The Needlehole Mysteries

Can't agree more, Amarië, the ending is great! Real movie material, really ;D

Strangely, I love unhappy endings (as long as they're satisfying!) And I love this one in particular because I know there will be an even more amazing story to follow it!!!!!!!
And perhaps this next time around us other ladies can see some (screen?) time? Like Ally, Kafria, Sqauch, me, and then chris and halfwise too? It'd be an honor.

Amarië wrote:Got to applaud how you crashed both "ships" and sent the Herrings away on a different ship!

I did my best to try to surprise everyone in some way in the finale. I don't know if I succeeded but the ships are definitely lost at sea for now.

And who will be the judge!? WRITE, BOY!! WRITE!!

Shipping will come up again in the third story, I can say that, though it probably won't be the primary focus.

Also I wonder how Orwell/Oscar managed to get banned from Dark Planet (or at least that's what he said) when he was suppose to be held prisoner there.

There are a couple of things I wish I'd explained better/more fully and Orwell III is one of them. What I intended was that Orwell was afraid to go to the Dark Planet since he was liberated from the prison ship en route to the DP. He didn't want to admit he'd been a resistance fighter in Bree-land so for his cover story he took a kernel of the truth and said he'd just been kicked out for sedition or some such. He was reluctant to go to Bree-land, too, but not as much since he knew the DP had to be sneaky there.

Tinuviel wrote:Strangely, I love unhappy endings (as long as they're satisfying!) And I love this one in particular because I know there will be an even more amazing story to follow it!!!!!!!

Thank you very much, Tin -- and everyone else! I hope that the third part of the story will be worth the wait. I think endings are the most important part of a story and I hope this one can be the reason for the first two stories going the way they did.

And perhaps this next time around us other ladies can see some (screen?) time? Like Ally, Kafria, Sqauch, me, and then chris and halfwise too? It'd be an honor.

I would love to include every single member of Forumshire in the story in some way but I'm wary of overloading the story with characters that have nothing to do. However, there will be a number of new characters based on real Forumhobbits in the third story, as well as side-characters from the first two being developed more.

After that, if I ever come back and do another "series" there will be more room for more people, but I can't promise anything beyond the third tale right now.

Very good Eldo. I know shall anxiously chug buckie as I await the next installment.

I will get to these tales, Eldo --- but what with so much going on --- and I've only got through about three parts of Petty's tale as it is! Boy is Forumshire tiring nowadays... it's turning into a City...

I look forward to hearing what you think of the stories, Orwell. You're one of the people who inspired me to start writing these in the first place.

I hope that doesn't mean I'll get the blame! {{{ }}}

oooooh! looking forward

Not that I am impatient or anything... but I am looking forward to learn about the inner workings, power balance and political intrigues of forumshire. Could become very useful... *cough* for better to understand the locals and their customs.

I'm sorry for the massive delay in getting this started. I have most of the story planned out a while ago, but when I begun work on the first chapter a few weeks ago I didn't get very far. All of your pestering/encouragement kept this on my mind though, and the concern expressed about the story in the April Fool's thread convinced me to get back to work. The first chapter is now finished and will be posted momentarily. It's a bit strange going back after a long break but I hope you all still enjoy the tale. It starts off a bit slow with all the introductory stuff but the story will pick up soon.

The Treason of Forumshire

Part 1


The group of Hobbits poured from the back of the covered cart and into the warm spring sun of Michel Delving. It was just after 2 o'clock in the afternoon and even in the capital, most Hobbits were enjoying a siesta or a second lunch indoors. The temperature was unseasonably high, but that did not seem to bother the group in question, who all wore full, formal suits and masks over their faces.

The cart carrying the group had stopped at the curb of one of the largest avenues in downtown Michel Delving. The city had grown up at the foot and side of a hill, and was largely underground, Hobbit-style. The above-ground buildings were large, but not skyscrapers of the sort you could find in the Dark Planet or Bree-land. However, the particular building they had stopped in front of was one of the largest in the city.

The smartly-dressed gang hurried up the white steps to the impressive marble facade of the First Bank of Forumshire. They burst through the entrance loudly. Some of the group stopped to chain the doors shut, while others withdrew strange metal tubes from their coats and lifted them to point at the few tellers and customers in the lobby.

“Listen up! This is a robbery, but if you all cooperate then we'll be on our way without any unpleasantries and you lot can carry on with your little lives!” yelled the leader of the gang. “Do I make myself clear?”

No one responded and the gang rushed forward. Leaping over the counter, they smashed the bank's security palantirs and forced the tellers to climb over and sit in a circle in the middle of the lobby along with the customers. “Just sit tight,” sneered one of the larger gangsters, as several of the masked Hobbits left for the vault.

The remaining gangsters stood guard over the hostages, who huddled quietly. A few of the younger Hobbits trembled slightly. Through the windows they could see a few carts and pedestrians passing by the bank, but none of them seemed interested in their finances that afternoon. None of the hostages dared to speak up.

After nearly 10 minutes, the leader grunted and two more of the gangsters followed their companions towards the vault. One of the tellers cautiously watched them leave out of the corner of his eye. There were now only three gangsters left in the lobby with them, and they were not armed with pocket crossbows or swords. In fact, their only weapons were the metal tubes.

The teller suddenly leapt to his feet and charged the nearest gangster, knocking him to the ground. “Everybody, run for the back door!” he yelled. A few of the other hostages stood up cautiously, but others remained firmly seated.

“Come on!” yelled the teller, who was dangerously aware of the gangsters moving closer to him. “Can't you see they're not carrying crossbows? If we run for it–”

“Your friends are smarter than you, hero-boy,” the leader said with a laugh that lacked any humor. “If you know what's good for you you'll sit back down right now.”

The others who had stood sat down immediately, but the teller glared at the gangster furiously. “Or what? Are you going to hit me with your pipe like this is a pub brawl? Well bring it on!”

“If you insist,” said the gangster. He pointed the pipe directly at the teller and there was a loud, sudden bang. Everyone, including the gangsters, winced at the noise and the accompanying flash of light. A smell of sulfur filled the room.

A cry of pain came from the teller, and the other hostages were shocked to see him lying on the floor in a pool of blood. The gangster shoved his metal pipe into a holster on his belt and laughed again. “What a fool,” he said disdainfully.

Several of the other gangsters ran back into the room, metal pipes at the ready, asking what had happened. The leader snarled at them to get back to work, however, and soon the gangsters were ready to leave with their haul.

“Be good and stay here until the cops arrive,” said the leader as he unfastened the chains and left through the front door.

As soon as the gangsters had left, several of the hostages ran over to the stricken teller to see what had happened. By then he had gone silent and nothing they tried could revive him.


Less than a mile away, but inside a heavily-protected and mostly soundproof fortress, a bored bailiff was reading to the court. “We now return to the case of The Administrator vs. Eldorion of Michel Delving,” intoned the bailiff. “All rise for the Honorable Judge Whitfoot.”

Everyone in the courtroom rose to their feet, except for the defendant, who was already forced to remain standing in the box where he was chained in place.

“Mr Eldorion,” began the Judge, after he had taken his seat. “You stand before us accused of insubordination and treason. Crimes which, we are assured, would have put the entire future existence of Forumshire at risk if not for the precautionary action of certain other officers. We have by now heard both the evidence for and against you, but you are permitted to make a final statement before we adjourn so that I may make my decision.”

Eldo looked straight ahead at the Judge, but out of the corners of his eyes he examined the rest of the courtroom. The assembled lawyers and witnesses were seated on either side of him. He could just barely see the expressionless face of Superintendent Elthir without turning his head.

He could not see it now, but he knew that the balcony above and behind him held only a few military and police officers along with top members of the Administration. The contents of his trial and the case against him were being kept secret for reasons of national security. Not even Sgt. Herring and Agent Nora, despite their involvement in the events that led to him standing here, were present.

“Your Honor, I have already spoken on my behalf and all I can say now is that I did the best I could with the mission I was led to believe I was undertaking. I was working without having been fully informed of the situation and I had to make snap judgments. I regret the mistakes I made and all I can ask is that the court do what it thinks is just.”

The judge nodded. ““This trial is adjourned until I deliver my verdict. We shall reconvene here tomorrow.”

“Just one second, Your Honor!” called the prosecutor, who stood up from behind his desk. “I do hate to interrupt official procedure, but I have just been informed that the Administrator himself would like to make a statement.”

“What?!” the judge demanded incredulously. “That's preposterous! This is a judicial matter and–”

Before he could finish, an aide ran up to the docket and whispered in the judge's ear. “Very well,” he fumed. “Proceed.”

The prosecutor nodded and several guards rolled out a large table with a palantir in the center of it. The palantir was wrapped in thick black cloth so that the visual projector was blocked, though sound would still work.

Once the table had been positioned in front of the judge, a deep, booming voice spoke out. “I am the Administrator of Forumshire. The person being tried before you has committed an act of betrayal against our country. You must find him guilty.”

The judge looked furious, and almost as if it could sense the impending explosion, the voice from the palantir fell silent. The guards stepped forward to remove the table from the room.

“As I was saying before … before that,” the judge said through gritted teeth. “This trial is adjourned until I deliver my verdict.” He pounded his gavel and swept out of the courtroom without another word.


One Year Earlier...

After his brief encounter with Elthir, Eldo was given a new cell. He was relieved that the cell was large enough for him to stand in and walk around somewhat. It seemed that Elthir or somewhat higher up had decided to hold Eldo in an actual prison cell rather than a torture chamber. For that, Eldo was immensely grateful.

The weeks passed slowly at first, but soon everything became a blur. His guards came and went at regular intervals and he was fed twice daily, but Eldo never saw any other prisoners. Sometimes he thought he could hear the muffled sounds of screaming and sobbing coming through the thick stone walls, but Eldo was never sure if he just imagined it or not.

After several months of good behavior Eldo was transferred to a new cell. This one actually had a small window set high in the wall. As soon as the guards left Eldo scrambled to the wall and craned his neck to look out. He could see blue sky for the first time since Bree-land. Eldo pulled himself up using the bars and peered out. He could just barely see stone walls and an enclosed courtyard far below.

It was not until he had been imprisoned for nearly half a year that he saw Elthir again. The Superintendent entered Eldo's cell unannounced in the middle of the day.

“I see you have made yourself comfortable here,” Elthir said cooly as Eldo lay on his prison cot. Eldo did not respond.

“I've come here to inform you that your paperwork has gone through and your trial date has been set. You have been appointed a lawyer, unless you wanted to hire someone out of your own pocket?”

“I'll take the lawyer,” Eldo said, hoping against hope that he had been given a horrible lawyer out of pure spite.

“Excellent,” Elthir said tersely. He turned to leave. “You'll be able to meet with him soon. Someone else will be along with all the information you need when the time comes.”

Eldo met his lawyer for the first time only a few days later. The lawyer was a middle-aged Hobbit with a receding hairline and a pleasant smile. He had an air of knowledge and professionalism as they reviewed the case together.

The trial itself lasted about a week. Each day, Eldo was handcuffed and marched from his cell to the judicial wing of the Fortress of Justice. The path to the courtroom that Eldo was taken on ran underground, and Eldo did not encounter any civilians before or during the trial.

After he was returned to his cell on the last day of the trial, Eldo paced back and forth incessantly. He went over all the events of the day in his head, analyzing everything that the lawyers and he himself had said. More than anything, it was the words of the Admin from the palantir that bothered him. Eldo realized that he had never actually heard the Admin's voice before, much less seen him. That the Admin would intervene in this trial seemed exceedingly odd.

Eldo continued his pacing and brooding until the moon was already descending from the sky. Finally, he lay down on his bed, but he could not rest. The judge's decision would not be given until late the following afternoon.


“What do you mean, we can't see the trial?” Agent Nora demanded angrily.

“I mean that it is a matter of national security and as such all proceedings related to this case have been sealed from the general public.” The guard in the lobby of the courthouse sighed. “If you wish you may submit a request for a copy of the transcript to the Office of Records after all the documents have been filed, but I must warn you, your request will not be granted if you do not provide good reason.”

“I'm not the general public, how's that for a reason?” yelled Agent Nora. In a somewhat quieter voice, she continued, “I was involved in the operation where DI Eldo was accused of those crimes. It's not like I don't know about this stuff already.”

“I suggest that you leave,” the guard said testily, “unless you want to be brought in for questioning about what exactly you know and how you came to acquire this information.”

Agent Nora had an angry retort on her lips, but Sgt. Herring laid a cautioning hand on her arm and gently pulled her away. “We'll figure something out later,” he said softly. “You don't want to get in trouble before we have a chance to find Eldo.”

Nora gave a sad nod and the pair exited the courtroom. Once outside, they walked slowly down the street away from the courtroom. Neither of them were familiar with Michel Delving, but the sun had been shining warmly for the past several days and the streets here were wide and clean.

However, the two had not walked for very long before they saw a strange site in front of them. As they walked past an imposing marble building (that was apparently the First Bank of Forumshire, judging by the massive letters engraved on its edifice) they saw a large crowd of policehobbits milling about both inside and in front of the building. Crime scene tape was strung up between the many columns of the front of the building, and a stretcher was being carried towards an ambulance drawn by two massive horses.

“What in Middle-earth do you suppose happened there?” asked Agent Nora. “Should we go help out?”

“It looks like the local police have everything under control,” said Sgt. Herring. “I would strongly recommend that we keep a low profile until we are able to contact Eldo.”

“Yes, you're right, I suppose…” Agent Nora said as they continued to trudge past. “I don't like anything about this situation, though.”

“No one does,” Sgt. Herring said comfortingly. “We just have to stay strong, though. For Eldo.”

“Yeah. For Eldo.”


Eldo blinked as he was led outside into the bright sun. He was still cuffed and flanked by new fewer than eight armed guards, but he was in the open air, outside of the massive government fortress complex at the heart of Michel Delving. To be fair, he had been led out by a back door into an enclosed alleyway, but as he craned his neck to stare at the bright blue sky directly above him, Eldo could not have cared less.

He had been led down the courtroom as normal that evening, but the judge had been almost half an hour late. All of the assembled Hobbits had fidgeted nervously in their seats until the judge finally strode in and called for order. Almost immediately he began reading his opinion, declaring that the prosecution had failed to prove criminal intent for the treason charge, and that time served was sufficient punishment for the insubordination charge. Most of the decision was a discussion of judicial independence and how it was the sole provenance of duly appointed judges to determine guilt or innocence, but Eldo wasn't really listened at that point.

Now, mere hours later, he was being hurried into a secure coach behind the Fortress of Justice. The judge had decreed that Eldo could go free that day, but that he must remain away from Michel Delving for a year and a day. That wasn't an issue for Eldo, who had been dreaming of leaving the city behind for his entire term of imprisonment, and he was now so close to that.

“We're going to get you away from here as quick as possible, as per the judge's orders,” said the burly guard sitting across from him in the coach. “You tell us where you want to be dropped off, we take you there along with your belongings,” the guard indicated a rucksack filled with the meager possessions Eldo had been allowed in his cell, “and then you're free to go. Just stay away from the city and keep out of trouble.”

“Yes sir, I can do that,” Eldo said quickly. “I'd like to go to Needlehole, if that's okay with you, sir.”

“Needlehole it is,” said the guard. He grunted and leaned over to tap the driver of the coach on the shoulder. “Hear that? Needlehole.” The driver nodded and whipped the horses, who took off.

The coach sped through the streets of Needlehole. Eldo tried peering out through one of the narrow windows, but everything appeared as a giant blur. Even the muffled sights and sounds that did reach him seemed overwhelming after so long spend in the grey, drab fortress. He wanted to slow down and savor every sensation of the outside world, but his guards seemed intent on getting him out of the city as quick as possible.

Once they were on the country roads that led to Needlehole the coach slowed down some. Eldo was able to see glimpses of green from the grass and trees, as well as occasional flashes of other colors from flowers, but he soon grew tired as the adrenaline stopped flowing and the sun began to set. Before long the interior of the coach was darkened by shadows and Eldo fell into a fitful sleep as they continued to rattle along towards Needlehole.

When Eldo was roused, the door to the coach was open but all was dark. The chief guard pulled him from the coach and uncuffed his hands. “Here are your belongings,” the guard tossed Eldo the rucksack, “and a sum of money to keep you going until you settle down, compliments of Superintendent Elthir.” The guard handed Eldo a small purse that jingled with the sound of coins.

“Elthir gave me this?” asked Eldo in a wondering voice.

“That's what I said,” the guard declared gloomily. “And with that, our work here is finished. Goodbye.” With that, the guards climbed back into the coach, which rolled off into the night. Eldo stared after it, but the coach was soon enveloped by the gloom.

“The hell was all that about it?” Eldo asked out loud. So much had happened in the last twelve hours that his mind was still reeling. Shaking his head to cast off sleep, Eldo tried to think about everything that had happened. He had been convinced that the Admin's insistence of his guilt would mean his conviction for sure, but the judge had seemed furious at his courtroom being interfered with. Maybe that had secured Eldo's release.

“Forget about it,” Eldo muttered to himself. “The important thing is that you're free and away from that horrible city.” He looked around and realized that he didn't know what part of Needlehole he was in. Walking forward, Eldo kept looking for the telltale neon glow of Mrs Figg's House of Eels and Pleasure, but it was nowhere to be seen. Eventually he found his way to the main street and trudged towards the nearest pub, which was still well lit. The sounds of drinkers and revelers spilled out into the street.

“Hello, and welcome to the Muck and Duck, home of Needlehole's best buckie,” the haggard-looking hostess told Eldo in a monotone. “Today is Fried-Egg Friday, so we are open from dusk to dawn for a ...” she gave a huge yawn “... a dusk-to-dawn celebration of breakfast cuisine and vodka. May I show you to your table?”

“I was actually wondering if you had any rooms for the night,” Eldo said. “Although I am rather hungry, I wasn't really interested in drinking.”

“The hostess blinked slowly and then scanned the piece of parchment in front of her with bleary eyes. “Uh, we have one spare room in the back. I can show you there.”

“That would be great, thank you,” said Eldo. He followed the hostess along the edge of the main room, avoiding the loud and generally filthy drinkers celebrating Fried-Egg Friday. After finding his room, the hostess handed him a key and Eldo thanked her again. Once inside, he crawled into bed without even changing and, despite the noise from the main room, fell quickly into a deep sleep.

Have I forgiven you for the April Fool Day trick yet?



But its good to see you have made a start on your story please continue.

Oh what a day! An April fools post, a dark planet fic post, AND a chapter of TNM! I'd be over the moon with joy, except there's STILL no NotP in my mail box!! I WANT my NEWSPAPERS!! But YEY for the rest!!!

YEYE!!! LOVED IT!!! can't wait to hear the rest. .. and illustrate

Thank you very much for the quick responses, everyone! It's really encouraging to know that people still want to read my stories even when they're coming slow. Hopefully there won't be too many more delays though. The next update is already about half-written!

How's the story going??

Yeah, how IS the story going?

That poor little tortured Eldo...

....and I am still waiting for GB to come back...

Sorry guys, the past week or so has been really shitty and I haven't been able to get a lot done in general. It's too early to tell if this week will be better but this story is near the top of my list of priorities as soon as I have the opportunity.

oh, no rush, I know the feeling of having a shitty week maybe I should upload something, so we can have something to read

I must have missed this a couple days ago, but YAY ELDO!!!!!! I see a royal title headed your way if you keep this up!

The Treason of Forumshire

Part 2


By the time Eldo woke up it was already mid-afternoon. The window in his room faced west so the sun bathed the room in a warm golden light. Feeling well-rested, Eldo went to the basin to wash his face and examine himself in the mirror. He had lost weight in prison, but he had gained back some of it during the more recent months when he was in a much nicer cell and was fed better food. He had not eaten since before his trial almost an entire day before, however, a fact his stomach loudly reminded him of.

Quickly throwing on a change of clothes (his only civilian pair, which he discovered had been returned to him in the rucksack) Eldo made his way into the main room of the pub. No other patrons were there, and most of the staff seemed busy scrubbing down the tables, floor, walls, and ceiling. Eldo glanced around uneasily. Aside from the brief conversation last night, he had not had an ordinary conversation with another person in over a year.

“Er, excuse me,” he said tentatively, looking towards the kitchen. One of the chefs looked over, and Eldo took a deep breath before continuing. “Um, I'm really sorry, but did I miss all the meals today? I'm afraid I don't know exactly what time it is.”

“It's three minutes before five o'clock,” said the chef, pointing at a clock on the wall. “Dinner doesn't start for another hour, but if you're a rooming customer, we can make something simple for you.”

“Simple is great,” said Eldo, giving a weak smile. “Whatever is easiest for you, really. I'm not at all picky.”

Soon Eldo was wolfing down a large plate of reheated scrambled eggs and toast from the night before, along with a house salad. After finishing he paid for his room and board through the next day.

Wanting to experience the fresh air again, Eldo went out for a stroll. As he walked along the street he realized that the Muck and Duck was in fact the same pub in which he and Sgt. Herring had met Biffo Banks and Petty Tyrant, where they had put together the last pieces of the puzzle of the missing Coal Scuttle. It felt like a lifetime ago.

“I shouldn't be able to feel this old yet,” grumbled Eldo, kicking aimlessly at a pebble in front of him. He suddenly realized that without meaning to, he had been walking his old path towards Mrs Figg's House of Eels and Pleasure. “Some things never change,” he said with a wry smile.

When he arrived at the side-street where Mrs Figg's was located, however, the smile left his face. All the windows were boarded up and the famous neon sign was covered the a heavy tarp. At that very moment a Hobbit was chaining the doors shut.

“Hey!” called Eldo, running down the street. “What's going on here? What happened to Mrs Figg's.”

“This most shameful house of depravity is being shut down,” sniffed the Hobbit, who finished chaining the doors shut. He turned to face Eldo, who was shocked to see the face of Odo Banks.

“Odo! How can you do this? It's Mrs Figg's House and you know it,” Eldo cried in desperation.

“It seems that Mrs Figg has moved back to Bree-land where she came from to stay with that horrid husband of hers. A decision I approve of, since Bree-land is the only place such disrespectable fools would be accepted.”

“So you bought the House, then?” asked Eldo with great concern.

“Yes, I did,” said Odo, who seemed very satisfied with himself. “It is to be torn down and replaced with a respectable school for girls who seek training from an experienced man in the arts of wifery. Although I must say that the town council was most opposed to approving the zoning change, I can't imagine why.” Odo sniffed delicately again.

“Yes, I can't imagine why,” growled Eldo.

“What business is it of yours, stranger?” said Odo, looking directly at Eldo for the first time. “Begone with you!”

Eldo blinked. “We've met before, haven't we? I'm DI … I mean, I'm Eldo. Remember the Coal Scuttle case?”

Odo looked curiously at the former policehobbit before lighting up with recognition. “Eldo! Oh, how good to see you. I can't believe I didn't recognize you right away. I was actually thinking of you just the other day.”

“You were?” Eldo said with surprise. He felt flattered, but then he realized that Odo had probably been thinking of ways to ensure Eldo's long-term imprisonment as revenge for his capture of Mirabella Banks.

“Yes, I have a case that needs solving. Another mystery, you could say.” Odo gazed intently at Eldo before continuing. “You wouldn't be interested in helping me, would you?”

“You should probably talk to the real police,” said Eldo. “Maybe you heard about it on the news, but I'm not on the force anymore.”

“Oh yes, I heard about that,” said Odo. “Dreadful unrespectable business and all that. But actually, that's why I thought of you specifically.”

“Really?” said Eldo. He found himself growing curious despite his misgivings about the Banks clan. “Why's that?”

“Because the 'real police', as you put it, have not been helpful at all,” said Odo. “This is not something to be discussed out in the open, though. Would you return to my estate with me?”

“I suppose it can't hurt,” said Eldo. Inwardly he was surprised but extremely grateful that anyone would still approach him as a detective. “I'll heard what you have to say.”


Two days had passed since Sgt. Herring and Agent Nora arrived in Michel Delving from Skattykatzenfjord, and Nora was becoming increasingly desperate for news of the trial. They had been unable to get any news at all from the guards and secretaries at the Fortress of Justice the day before. Sgt. Herring suggested they seek news elsewhere, but before that Nora was determined to make one last effort.

She woke up early on their third day in Michel Delving and went from their inn to the Fortress of Justice alone. The night shift guards were changing stations with the day shift guards, but she slipped up to the main information desk in the lobby, where the new secretary had just taken her seat.

“Excuse me,” said Nora, giving her most endearing face and voice. “I came to this city because someone I know was being tried here, and I'm so worried and desperate for information. Do you think you could pleeease help me?”

The secretary looked at Nora with a bemused expression. “Of course I can help you, dear. What is your friend's name?”

“Eldorion,” said Nora. “I heard on the news he was being tried in Judge Whitfoot's courtroom, if that helps.”

The secretary pursed her lips. “I'm afraid the details of that case are all sealed, Ms...?”

“Nora,” she said quickly. “My name is Nora, I came here all the way from Skattykatzenfjord to see Eldo. I realized I might not get to talk to him but I have no idea where he even is at this point.”

The secretary looked sympathetic. “Is he your husband?”

Nora blushed. “Oh, no! We, uh, we haven't known each other for that long yet, but we had worked together recently and I was...” she trailed off.

The secretary smiled knowingly. “All I can say – and I really shouldn't be saying this, so you didn't hear it from me – is that your Mr Eldorion was acquitted and moved away from Michel Delving yesterday.”

“Moved away?” asked Nora. “But if he was acquitted, why would he do that?”

“Apparently he was told to stay away from the city,” explained the secretary. “I don't know where he was taken, but he should be walking free even as we speak. I'm sorry, but that's all I can tell you.”

Nora nodded happily. “Thank you so much!” she cried, and hurried back to the inn to tell Sgt. Herring the news. If Eldo was free, then there was only one place in Forumshire he would have chosen to go to.


Odo and Eldo sat across from each other in Odo's parlor, drinking tea and munching on biscuits. After he had had his fill, Odo began to explain. “As I'm sure you know I'm involved in a number of very lucrative business ventures,” he said.

“Yes, I know,” said Eldo. He looked around the luxurious room and cast a critical eye on the golden buttons of Odo's waistcoat.

Odo cleared his throat and continued. “Well, not even a week ago, one of my most profitable business partners, Otho Burrowes, turned up dead in his parlor in Nobottle, just over the way from here.”

“What did the police make of it?” asked Eldo.

“They said it was a suicide, but only because they had no clue what else might have happened,” Odo said testily. “There was a hole in the side of his head as someone had drilled into it, but they didn't find a drill or any signs of a struggle at the scene.”

“I hate to say this so early in the investigation, but I have no idea what to make of that either,” Eldo said with some skepticism.

“Of course you don't, not yet,” said Odo. Eldo glared at him. “You were locked up until yesterday and you haven't even visited the crime scene yet,” Odo explained quickly.

Eldo sighed loudly and stood up. “If that's all-”

“That's not all!” Odo interrupted. Two days ago, there was a similar murder in Michel Delving. In the middle of bank robbery, one of the robbers killed a teller with what witnesses described as a metal pipe. Only the teller was never hit with a pipe. All that happened was a flash, a loud bang, and then the teller is dead and bleeding from a hole that looked like it was made by a drill.”

Eldo sat back down slowly, staring at the Hobbit across from him. “Are you making this up or embellishing it?” he asked cautiously.

“I've told you Eru's own truth,” said Odo. “I swear it on my honor.”

Eldo smirked and fought not to laugh out loud at Odo's choice of words. He did not trust the Banks, but he had no real goals or purpose after his release and he didn't want to miss something dropped so perfectly into his lap. “This sounds like an absolutely fascinating case, then. Shall we go to Nobottle to see what I can make of the crime scene?”

“That's all I ask,” said Odo, though he was rather surly at Eldo's smirking. “Let's be off.”


Sgt. Herring and Agent Nora quickly packed their things and departed Michel Delving with the next chartered pony cart they could find. By the time they arrived both were antsy and impatient. As they trundled through the streets of Needlehole, the tarp-covered sign of Mrs Figg's House came into view.

Nora's face fell. “Oh no! I completely forgot that Mrs Figg moved to Bree-land. I don't know who else to go to for news here.”

Sgt. Herring frowned. “I think I might know someone,” he said. “I just hope she hasn't moved too.” He tugged on the reins and the pony trudged towards Main Street.

As they reached the street, Nora's eyes widened in recognition. “This is where I first met Eldo and you!” she exclaimed. “That building right there. Isn't it the Sheriff's office?”

“Yeah, it is,” Sgt. Herring said with a sad smile on his face. “We're going for the building next door, though. The lady who lives there probably knows more about the news than anyone else in Forumshire.”

The Sergeant pulled up the pony cart and the duo jumped to the street. Once they reached the door, Sgt. Herring knocked loudly. In less than a minute it opened to reveal a bespectacled woman with long, wavy brown hair and vaguely elfin features.

“Ambassador Amarie, good morning,” said Sgt. Herring. “I don't know if you remember, but my name is Sgt. Ringo Herring and we met some time ago when I lived next door.”

Amarie's eyes flashed, but before Sgt. Herring could discern the meaning of that, the Ambassador's face shone with a bright smile. “Of course! How could I forget a fellow Fjordlandian so far from our homeland?”

“I didn't know you were from Skattykatzenfjord,” Sgt. Herring said cautiously. “I didn't realize I had mentioned it, either.”

Amarie's smile grew wider. “I couldn't tell you where I found out even if I wanted to!” she said brightly. “When you read as much about the world as I do, you sometimes forget how you learned something, because your brain is so full of the what of the matter.”

Sgt. Herring stared at the Ambassador for a moment before shaking his head slightly, as if clearing it. “Well, I'm very sorry to barge in on you like this, but I'm actually returning to Forumshire for the first time after a year spent in Fjordlandia, along with my companion here, Nora Herring-”

“You're a Fjordlandian too?” interrupted Amarie. “How lovely! We should have a party with traditional Fjordlandian dress and cuisine. To think that there would be so many of us here in this one village!”

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Amarie,” said Nora. “I'm afraid we can't stay in Needlehole for too long. You see, we're trying to find our friend, Eldo, who I'm sure you've read about in the news. We were told he came here but we don't know where to begin looking.”

“How could I forget Eldo?” asked Amarie. “Why don't you come in and I'll see what I can find for you.” The three entered the house and entered Amarie's living room. Amarie put a plate of traditional Fjordlandian biscuits on the coffee table before sitting down. “I'm surprised you knew to come here,” she said. “Eldo's destination wasn't in the newspaper reports.”

“You seem to have known that he came here though,” Sgt. Herring said slyly.

Amarie smiled mysteriously. “Perhaps you're right, and perhaps you're wrong,” she said in a sing-song voice. “The wise seek to collect knowledge, for knowledge is power.”

“I can't help but notice that you're not sharing any of that knowledge with us,” said Nora.

Amarie peered over her glasses at the young woman sitting across from her. “Should I? No one just gives away power, and it's a daily struggle to stay safe with all the tension between Dark Planet and Forumshire after your mis-adventure in Bree-land.”

Before Nora could reply, Sgt. Herring cut in. “I think what she meant to say is that we're very concerned about your friend and we were sincerely hoping that you could help us since you're our only lead,” he said diplomatically.

Amarie sat silent for a moment before speaking. “Well, we're old neighbors, so the least I can do is be neighborly. A friend of mine who works at one of the pubs in town told me that Eldo left town yesterday to visit a friend in Dwaling.”

Nora didn't know what to make of the information, but from the look on Sgt. Herring's face she knew it couldn't be good. “That's practically on the other side of Forumshire,” he said.

Nora struggled to keep her face from displaying her sadness. “Why would he come all the way out here only to turn around?” she asked no one in particular.

The Ambassador shrugged. “My friend seemed to think that he had been planning on staying at Mrs Figg's, but of course-”

Nora stood up abruptly, her expression suddenly hard. “I'm sure Eldo had his reasons,” she said with an air of finality. “Ringo, we'd better hurry if we want to catch up with Eldo. Let's go.”

Sgt. Herring smiled apologetically at the Ambassador as they said goodbye. Once in the cart and on their way again, he sighed and turned to face Nora. “Why did you have to be like that?”

“I'm just really frustrated with running back and forth across Forumshire,” she said grumpily. “And she didn't have to say what she did about Eldo coming here!”

Sgt. Herring appeared ready to say something himself about Eldo coming to Needlehole, but he thought better of it. He turned back to face the road, sneaking only a side-long glance at his companion.

“Come on Nora, chin up,” he said reassuringly. “We'll find him in no time, and then it's smooth sailing. You'll see.”

The next morning the duo were only halfway to Dwaling. They had slept for only a short while; Agent Nora nestled between their bags in the back and Sgt. Herring stretched out as much as he could on the driver's bench in front. After a meager breakfast from what they had brought along, they began driving again. Nora struggled to stay awake and soon began slumping against the Sergeant's shoulder as she dozed off. Sgt. Herring had not slept any better, but his intense military training allowed him to function on no sleep at all when necessary.

Around mid-morning Sgt. Herring stopped the cart to stretch his legs. Before standing up he gently lowered the sleeping Nora to the bench and covered her with a blanket from the back. He then walked in a slow circle around the cart, casually examining his surroundings while trying to work the kinks out of his back.

A slight rustling of the leaves in a nearby bush caught Sgt. Herring's eyes. The woods through which they were riding were full of animal life, but this bush seemed too large to be shaken by a rodent. Narrowing his eyes, the Sergeant walked closer. Before he reached the bush, the sound of a snapping twig from further in the woods distracted him.

The Sergeant frowned. I must be getting paranoid, he thought to himself. Nonetheless, the unexpected difficulty they were having in finding Eldo bothered him, and he found the surrounding woods to be unsettling. With a final suspicious glare at the trees he turned around and started to make his way back to the cart.

Before he had gone three paces, he felt a wire dig into his neck and a pair of thick arms close around him from behind.


Eldo cursed as he examined the parlor from floor to ceiling for the third time. Behind him, Odo sat on the sofa, flipping through a thick notebook filled with numbers and scribblings. He seemed content to let the former DI do his investigative work undisturbed. Eldo found an unobtrusive Odo to be quite unusual, but he welcomed the change.

After an hour and a half of searching, however, Eldo was forced to give up. He returned to the chalk body outline in the center of the room and glared at it. “I'm sorry, but there's absolutely no sign of a break in or that anyone who wasn't supposed to be here has ever been in this room,” said Eldo. “The only unusual thing was a some sort of black powder on the floor. I thought it might be coffee grounds, but they don't have the right smell. Either way, that's not anything to go on.”

“Don't sell yourself short, Eldo,” said Odo. “You've already found something that wasn't on the regular police's report.” He examined the patch of carpet where Eldo had placed a small red marker indicating the presence of potential evidence. “I suspected as much,” he said quietly.

“You suspected what?” asked Eldo in annoyance. He had the uncomfortable feeling that he was being kept in the dark.

“It's just that this fits with something from the report of the bank robbery I told you about,” explained Odo. “I didn't want to bias your judgment so I didn't mention it before now, but I'd like you to read the report from that crime scene.” He removed a thick folder from his suitcase on the floor and handed to Eldo.

Eldo sat down in one of the parlor's plush armchairs and read through the report quickly. Near the end, his eyes widened. “A strange black powder found on the floor of the bank? How could the police not have noticed that here? Shouldn't they be looking for similarities when the cause of death is the same?”

“They should,” said Odo. “But not everyone has the same sort of invesigative eye as you. It's why I hired you for this job. Besides, you may also have noticed that the bank's floor was white marble, whereas the powder here was on a darkly-colored carpet.”

Eldo blinked in surprise. “That's … really perceptive, actually,” he said. “You don't happen to know what this powder is, do you?”

Odo shuffled his feet and stared at the floor. “As a matter of fact, I do,” he said. “But you have to promise to keep this a secret!” he said, beads of sweat already showing at his collar.

Eldo gazed at the richly-dressed Hobbit mistrustfully. “It's something illegal, isn't it?”

“No, no! Not at all!” said Odo hurriedly. “It's experimental. They don't even have laws about this sort of thing yet because it was only invented a year or two ago. One of my firms has been trying to find a safe method of mass production, so I'm rather intimately involved in the nascent industry....”

As Odo continued, Eldo rolled his eyes. “Can you just tell me what it is?” he asked.

Odo stopped talking and looked very serious. “It's called gunpowder,” he said. “It's part of those pipe weapons from the bank robbery. This is the final proof that one was used here.”

“Gunpowder...” Eldo let the unfamiliar word roll of his tongue. “And what exactly are these weapons?”

“Guns,” said Odo. “The name fits, huh? Me and one of my partners have been developing them in our Research & Development Labs.”

“Why would you develop something to kill people so horribly?” asked Eldo incredulously. “Even you wouldn't sink that far just to turn a profit.”

Odo muttered something inaudible and stared at the floor again.

“You didn't,” Eldo said in disbelief. “Who in Middle-earth were you planning to sell them to, anyway?”

“That doesn't matter,” snapped Odo, with some of his usual haughtiness returning. “What should concern you is that the partner who has been helping me with this project is the same one who was killed by a gun in this very room.”