of being unable to suffer under the thumb of a dictator? How long does it take to reach Bree-land?”

“About two days, if the wind is at your back,” said Orwell. “Fortunately for us the wind from the western sea is quite strong now so we'll make good time.”

“Excellent,” said the DI. “Our business shouldn't take more than a day. Would you be able to stick around and bring us back as well?”

Orwell looked uncomfortable. “Er, I'm afraid I can't really do that,” he mumbled. Clearing his throat, he continued. “Lots to do, you know. Spring will be here soon and I can't fall behind on my shipments or the competition will bury me.”

“I understand. We'll find some other ship to bring us home,” said DI Eldo. Orwell nodded and hurried off without another word. “What a strange Hobbit,” mused DI Eldo. “So pompous.”


The Sweet Louise of Saint Trapeze made landfall at Bree-land early in the morning after two nights at sea. Orwell fidgeted incessantly while the ship was in the Bree-land harbor and hurried his passengers off the ship as quickly as possible.

“Safe travels!” Sgt. Herring called to the ship as it pulled away from the dock.

“What an idiot that Orwell was,” said Agent Nora. “It's so good to be back home!”

“Where to now, then?” asked DI Eldo.

“To the headquarters of Bree-land Intelligence,” said Agent Nora. “We're ahead of schedule but there's no sense in squandering that time. You can do all the touristy crap later.”

“Great, I've been itching to be debriefed,” snickered Sgt. Herring.

Agent Nora cast him a disapproving glance. “I may be fairly laid-back, as you Forumhobbit types tend to be, but at least try to act professional when you're talking to my boss, would you?”

“Of course,” said DI Eldo. “We're all professionals here. Lead the way.”

Oh that was brilliant!

Great! love it! love the little bit of tension tere xD :I

If I wasn't debillitated by laughter just now, and if this wasn't obviously some alternate Forumshire (I am, of course, the Seventh of my line in THIS Foumshire! ), I'd have to kill you, Eldorion! I would!


{{{Petty, I fear young Eldo has borrowed some of my methods, improved on them dramatically, then added his own fresh and bubbling ideas; in fact, he has left me to eat his dust... I think it's time you were Admin and young Eldo was dealt with once and for all... You bring your Scotsclobberer and I'll bring the sack... }}}

Thats what you get for leading by example Orwell- you should take a leaf out the Tyrant book and remain firmly at the back.

Pettytyrant101 wrote:Thats what you get for leading by example Orwell- you should take a leaf out the Tyrant book and remain firmly at the back.

I don't mind having an 'ínfluence'- but does he have to surpass me so effortlessly? It's an outrage!

Anon Author (not Orwell).

I can read through all this confusion! Orwell - you're the Anon Author aren't you! I knew it!

No, I deny it - fervently!

Oh if you say so, you can't be. My apologies, Orwell. That clears things up.

Agent Nora should get her own spin-off series.

Thank you very much, everyone! I'll do my best to be a little more regular in posting updates here. I think I'm getting back into a writing groove after a rather up-and-down week. This is the Super Bowl Weekend, though, so as an American (and a football fan) I have to do my patriotic duty and watch.

Orwell wrote:If I wasn't debillitated by laughter just now, and if this wasn't obviously some alternate Forumshire (I am, of course, the Seventh of my line in THIS Foumshire! ), I'd have to kill you, Eldorion! I would!

I'm sure that you're nowhere near as foppish as Orwell III. Absolutely positive. I can barely see any resemblance between the two of you at all.

The Archet Bugle wrote:I don't mind having an 'ínfluence'- but does he have to surpass me so effortlessly? It's an outrage!

I hope you know that you're still my favorite Forumshire author, Anon. I consider you an inspiration.

It probably says something about this thread that I have to ask this question, but which specific statement is making you crabbit, Petty?

Mrs Figg wrote:Agent Nora should get her own spin-off series.

kind of agree

Too true. She is by far the most captivating character - Eldo and Ringo being such dull, life-less figures! {{{ }}}

Looks like Orwell is squaring up for a .....handbag fight. Might have known. Watch you dont scratch someone with those claws Orwell, you might break a nail.

Pettytyrant101 wrote:Looks like Orwell is squaring up for a .....handbag fight. Might have known. Watch you dont scratch someone with those claws Orwell, you might break a nail.

You mean, "Non Author" is squaring up, don't you? I have good reason to believe that the women in Series Two of Nuwest Who are going to be fully formed women, not some Modernistic clever young woman shield maiden type. Anon believes in writing about REAL women, not fanciful oh so chic Politically Correct types. Just saying. I, of course, don't mean it as some cheap way of undermining other writers in Forumshire, far be it.

You mean, "Non Author"
Orwell.

Of course I do, how silly of me. {{{ }}}

Don't feel bad, Petty, Our arrangement confuses more than just you sometimes.

The Mystery of Mister Figg

Part 3


Agent Nora cast him a disapproving glance. “I may be fairly laid-back, as you Forumhobbit types tend to be, but at least try to act professional when you're talking to my boss, would you?”

“Of course,” said DI Eldo. “We're all professionals here. Lead the way.”

The two Forumshiran policehobbits and their companion walked through the streets of Bree towards the imposing fortress at its center. Bree-land filled a fairly small territory, composed mostly of farmlands and scattered townships surrounding the central city of Bree. The buildings of the city got taller as they neared the center.

“Bree-land Intelligence is headquartered beneath the Central Fortress,” explained Agent Nora as they passed through the downtown area. “Fortunately there's a direct route from the port to there.”

Sgt. Herring took in the site eagerly, never having been to Bree-land before. DI Eldo had visited once before for a police conference held at the Prancing Pony Hotel and Convention Center.

“Here we are!” announced Agent Nora as they neared the impressive gates of the Central Fortress. “Just have your IDs ready and follow me. They'll be expecting us.”

Together the three passed through security and descended beneath the fortress to the Intelligence offices. After passing through a second security checkpoint they entered a long conference room. Two people were already seated at the table in the middle. The more distant of the two wore a long robe with a hood that left his face in shadows.

“Welcome, Detective Inspector,” said the person sitting nearer to the trio. He was dressed in an expensive tailored suit. Agent Nora inclined her head to whisper in DI Eldo's ear. “The Director of Intelligence,” she breathed softly.

“Good morning, Director!” said DI Eldo. He walked to the table and leaned across to shake the Hobbit's hand. He extended his hand to the hooded Hobbit as well but stopped when the Director shook his head slightly.

They all sat down. “Thank you for your prompt return with our guests, Agent,” said the Director. “Please wait outside.” Agent Nora saluted and left.

“We're terribly sorry to have inconvenienced you,” said the Director, turning to the policehobbits. “But this is a very delicate matter that poses a challenge to both of our countries. We were assured by your Administration that you can be discrete and as such we have decided to trust you with this sensitive information.”

“I understand the need for discretion,” said DI Eldo. “Is Agent Nora aware of what you want to tell us?”

“She has been informed of the general situation,” said the Director simply. However, we need to be as frank as we can with our international partners.” DI Eldo nodded his agreement.

“As you may know, Bree-land is by and large a peaceful nation internally,” the Director began. “We have numerous travelers who pass through and that no doubt creates more trouble for us than you tend to experience in Forumshire, but for the most part it's nothing that can't be handled by our officers on the street. However, there are some more serious criminals who regrettably extend their activities not only throughout Bree-land but to other countries as well.”

“We know who they are and we watch them, but every now and then one of them manages to temporarily elude us. This particular cases involves a murder committed six years ago. A well-known socialite killed her husband and then fled with their combined fortune. We have only recently been able to track her to Forumshire, but to collect the final evidence and make an arrest we need your cooperation.”

“Forumshire and Bree-land don't have an extradition treaty,” DI Eldo interrupted. “If you're looking to have a criminal returned you're going to have to appeal to the political powers-that-be to get them to change the law. I can't help you with that.”

“We've already been in touch with the powers of Forumshire,” said the Director with a small smile. “They have agreed to make an exception in this case.”

“Why?”

“There is a limit to the level of classified information which I can disclose to you,” said the Director icily. “Let it suffice to say that our murderer was involved in a plot against several national governments. Both our rulers and yours agree that this makes her something of a special case.”

DI Eldo frowned and sat silent in thought for several minutes. Sgt. Herring had been listening attentively and now spoke up. “Why are you talking to us?” he asked. “If this is a matter of national security then you should contact the Secret Police. That's their mandate.”

“Discretion!” said the Director with some annoyance. “And trust. Those are essential. We don't have the resources to verify the reliability of every agent who would have to be involved. But you are from a small, independent department and you have been vouched for.”

Sgt. Herring looked unconvinced but did not respond. DI Eldo, however, did. “As you say, sir, we are a very small department. We cannot be away from our district for too long.”

“That won't be a problem,” said the Director with a larger smile. He looked almost predatory now. “We have traced our suspect to your town of Needlehole. Tell me, Detective Inspector, have you ever heard of Julia Figg?”


Before DI Eldo could respond, the hooded figure rapped on the table twice and left without saying a word. The Director took a file folder from his coat pocket and slid it across the table. “I'm afraid you can't take this with you for security reasons, but take as much time as you want to read through it. Leave it here when you're done.” The Director then left as well.

DI Eldo and Sgt. Herring glanced at each other uneasily. “What in Middle-earth is going on here?” asked Sgt. Herring quietly. The DI shook his head ever so slightly. Sgt. Herring fell quiet.

“Let's just look through this as quickly as possible and get out of here,” muttered DI Eldo. He opened the file folder began leafing through the documents and images therein. Julia Figg looked very similar to Mrs Figg, though DI Eldo was surprised that her hair was brown. He supposed Mrs Figg's famous ginger hair must be dyed.

Sgt. Herring glanced through the report of the original murder investigation. Apparently the late Mr Figg's given name was Oscar and he had been in his late-twenties when he was killed. “Nothing in here about the suspect being part of a terrorist plot,” the Sergeant said.

“No, that's in the biography,” said DI Eldo. “I just got to the part that mentions that.” He turned the page he was reading and paused. Most of the rest of the biography was blacked out. “It appears our security clearance isn't quite high enough for the details,” he said grumpily.

“I think I've seen enough,” said Sgt. Herring. “Did that memo you got from Superintendent Elthir say anything about making an arrest?”

“Yes, it did.” DI Eldo sighed unhappily. Mrs Figg was the last person he wanted to arrest but the notion of arresting anyone on behalf of a nation with no extradition treaty unsettled him more. “Nothing for it. Let's get out of here.”

The two rose and departed the conference room. They were met just outside by Agent Nora, who had been reading a magazine in the corner.

“How did it go?” she asked brightly.

“Fantastic,” said DI Eldo in a monotone. “What next?”

“We're to return to Forumshire to finish the operation,” she said. “I'm to return with you as Bree-land's official representative in this case. Although ...” she blushed slightly. “I'm afraid I don't know all the exact details. Did they fill you in completely?”

“Not completely,” said DI Eldo. “They must have their reasons for not wanting any of us to know the whole picture.”

“Ah.” Agent Nora looked disappointed. “Well, we could at least get something to eat before we try to find a ship to take us back!” she said with some of her enthusiasm returning. “I know a place right next to the Prancing Pony Hotel. They have the best fish and chips you will ever taste.”

“I'm in,” said Sgt. Herring brightly. They had not had time to eat before the meeting. “I have to ask though, do they cook with herring?”

Lunch was a pleasant affair, and the food was indeed excellent. DI Eldo was still quiet and thoughtful but Sgt. Herring and Agent Nora were trading stories of their respective careers in Skattykatzenfjord and Bree-land.

“Do you really have troll reserves in the north?” asked Agent Nora.

“I'm afraid I'm not allowed to say,” said Sgt. Herring. “The army doesn't take kindly to anyone even addressing those rumors. But I can tell you that the dung removal bill for the northernmost army bases is astronomical.”

They shared a laugh and Agent Nora ordered more wine. “I'll admit that sometimes I get sick of secrets,” she said. “They're my job and I can't complain when the Intelligence Service sends me my paycheck, but sometimes I wish I could talk more freely about my life.”

“I'm sure there's more to you than just your work,” said Sgt. Herring, who finished his own glass of wine.

“Sure, but it's hard to keep up friendships when you're setting sail for a different corner of the globe each week,” said Agent Nora moodily. “That's why I'm glad to still be on this case, you know? Actually getting to know some people instead of having to race off as soon as you've met.”

Sgt. Herring smiled understandingly. “To a long and difficult case that will require us to work together for months!” he said with a laugh.

Agent Nora giggled and tipped back her glass again. “So long as this difficult case doesn't have us all at each others throats by the end,” she said.

DI Eldo raised his own glass to the others. “We can hope.” He smiled for the first time since leaving the Intelligence headquarters. “Let's go for a walk. I'd love to see a bit more of Bree-land before we have to go.”


After paying the bill the trio strolled through the streets of the city and down to the more open fields that surrounded them. The farmland stretched out towards the horizon in gentle rolling hills. The fields were brown in winter, but it was clear that they would be a majestic green come spring.

“It's beautiful here,” said Sgt. Herring. “I don't know how you can leave it behind so often.”

“Me neither,” said Agent Nora. She turned and pointed off in the distance. “My grandmother had a farm almost at the border. During the Long Winter she had to hide in a cave when the white wolves and the wildlings swept through Bree-land. She and her family survived but the farm was burned down.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” said Sgt. Herring sincerely.

“It was a long time ago,” said Agent Nora. She turned back with a smile. “Everything's rebuilt now. When I was little I used to hiking in the hills looking for that cave, but I didn't find it.”

“I'm sure you will one day,” said Sgt. Herring, and he smiled back.

The trio spent longer than they intended wandering in the farmlands and the afternoon was well along by the time they returned to the harbor. As they approached the ships they were stopped by an impatient-looking Bree-lander in an Intelligence Service uniform.

“There you are!” he said in an annoyed tone. “Which one of you is Detective Inspector Eldorion?”

“That would be me,” said the DI.

“This is for you.” The agent handed him a sealed folder. “Everything you need for the remainder of your mission, I'm told. The top wants you to be punctual so do make an effort.”

“I shall,” said DI Eldo lightly. “Good day.” He tucked the folder under his coat. “Evidently we are on a time limit,” he said to his companions. “Let's take the first ship back to Forumshire. We can see what's in the folder once we're underway.”

My great Uncle's numchukkas! Eldo! This is Mills and Boon. Are you gouing to change your name to Barabrara Cartland?

{{{Good, with so many Modern women here, who would not be interested in all Eldo's romantic claptrap, they'll return to The Doctor in no time. What a stroke of luck! I'll have to keep reading though, not because I absolutely adore a good romance, no way, I mean, who cares if DI Eldo falls for Agent Nora and so breaks the Sergeant's heart - ooh how poignant that would be - but then what about Agent Nora and her poor heart? - not that that kind of delicious romantic claptrap iinterests me in the least! ... And, yet, he might decide to change tact and write something intellectual and masculine, so attract the Modern ladies back again... Must not get complacent, no... I'll have to keep a close eye on things}}}

"He supposed Mrs figgs famous ginger hair was dyed"

GINGER!!!!!???????? .........DYED!!!!!!!!!!??????




HOW VERY DARE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!

apart from that nasturtion casting its great!

You'll always been shown proper respect in Dr Who, Mrs Figg, I can assure you of that. You know, I think that Anon even fancies you a bit.