The Reporting Team's Christmas Mystery Play 2003

Volume XIV

"While you followed me to the vicarage, Mr. Holmes, the Reporting Team snuck up on the house from another direction. I awoke Tregennis and entered the sitting-room via the window. I laid his offence before him and told him I had come both as judge and executioner. The wretch sank into his chair, paralyzed with fear, not noticing as the Reporting Team deployed Shaun via the chimbley. Summoning all his fury Shaun unleashed the Devil's Fart. Holding my breath I swiftly picked him up and leapt to safety, closing the window behind me. In five minutes Tregennis was dead. My God! How he died! But my heart was flint, for he endured nothing which my poor Shaun had not felt before him.

"There is my story, Mr. Holmes. I am in your hands. You can take what steps you like. As has been said before, there is no one living who can fear death less than I do."

Holmes sat for some little time in silence.

"What were your plans?" he asked at last.

"We intended to nurse the Shauns back to health and continue with the website. Our work is but half finished."

"Go and do the other half," said Holmes. "I, at least, am not prepared to prevent you."

Mr. Trehedgehog raised his gaunt figure, bowed gravely, and walked from the room. Holmes lit his pipe and handed me his pouch.

"Some fumes which are not poisonous would be a welcome change," said he. "I think you must agree, Watson, that it is not a case in which we are called upon to interfere. Our investigation has been independent, and our action shall be so also. You would not denounce the Reporting Team?"

"Certainly not," I answered.

"I have never loved a sheep, Watson, (unlike most of the population of New Zealand) but if I did and the sheep I loved was subjected to such a gruesome ordeal, I might act even as our lawless hedgehog has done. Who knows?"

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