The Crystal Snowflake Case, Part I: A Pony Detective story

The crew at M&T Pony Detective Agency is back. This time they have a special client to guard.

By N.A. Souer

“She is so elegant!” Mama Kitty said, staring up at the TV on the tack room wall, just beside the sign that read “Welcome to the M&T Pony Detective Agency.”

“I wonder how she stays so thin?” Sasha asked, mesmerized by the image of a petite, white pony effortlessly maneuvering the uneven cavaletti poles.

“You can ask her yourself,” M said, “cuz she’ll be here next week.”

M turned and walked down the barn aisle.

“What!” Sasha exclaimed, leaving the tack room and following M. “Crystal Snowflake is coming here!”

“Yup,” M answered, entering his stall and nosing through paperwork on his desk.

“You can’t be serious?” Sasha pressed, barging into M’s stall. “Why on earth would a top contender for next year’s Olympic Agility team come here?”

“Because as you know,” M explained, “Miss Snowflake needs to compete if she stands any chance to make the team. As talented as she is the strained tendon she had during the last qualifying event lost her points.”

“That still does not answer my question,” Sasha pressed as Tweak, Mousy, and Mama Kitty came around the corner. “Why would she come here?”

“Doesn’t Crystal Snowflake train up at the North Pole?” Mousy asked.

“Yeah,” Tweak said. “I thought she trained up at Santa’s gym in Christmas Town.”

“Usually,” M answered, “but there’s going to be one more Olympic qualifying event, and if she stands any chance to make the national team Miss Snowflake must compete.”

“Exactly what does that have to do with us?” Mama Kitty asked.

“The location of the event has not been released to the media yet,” M explained, “but I got a call from a friend on Santa’s security detail and he said the competition is going to be held here in Minneapolis-Saint Paul.”

“And let me guess,” Tweak said, “your NPSS friends want us to take over the security duty for Crystal Snowflake.”

“You got it!” M said.

In years past, M had worked as a special agent for NPSS, aka the Northland Pony Secret Service. But when his aches and pains started to add up after too many years chasing members of the TB mafia and taking down drug dealers selling narcotics and dirty hay cubes on the show circuit, M decided it was time to retire. Not long afterward M started his own private detective agency with his paddock mate, Tweak, as a business partner.

“The date of the competition is December 22nd,” M said, “and while NPSS can spare a few agents to help us, they need to focus on Santa’s security for the yearly December 24th run.”

“That’s good of them,” Mama Kitty said.  “But what I don’t understand is why Crystal Snowflake needs security at all. Who would want to hurt that dear girl?”

“Apparently someone does not want her to qualify,” M said.  “Our job is to make sure Miss Snowflake is safe when she’s not competing.”

“And how are we supposed to do that?” Tweak asked.

M thought a moment, then said, “Since NPSS wants her to stay at an off-site location, how about the new indoor arena. We can go to the fairgrounds on the days that she competes.”

“Wouldn’t she be more comfortable in a nearby hotel stall?” Sasha asked.

“Maybe, but right now security outweighs comfort, and we have more access control on our own property then we’d have in a public place.”

“But we don’t even have the barn built yet,” Tweak said.  “Where is she going to sleep?”

“We will have to figure out some kind of temporary arrangement,” M said.

Recently M and one of his team had inherited some land which they planned to relocate their detective business to. However, thanks to bureaucracy and red tape, M had only secured a building permit for an indoor arena, and had yet to get one to build an actual barn. The team planned to work out of temporary stalls in the arena if their current stall and office space lease ran out before a new barn could be built.

“What about food and water?”  Tweak asked. “There’s no place to store anything yet.”

“We’re going to have to improvise,” M said.

“When does she arrive?” Sasha asked.

“Friday,” M said. “But her coach and personal assistant will be here on Tuesday to look things over. If they give the okay, then all the agility equipment will be moved in by Thursday so Miss Snowflake can continue to train before the competition.” M turned to Mama Kitty and Sasha. “I’m going to order some temporary stalls and have them delivered,” he said. “Can you girls go over and get things ready?”  M turned to Mousy. “Can you contact the local feral cat colony and see if you can hire some for extra security.”

“What about me?” Tweak asked.

“Get a list together of supplies we’re going to need,” M said. “Put an order in for extra bedding and hay to be delivered to the new place.”

The next week flew by once the new place was approved. On Friday morning a silver trailer limo arrived and a fine-boned, white pony stepped out.

“It’s an honor to meet you Miss Snowflake,” M said. “Welcome to our new arena.”

“Please, call me Crystal,” she said graciously. “You have a beautiful place, and it’s my honor to train here. Thank you so much.”

Once everyone was settled, Crystal Snowflake and her coach conducted the first training session. Meanwhile, M helped Sasha and Mama Kitty clean up after serving lunch.

“Do you think this set-up will work okay?” Mama Kitty asked.

M looked down the far wall of the arena, lined with temporary stalls, with  a huge hay and grain buffet arranged at the far end and all the agility equipment placed in the middle of the ring.

“Yes,” M answered.  “I think you have it organized well.”

“She is so awesome,” Sasha gushed, watching Crystal Snowflake land a perfect dismount off the elevated beam.

M glanced over.

“I used to do stuff like that,” he said.  Sasha looked down at her short, hay pot-bellied boss and rolled her eyes. “Really,” M said. “I was a lean, mean, pony machine when I was in the service.”

Sasha looked down at him again with an annoyed smirk.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?”  Mama Kitty asked.

“At 10:00 a.m. the Olympic committee is holding the trot up presentations for the show vet to inspect all the competitors,” M began to explain. “NPSS will provide agents as bodyguards for Crystal at the show grounds, but after that they have to focus on Santa’s security.”

“So how are we going to get Crystal to the fairgrounds?” Mousy asked, as Tweak approach from the side door.

“The North Pole garage is going to loan us a couple of special transport vans,” M answered. “They are double lined with bulletproof Kevlar steel. Santa uses them in hostile areas of the world.”

* * *

The next morning, Sasha eyed the vehicle with suspicion.

“Are you sure you know how to drive this thing?” she asked, as M harnessed himself in.

“No problem,” M said. “It’s no different than my cart.”

“This is a lot different!” Sasha said. “For one thing, it’s a lot bigger.”

Two hours before a couple of Santa’s reindeer, dropped off two of Santa’s special vans.

“Would you quit worrying,” M said. “The reindeer explained how the special harness works to control the vehicle. It operates just like my cart – I push into the breast collar to go forward, and lean back into the breaching to activate the brake system.” He glanced over at Sasha, then added, “Easy as carrot cake!”

“Think Tweak can handle it?” Sasha pressed.

“Oh yeah, he knows how to drive.”

The plan was for Tweak and Mousy to go ahead as a decoy, then M and Sasha would follow with Crystal Snowflake in their van. M reasoned if the van Tweak and Mousy had was followed they could lead whoever it was in the opposite direction while he and Sasha delivered Crystal to the show grounds.

“How’s it going?” M asked Tweak and Mousy over the special headset he was wearing over his halter.

“Nothing yet,” Tweak replied back.  “We are almost to the freeway.”

“Okay,” M replied back over the radio.  “We will wait 10 more minutes before starting.”

Crystal Snowflake approached.

“I have to say, I’m more than a little nervous,” she said.

“Don’t worry,” M said. “Local law enforcement has been notified of our plan to send a decoy ahead, and NPSS has installed special tracking devices on this van.

* * *

The morning presentation went off without incident, and Crystal Snowflake was approved by the show vet for competition. When they returned to the arena, Mousy spotted something strange.

“Hey M,” he said into his kitty-sized headset. “Did you have any kind of package delivered to the new place?”

“No,” M replied back. “Why?”

“Because we just pulled up, and something is by the door.”

“Wait till we get there,” M replied back.

Mousy and Tweak waited until M pulled in.

“It’s making some kind of sound,” Mousy said.

“Sound?” M asked.

“Yeah,” Tweak said.  “We can hear a ticking sound.”

M turned to Sasha and Mama Kitty. “Stay here with Crystal in the van,” he instructed, “and don’t get out until I signal you.”

“What do you think it is?” Sasha asked.

“Not sure yet,” M said. “I don’t like packages that make noise.”

“You don’t think it’s some kind of explosive?”  Mama Kitty asked with alarm.

“We don’t know yet,” M said. “But just to be safe stay in the van.”

M got out and carefully approached the strange package. Mousy and Tweak followed.

It was an oblong box, with a rhythmic ticking sound coming from inside.

“See what I mean,” Mousy whispered.

“It doesn’t smell like a bomb,” Tweak added softly.

“How do you know what a bomb smells like?” M whispered.

“Well, I don’t.” Tweak said. “But this smells like wood, kind of like the shavings in our stalls. Who’d make a bomb out of shavings?”

M smirked.

Suddenly, the barn door opened wide and a half grown, tabby kitten popped out.

“Cousin Oscar!”  Mousy exclaimed with alarm. “Don’t touch that!”

The tabby kitten popped the cardboard box open then began pawing inside.

“I’ve been waiting for this!” he said with delight. “It’s the coolest new toy, a metronome.”

M breathed a sigh of relief. He was getting too old for this. He motioned to the

girls to come out.

“Oscar!” Mama Kitty scolded once they were safely inside the building.  “You gave us a fright!”

“I’m sorry Aunt Kitty,” the orange tabby said. “How was I to know Cousin Mousy would think my new toy was a bomb?”

“Your cousin works in a very dangerous line of work and he has to be careful.”

M interrupted.

“Now that we have the bomb scare sorted out,” he said, “I think we need to make a plan for tomorrow.”

“Are we going to do anything different?”  Mousy asked.

“Slightly,” M said. “I think we should alternate routes each time. That way if someone is following us, it will confuse them.” He turned to Tweak, and added “Go out on Google Earth and plot multiple routes.”

* * *

The next day M and Sasha watched from the rail is Crystal performed a near perfect routine over the uneven cavaletti poles.

“That has got to give her a qualifying score,” Sasha said, as Crystal exited the ring gate.

“Yeah,” M said, “but remember this is only the first of three events. She still has to score high on the balance beam and her agility routine.”

A few minutes later M felt his cell phone vibrate in his halter pocket. He reached his head down and nudged the call button against his knee. Mousy’s voice came through the tiny speaker.

“Do you know where Crystal went?” he asked.

“We just watched her leave the ring after the pole routine,” M said.

“Well, she didn’t come back to the warm-up area,” Mousy said. “I checked with the gate attendants and they said she was approached by someone dressed as a show steward.”

“Could she be over at the show office?”  M asked

“Tweak just came back from there,” Mousy said.  “No one has seen her.”

“Well she couldn’t have just vanished,” M said. “Is there a separate office for the show stewards?”

“Yeah, over in the main barn,” Mousy said.  “Tweak is on his way over there.”

“Okay,” M said.  “We will head over and meet you there.”

Ten minutes later M, Sasha, Tweak, and Mousy gathered in front of the show stewards’ office.

“The steward supervisor said it’s a rule that a show steward cannot approach a competitor directly,” Tweak said. “They must communicate through the competitor’s coach.”

As Tweak was speaking, Crystal’s coach and personal attendant trotted up, with panic-stricken faces.

“Where have they taken Crystal?” the personal assistant asked.

“Who?” M asked.

“Some gelding dressed in a show steward sheet led her away as soon as she came out of the ring,” the coach added. “We assumed they were bringing her here. There’s a rule they are not supposed to have direct contact with competitors. This is a major violation!”

“Yeah,” Tweak said, “we just learned about that.”

“I don’t like the sound of this,” M said. “Does this place have any kind of camera surveillance?”

“I don’t know,” the coach said. “What about Crystal’s microchip? Can we find her that way?”

“Microchips are only used for identification,” M said.

The coach shook her head.

“No, when all this started back at the North Pole,” the coached explained, “Santa himself approved Crystal to get a special microchip from the NPSS office.”

“What’s so special about a microchip?”  Mousy asked.

“I’m not sure how it all works,” the coach went on, “but it has some kind of experimental tracking system. They gave it to Crystal when there was a possibility she might be kidnapped.”

“Okay,” M said, as he tried to calm the group’s growing panic. “Split up and search the show grounds.  Also, talk to anyone who might have seen Crystal when she left the ring. Meantime I’ll get on the phone with the North Pole branch of NPSS and find out more about this special microchip.”

* * *

An hour later, M sent an urgent group text to his team. The message read, “Return to the steward’s office ASAP.”

When everyone arrived, M led the group to a secluded corner of the barn.

“NPSS says the chip is an experimental, bio dissolvable unit they are developing for Santa,” M said quietly. “This technology is top secret.”

“Why would Santa need something like that?” Tweak asked.

“Apparently there’s always a possibility of Santa being kidnapped in hostile parts of the world, and the tracking feature of this chip would enable NPSS to find him in that type of situation.”

“So can it help us find Crystal?”  Mousy asked.

“At the moment yes,” M said. “The problem is the North Pole techs don’t know how much longer the chip will continue to put out a usable signal. Originally this chip was only designed to last a short time before dissolving into the host’s body. Crystal had the chip injected over 3 months ago, so techs can’t say for sure how long it will give a strong enough signal to track.”

“Is the current signal strong enough?” Mousy asked.

“Yeah,” M said. “They have pinpointed Crystal’s location to a warehouse in South Saint Paul. There’s a team of local NPSS agents on their way to check the situation out.”

“What do we do in the meantime?” Sasha asked.

“I was told our firm is to stand by and wait for further instruction,” M said.

* * *

Unsure what to do next, M and his team returned to the barn. But when they arrived, something was not right.

“What’s that sound?” Mousy asked, looking towards the barn side door as a weird, humming noise came from inside.

“Not sure,” M said, then turned back to Sasha and Mama kitty. “You girls stay here while we check it out”

To be continued… Stay tuned for part II. 

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