A Merry Harper Holiday (John Harper Series)

by Edward Holmes

  A Merry Harper Holiday

  By

  E. J. Holmes

  Text Copyright © 2012 Edward J. Holmes

  All Rights Reserved

  To MARK, my favourite Peppin and the boys of SMHC

  And to all of those serving overseas during the Holidays

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter One

  This was one of those cases you hear about in the newspapers that elicit sympathy and fills space when it has been a slow week. You know the ones that are in small columns right next to the fold in the paper:

  ‘Private Detective returns lost doll in time for Christmas’

  Except there was more to the story than just that and one of my pet hates, they had spelt it Xmas.

  It all started the weekend before Christmas. I was sat behind my desk in my office in Manchester on a road off Piccadilly Gardens near the Northern Quarter. Harris, my employee was off sick or skiving, one of the two, so I was left alone reading another crime novel from the stack I had borrowed at the central library.

  I should have been home convalescing after the incident in Liverpool. To be honest I couldn’t stand staying in the house after the excitement of my last case and although I knew the likelihood of being involved in something as dangerous or as reckless as that was slim, I waited patiently on the off chance someone needed my help. In the end someone did and it was not my usual clientele.

  There was a knock on the glass window of my door. I couldn’t see the shadow of the person which was surprising considering there was usually a lot of light cast by the window on the stairwell. It was a small thing that should have stopped me there and then but often you don’t register these things until afterwards.

  Dropping the book into my open desk and brushing the remains of my sandwich into the bin at my side, I sat upright, “Hello, please come in.”

  The door opened to reveal a little girl, which is so far the most shocking client I’ve ever had. I stood up in two minds; one to shoo her away and tell her off for knocking on my door and secondly noticing that there was no accompanying adult to ask where her parents could be. The brunette child however spoke first in a voice that had just the hint of a lisp and nearly crumpled my heart, “Are you Mister Harper?”

  I nodded, my first thought gone completely at the way she made the Rs in my name sound Ws, “Yes and how can I help you, little one? What is your name, sweetheart, and do you know where your mother is?”

  Stood there in the doorway in a red jacket, with purple trousers and matching wellington boots she stared up at me with hazel eyes before replying, “My name is Felicity Eliza Morgan and my mummy is shopping, mister.”

  “And she’s not noticed you have gone?”

  “I was in the toy store and my brother spilt drink over him, so she went to clean him up.”

  “Okay, when was that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Maybe you should get back to your mummy, or maybe your daddy?”

  “My daddy is a big soldier fighting in the war so I can’t see him, Mister Harper. I want to hire you to find my dolly.”

  So there you have it; that was the invitation to the case that would have me running around Manchester before Christmas. I didn’t want to sound too patronising but I really didn’t see the future in a case like this. Plus there was the matter of a fee; I am supposed to be a business man after all, “I’m sure your dolly is at home, sweetheart. How about we go find your mum she must be worried sick.”

  “No, I know I didn’t leave it at home, it was stolen.”

  “Stolen by whom?”

  “Santa.”

  Now my patience was wearing thin, “Santa stole your doll?” she just nodded. I just rolled my eyes, “I’m pretty sure Santa can make all the dollies he wants. Why would he want your doll, sweety?”

  “Because it’s special. My daddy got it for me, it is Wynter the Season Force hero.”

  Normally I wouldn’t know one toy from another but I knew all about the Season Force toys since the massive demand for the Wynter version made the shortages of Furbys and Cabbage Patch Kids in the Nineties seem like trying a born again Christian in prison. Apparently there was a problem in manufacturing and shipping due to earthquakes or something in the Far East. My personal view was that it was a marketing scam to boost sales and create a clamour for what was just any old toy. This was coupled with a genius move that the toy was only sold at a certain time of the year. The show the toy was from was basically like an advert in itself but there had been a massive campaign even commandeering the epic line from a very good series of books and television show that ‘Wynter was coming’. Only God knew how the girl’s father got his hands on one. If there was any toy that Santa Claus would steal, that would be it. Of course now I was intrigued so I asked, “When did Santa take your Wynter doll?”

  “When I sat on his knee in the shops.”

  The most obvious of Santa grotto booths would be in the Arndale Centre, where every year they would create a large area for the kids to visit the magical, present - giving saint. I was intrigued now and that was always a slippery slope towards me taking a case. What I really needed was a secretary to stop me from accepting jobs like this but there was not enough room in the small office for another desk and that would involve me paying someone else. There were obviously loads of questions to ask the kid but I still felt like I needed an appropriate adult in the room, “Right well let’s go find your mummy and I’ll go speak to Santa to see if he has your dolly.”

  “Okay,” the little one said with a smile on her face. I stood up and put on my charcoal grey woollen overcoat from the old fashioned iron hat stand and shut the door behind me as we walked down the stairs.

  “Just a quick question sweety, how did you find me?”

  Felicity took out a mobile phone from her jacket pocket and raised it up, “I took mummy’s phone and searched on the internets for investigators. I asked a policeman in the shops and he said I should try and find a detective. I didn’t like him.”

  “Right, well that was very clever of you but we need to get you back to your mummy she will be very worried.”

  Chapter Two

  Walking through a busy city centre holding hands with a young child who you don’t know is rather off-putting and to be brutally honest, something I would never want to do again in the current culture. I took Felicity to the security desk at the Arndale Centre, where her mother was waiting anxiously. Lucky for me I knew the head of security at the shopping complex, Jack Dunn, who was just happy the girl was returned safe. Whilst her mother was happily smothering her daughter with hugs and kisses I stood to one side, speaking to my old friend.

  ‘Bloody hell John I thought I had an abduction on my hands; we’ve called in your boys and everything,’ Jack said, obviously relieved. He was a small man and years of sitting behind a desk watching closed circuit television screens at the same time as having a generous discount at the food market had made Jack rather rotund. He had been working there when the bomb had gone off in the Nineties, devastating the area. I was back in the country working a beat at the time for the upcoming European Football Championships and was drafted in to help that day. We ended up spending a great deal of time tog
ether in pretty rough conditions in the aftermath of the explosion, removing the injured and had remained in touch since.

  “You know I’m no longer in the force, Jay. I can’t take any credit for it; the little one turned up at my office door saying Santa stole her dolly,” I said laughing and leaning on the red counter top in the small office reception area.

  Jack rubbed his face and stroked the white moustache he had grown for Movember and had decided to keep, “Not more of this Saint Nick trouble.”

  I could feel my eyebrows rising, “Why, what has been going on mate?”

  Jack sat back down in his well cushioned chair, “I’ve had some problems today with one of the Santas.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah we have two that work in shifts and one of them decided not to come back after his lunch. I’ve had to get one of his elves to take over for the time being. His shift will finish soon and we can sort out something more permanent later. The guy we’ve got working it now aint exactly Santa material.”

  Smiling at him I said, “Surely they can just use you then mate? Get the old red jacket on and a bit more facial hair, you’d be perfect.”

  Most people when teased like that would offer a grin and reply with a joke of their own but Jack was easily one of the nicest and kindest hearted of people I had ever met. He laughed back at me, “That I could, I still have an old outfit from when my kids were younger. You know what it is like around here at Christmas, John, complete bedlam. I’ve got another two lost children waiting to be picked up, three drunks who keep coming back and am currently waiting for another paddy wagon to take a couple more shoplifters away.”

  “Well I can’t do much with that, Jack, but what I’ll do, as a favour to you, is look into this Santa business.”

  “To be honest mate, it doesn’t matter, all I need is another elf for the rest of the week, unless you want some extra work?”

  Nodding to him I sucked my front teeth, “Good idea but I’m not that hard up for cash yet, ask me again next year.”

  “I’ll hold you to that, John. We’ll have a drink after the crazy season is over,” Jack said shaking my hand as he left to deal with more problems. Personally I thought it was about time he retired from the job, considering the stresses it put on him but Jack remained diligent in protecting the stores and people of the centre.

  Watching Jack walk down the clean white corridor I waited until he was out of sight before walking over to the reunited mother and daughter and the small boy who was sat next to them, swinging his feet off the floor as he sat on a plastic chair. The mother had introduced herself earlier as Jennifer and looked up at me, tears of joy still fresh on her face, “Thank you again, Detective Harper.”

  “It’s just plain Mister Harper these days; I’m semi-retired and I’m just happy to help. Your daughter it is a very clever girl.”

  “Oh I know that,” she said lovingly patting the girl’s head, “but sometimes that intelligence can make them a pain in the neck.”

  I nodded like I knew what she was talking about and in some small way I did, being somewhat of a burden on my own parents throughout my childhood, “Felicity came to find me because of her new Season Force doll going missing. She told me it was stolen by a Santa here.”

  “I’m so sorry for this. Flic has such an active imagination. I’m sure she just left her doll in the car or at home.”

  “No, mummy, I didn’t, I had Coffee with me,” Felicity said tugging on her mother’s arm.

  I didn’t want them to fight in front of me so I spoke first, “If it is ok with you ma’am I said I’d help Felicity track it down. I’ll just go ask the Santa if he has it but I’m sure like you said, it is just in the car.”

  Doubting me is something I’m slowly getting over and something about this Wynter Doll case clicked in my head. It getting me out of the office was probably a good thing, even if I was in danger of losing paying clients. Jennifer caught on that I was helping her daughter in some small way and replied, “Well, what can I do to help you out?”

  Chapter Three

  My notebook was out and I had my trusty pen at the ready to listen, “All I need to know Mrs Morgan, is when did you see the Santa? If there are any details that stick out to you please let me know.”

  “We went to see him after having something to eat, so about two o’clock. There was still a queue so it took us a little time to get in there. To be honest I think Santa Claus might not have been feeling well, he looked very thin compared to last year.”

  Noting the tone in her voice I played along and wrote it down. The lack of size of the Santa fitted in with what Jack had said about the helper taking over the role on short notice. I was however a little surprised considering that I had jumped to the conclusion that the man had taken the expensive present early on, and then not returned for his afternoon shift. Maybe the doll was indeed in the car, “Okay well that is a good start. May I ask how your husband got his hands on such a valued present?”

  “Gaz is a good man Detective and a loving father. He is like you a policeman, but in the army.”

  “An MP?” I asked and she nodded back at me. Military Police are despised in the armed forces nearly as much as the regular force is to the general public. I’d had a number of run-ins with them when I was in Ireland.

  “He’s still got a couple of months left on this tour and he knew he wouldn’t make it back home since he is training the Afghanis at the moment. Because he can’t make it back he has gone out of his way to get the best presents he could for the kids. He knew Flic really wanted one of those Wynter dolls and he somehow made a deal with an American to get one. It was shipped over here the other week and we didn’t know what it was so we just opened it. You should’ve seen her face light up, getting such a gift from her dad when he is so far away. It makes it more special than if Santa had delivered it on Christmas day, you know what I mean?”

  “Sure, thank you Detective, it means a lot to Felicity.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be on my way,” I turned to leave but Felicity grabbed my hand.

  “Please Mister Harper, bring back my Coffee.”

  I knelt down and looked the little girl in the eyes trying to be as comforting as possible as I spoke, “I will do my very best Felicity but you have to promise me that you won’t go running off on your mummy again.”

  “I promise,” she said sticking out her hand for me to shake.

  I took the small hand in my palm and smiled at her, “You don’t need to worry. I do have a question for you though my dear.”

  “Okay.”

  “Why did you call your dolly Coffee, I thought its name was Wynter?”

  “Because she smells like the coffee my mummy drinks in the morning.”

  “Well that is very clever. You just go with your mum and this will all be sorted as quickly as possible.”

  “Thank you Mister Harper.”

  Chapter Four

  I left the Morgan family and went out into the busy shopping mall. The place was full of festive cheer and customers, far too many people for my liking. It is times like that, avoiding getting knocked over by militant grandmothers and desperate husbands that I felt blessed by not having that many people in my life to buy for. However there is the depressing matter of how I would be spending my Christmas day. Still I was in good spirits as I made my way towards the giant present that served as the home for the Santa’s grotto.

  Even as the opening hours for the grotto were dwindling there was a sizeable gathering of young children and parents. I walked along the queue to the front and stepped over the small white picket fence. The beauty of the English people meant that no one stopped me but I did get a number of tuts and vicious stares. I was however wearing quite formal clothing and I quickly flashed my old police badge so that people went quiet from their complaints. I went into the reception area of the grotto and stood to one side as a family waited impatiently to see the man of the season.

  One of the two staff members i
n the plastic hut walked over in an ill-fitting green elf costume. Behind him stood a mother and father with their young son waiting patiently to see the department store Santa. He stared at me struggling to put a smile on his face after a long day working with children, “May I help, sir?”

  “Yes you may, I’m Detective Harper,” Not technically a lie, I am a detective after all, “I’m here about the Santa who has gone missing and a Wynter Season Force doll.”

  “A friggin’ Season Force doll in here? You’d be lucky. As for the Santa, that was Winston,” the elf lowered his voice, “He’s a bit of a pisshead. It was bound to happen once he caught a morning shift.”

  “Right well that’s a little annoying but the fact of the matter is a Wynter SF toy has gone missing here and considering how valuable they are at the moment, I think it is rather important that we find it.”

  The man looked at me and sighed, “Is this really what the police do these days, hunt down lost toys?” I didn’t reply but stared back putting a hand on my hip until, he relented, “Fine, just let me put this family through to see the big man and I’ll find out if anyone has seen it.”

  “Thank you,” I wasn’t holding out hope they would be honest enough to admit it if the doll was still there, but one can live in hope. I watched the elf ask the young woman behind the counter, where they took down the information of the people waiting. She shook her head and shrugged to me. I just nodded and watched the elf man lift the plastic partition to allow the family through.

  Less than a minute later I heard the high pitched squeal of a small child and then the yell of a grown man. Pulling the plastic divider to one side, I watched someone dressed as Father Christmas tear his way out of the display through one of the corners. I noted the small boy lying on the floor in tears being treated by his parents and set off after the errant Christmas character.

  Bursting through the giant present like a human jack-in-the-box, I nearly fell arse over tit immediately on the railing around the display. Santa was a good twenty yards away, hastily avoiding the shopping masses.