Hi. Nathaniel P. Osgood III here. Some time ago I told you about Cinderella. In reality her name was Penelope Mitchell, and I made a deal with her that allowed her to go free after returning the loot she had stolen from the castle. That’s me—good hearted old Nate. Little did I realize at the time that we would meet again. I have to admit she’s a charmer, even if she’s rotten to the core. So I reluctantly must tell you about her latest escapade, thus further disillusioning those of you who want to believe in fairy tales.

    Several months had gone by since I last saw Penelope, and I had put the case out of my mind. However, I hadn’t forgotten about her. There are certain people who are unforgettable, and she was one of them. It was a bright sunny morning in late August, and the heat of the day had not yet seeped through my one and only window. A knock on the door—soft and tentative—brought me out of my daydream.

    "Come in," I said.

    The door opened slowly, but no one appeared. I sat up straight and peered over my desk. It was then that I saw a hat, then another and another. Under the hats were small bearded faces, all registering different looks. One was smiling, one frowning, a third one peering through half closed eyes. There were more, but I didn’t have time to study them. They entered the room as a single body and stood in front of my desk.

    Hiding my surprise I stood up. Then, realizing that I towered over them, I sat back down and motioned to the sofa. "Please take a seat," I said.

    "We’d rather stand," the frowning one said in a voice that matched his demeanor. I shrugged and leaned back in my chair.

    "How can I help you?" I asked.

    One of the little fellows, wearing glasses and a professorial look, stepped forward.

    "I’m Louis Fogelman," he said in introduction. "People call me ‘Doc’. These are my brothers." He indicated the others with a sweep of his hand. One of them had curled up on the couch and was snoring, a strange sound best described as "zzrrkk". Doc frowned. "That’s Jerome. We call him ‘Sleepy’ for obvious reasons. Pay no attention to him."

    I waited for him to continue.

    "We’re miners. We live in the forest a few miles from here."

    "What do you mine?" I asked.

    "Diamonds."

    "Diamonds?" I said. Coal or gold, perhaps. But I never knew there were diamonds nearby. This town is full of surprises.

    "How may I be of service?"

    Doc shuffled his feet and looked at the floor.

    "Tell him," the grumpy one said. "We’ve been bamboozled and we all agreed that we weren’t going to let a pretty face make fools of us."

    "The figure wasn’t bad either," said the smiley one, a leer in his eyes.

    The grumpy one whirled and glared. "Harrumph!"

    Smiley held up his hands. "OK. OK."

    Doc waited until the two others quieted down. With a final look at the grumpy one, he turned back to me. "Well, you see. We returned home from the mine one day in March and found this beautiful young lady in our cottage. She told us that she had fled from her wicked stepmother, who had threatened to kill her because she was jealous of her beauty.

    I nodded. Jealousy was a powerful emotion, all right. Add vanity to the mix and I suppose murder is possible. At any rate, the story was plausible on the surface of it. However, the stepmother angle was a bit suspicious. It was overused, I felt, and made the whole story a little hard to accept.

    "Go on," I said.

    "Well," Doc said after a slight hesitation. "One day when we were at the mine, Snow White had a visitor."

    I held up a hand. "Who?"

    "White. Snow White. That’s the young lady’s name."

    "Phony if you ask me," Grumpy snorted. "Harrumph!"

    I silently agreed, but for the moment I accepted the name.

    Doc cleared his throat and continued. "As I was saying, Miss White received a visitor." He eyed Grumpy warily, but the latter was silent. "We don’t know who the visitor was, of course, because Snow was unable to tell us. But we know someone was there because we found Snow lying on the floor of the kitchen with a partially eaten apple in her hand." He sniffled and wiped his ample nose. "We thought she was dead."

    At this, the others started talking excitedly among themselves, except for Sleepy, who continued to "zzrrkk" on the couch.

    One of the others was gesturing, but nothing came out of his mouth.

    I nodded to the silent one. "Can’t he talk?" I asked.

    Doc smiled. "Sidney? He could up until a few months ago. Then he saw Snow naked and he’s been like this ever since."

    At this, the one who later I came to know as Dopey bobbed his head up and down frantically and grinned wider.

    "Ah choo!" One of the little men sneezed loudly.

    "Bless you," I said

    "Pay no attention to Clarence," Doc said. "Otherwise you’ll be blessing him all day." He smiled and looked at his feet. "Just call him ‘Sneezy’." Pointing to the smiley one, he added, "And this is ‘Happy’. The one hiding behind Dopey is Seymour, but we call him ‘Bashful’." He shuffled his feet. "There are actually eight of us. But ‘Moony’ got into a little trouble and..." He shook his head sadly. "Never mind," he said. "We answer to either name, but it is probably easier for you to remember our nicknames."

    "I see," I said. "Getting back to your problem, what happened to Miss White?"

    "She scammed us!" Grumpy shouted.

    Doc held up his hand. "We agreed that I would do the talking." Turning back to me he went on. "We were, of course, alarmed when we found her. We carried her to the bedroom and tried to revive her…"

    "Mouth to mouth," Happy said, smiling broadly. Again he was silenced by Grumpy with an emphatic harrumph.

    "We couldn’t help her." Doc said ruefully. "She seemed to be breathing, but she did not respond to us."

    "Okay," I said. "What then?"

    "Well," Doc said. "We didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t really dead. So we carried her outside and laid her on the picnic table. We were going to build a nice comfortable bed for her. But before we could a young man appeared from out of nowhere. He claimed he was a prince..."

    "Harrumph. If he was a prince, then I’m the Pope!" Grumpy snorted.

    Doc glowered at Grumpy. "I’m not saying he was. I’m just giving Mr. Osgood the facts."

    Grumpy crossed his arms over his chest and scowled.

Doc turned to me. "You’ll have to forgive Lionel. He’s not feeling well. Something he ate, I guess."

    "Then he must eat it every day," Happy chimed in. "He’s always like that."

    Doc sighed. "Now, Elroy. This is no place to voice our grievances." He turned back to me. "Happy is quite outspoken, you know."

    I smiled as though I understood. "You were saying?"

    Doc scratched his head. "Where was I?"

    "This young prince, or whoever," I said.

    "Oh, yes. This young man came riding up on a white horse, looking like I expect a prince would look. He called himself Lord Trevor from the House of Maxwell. Heir to the throne." Doc shrugged. "We were skeptical, of course. But given the circumstances we were too overcome with grief to think clearly."

    Grumpy harrumphed again. "House of Maxwell!" he spat out the words. "How phony can you get?" He folded his arms and glowered at the floor. "It sounds like a coffee company."

    "Zzrrkk."

    "Ah choo!"

    "Harrumph!"

    The office was beginning to sound like a barnyard. I held up a hand. "So far you have told me very little. Just what is it that happened to make you come to me?"

    "Well," Doc said. "The prince, or whoever he is, went over to Snow and kissed her gently. She opened her eyes and sat up as if she had just been asleep. We were thrilled, of course, but puzzled."

    I understood. "Sleeping beauty awakened by a prince’s kiss. That sounds familiar, but it’s in the wrong story."

    Doc frowned. "I don’t understand."

    "This has been done before," I said. "Did she ride off with the prince?"

    Doc nodded.

    "End of story," I said.

    "Not quite," Grumpy said. "After she left we discovered that our diamonds were missing." He scowled fiercely and kicked at the floor. "Somehow that brazen female what’s-her-face stole our diamonds!"

    "We don’t know that," Doc said.

    They argued back and forth, but I scarcely heard them. The scenario was all too familiar, much like the one at the palace the day Cinderella came to the ball. The MO was the same. I began to wonder if Penelope had struck again.

    "Describe her," I said

    Doc and Grumpy stopped arguing and looked at me. "Who?"

    "Snow White," I said. "What does she look like?"

    Doc gave a lengthy description. While he talked I extracted the ‘Cinderella Caper’ file from my desk and took out the picture. I held it up. "Is this the girl?"

    The little men stared at the picture and talked excitedly. Even Sleepy joined in, pointing and bobbing his head up and down. "That’s Snow!" he said.

    Grumpy harrumphed his loudest harrumph since he entered my office. "Where did you get that picture? Who is she? What has she done?"

    Happy was talking excitedly to Bashful. Dopey was gesticulating, (a legitimate if questionable word). Even Sneezy had quit his sneezing.

    I held up my hand to quiet the hubbub. "Gentlemen," I said. "Please let me explain."

    One by one the voices died down. Sleepy yawned and went back to the couch. The rest of them gathered in a group and eyed me expectantly.

    "This lady is a con artist," I said.

    "I knew it," Grumpy shouted. He turned to Doc. "Didn’t I tell you she was up to no good. Even before she robbed us. Bah! A pair of pretty legs and you guys all go gaga." He crossed his arms and frowned such an intense frown that I thought he would injure his face muscles. Come to think of it, that would have been an improvement.

    "You’ve been swindled, no doubt about it," I said. "Perhaps if you can give me a little more information I may be able to help."

    "Like what?" Doc asked.

    "Describe the prince."

    Doc rubbed his nose. "What’s to describe? He was tall dark and handsome. Aren’t all princes?"

    I could think of a few who didn’t fit the description, but we’re talking fairy tales here, and I didn’t argue with him.

    "He was riding a horse?" I asked.

    Doc nodded. "A white horse."

    "Of course," I said. I would have been surprised if it were any other color.

    "Tell me what happened when the prince, or whoever, came riding up on his white horse."

    Doc thought for a minute. "I’m really not sure," he said. "You see, we were all upset over Snow and didn’t pay much attention to the prince at first."

    "Did he say anything?"

    "Well, it’s like I told you earlier. He told us he was a prince...’

    "Harrumph!"

    Doc turned to Grumpy. "I know you don’t believe it. But Mr. Osgood asked me what he said." Turning back to me, he continued, "He told me that he was Snow’s lover before she disappeared, and he had been looking for her for several months."

    "How did he happen to come to your place?"

    Doc shook his head. "Just lucky, I suppose. But he said that true love would always find itself and that fate had led him into the forest."

    Grumpy exploded. "Fate! Why those crooks planned it all ahead of time. He knew exactly where this dame was all along."

    As much as I disliked it, I had to agree with Grumpy.

    Doc shrugged. "Maybe. But whatever it was, he found Snow. He walked over to her and looked at her for a long time. Finally he leaned over and kissed her."

    "Yeah," Happy said. "On the mouth!"

    Doc waved Happy aside. "She opened her eyes, gazed at the prince for a few seconds, then sat up." He smiled as he recalled the event. "We all thought it was a miracle. Even Lionel was surprised." He nodded toward Grumpy with a slight twinkle in his eye. Grumpy snorted, but said nothing.

    I waited for Doc to continue. Except for Sleepy’s zzrrkking, the room was deathly quiet. Finally he went on.

    "Well, they embraced and we heard the prince say something about finding his true love, and Snow talking about her Prince Charming."

    "It’s enough to make you gag," Grumpy said.

    Doc ignored him. "Then she came over and hugged each of us individually. It was like a movie."

    It all sounded familiar to me, like I may have seen the movie. But I remained silent. Doc shuffled his feet as he fussed with the hat in his hand. "After she told us all goodbye, and that she loved us and all that, she got on the horse with the prince and they rode off."

    "With our diamonds!" Grumpy said.

    "What was the prince wearing?" I asked.

    Doc thought for a moment. "He had on a leather hat with a feather in it. Boots. And velvet tunic and pants."

    Grumpy spoke up. "If you saw Errol Flynn in ‘Robin Hood’, you’ve seen this guy."

    I took furious notes while they talked. Penelope had evidently hooked up with a fellow con artist. I had no idea who he was. But I was pretty certain that I could track them down with a little bit of sleuthing and a whole lot of luck.

    "Gentlemen," I said. "I may be able to help you. Mind you I will make no promises. But with the information you have provided I have a good idea where to look."

    They brightened at that. We agreed on a price for my services and shook hands.

    I heard Sneezy achooing down the hall as they left, as well as an occasional "harrumph" from Grumpy. Throw in Sleepy’s snoring and I could understand why Penelope wanted to get away from the place. Nevertheless, that didn’t justify her thievery.

    People like Penelope do not leave forwarding addresses when they move, so I decided to concentrate on her accomplice. He was definitely not a prince. That meant he had to rent a costume from somewhere nearby. He probably rented the horse as well. There weren’t too many places in the area that rented costumes or horses. I made a list from the yellow pages and started out.

    I struck pay dirt almost immediately.

    "Tall, dark and handsome, you say?" the stable owner asked. "We don’t get very many of them around here. I think I know exactly who you’re looking for." He pulled a file box from under the counter and opened it.

    "March of this year, you say?"

    I nodded.

    Mumbling under his breath, the man fingered the file cards. He extracted one and frowned at it. "This guy was tall and dark. But he sure wasn’t handsome," he said, putting the card back in the file. "Besides, he said he was going to Sleepy Hollow."

    Finally, with a grunt of satisfaction, he pulled a card from the file and laid it on the counter. "Here’s your man," he said. "Pickering G. Mansfield".

    I picked up the card and studied the name and address. "Can you tell me anything about this guy? Was he alone? How did he get here?"

    The proprietor rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "He was alone. Don’t know how he got here. I was in the back room when he rang the bell. He told me he wanted to rent a white horse for a couple of hours. Paid me in cash, up front."

    "Did he tell you what he wanted the horse for?"

    "Yeah," the proprietor said. "He said that he was helping someone play a trick on some friends. He’s an actor, so he said. And he was pretending to be a prince." The proprietor smiled. "Frankly, I didn’t pay too much attention. He was giving me a generous amount for the use of ‘Cairo’. The horse. As long as he brought him back in good shape I didn’t much care why he wanted him."

    An actor. That would explain how he happened to have a costume.

    I thanked the proprietor and left. So far, so good. If the guy was up front about why he wanted the horse, he probably used his real name and address. I had a feeling he didn’t know anything about Penelope or her larcenous ways. I decided to pay him a visit, assuming, of course, that the address was real.

    It was. The man who answered my knock fit the description I had from the dwarves and the proprietor. Although it was almost noon, he appeared in the doorway sleepy eyed and in pajamas. I showed him my private investigator license. He blinked at it for a minute, yawned, and opened the door.

    "Come in," he said. "What’s going on?"

    I unfolded Penelope’s picture and showed it to Mansfield. "Do you know this woman?"

    Mansfield’s eyes widened in recognition and he smiled broadly. "Sure," he said. "That’s Charlene." He frowned. "What’s this all about? Is she in some kind of trouble?"

    "This woman is always in some kind of trouble. Do you know where I can find her?"

    Mansfield scratched his head. "What has she done? And why are you asking me?"

    "It seems that you ‘rescued’ her from the forest a few weeks ago. When she left the dwarves’ place she had something that didn’t belong to her."

    Mansfield snorted. "Is that right? She told me that they were old friends and she was playing a trick on them. Frankly I thought it was a pretty cruel trick. But she was paying me well to do it."

    "Yeah," I said. "The stable owner told me all about it. So I ask you again. Do you know where I can find her?"

    Mansfield eyed me thoughtfully, as if deciding if I were on the level. "Maybe," he said finally.

    "Maybe? Meaning what?" I asked.

    "Meaning I don’t want to be the cause of her getting into trouble."

    "Oh, she doesn’t need your help to get into trouble," I said. I took a twenty dollar bill from my pocket and held it out to him.

    It had the desired result. He took it and folded it into his pocket. "Well, you see," he said. "She had a box hidden under her dress. It was quite heavy, and she told me she would pay me extra if I could take it to her place. It seemed a simple enough thing to do."

    "Do you know what was in it?" I asked, knowing the answer to that question without being told.

    He shook his head. "All I can tell you is that it was quite heavy. I carried it into the house for her. She paid me an extra twenty for doing it."

    "Address?" I said.

    "Don’t know the street number. But I can show you on the map."

    An hour later, armed with a map, I started out to the new digs of Snow White/Cinderella/Charlene/Penelope Mitchell. Who knows how many other names she had.

    She wasn’t happy to see me.

    "It’s you again," she grumbled as she opened the door to my knock. "How did you find me?"

    "You really must be more careful if you are to be successful in the scam business," I replied. Looking around the room, I added. "You have something that doesn’t belong to you."

    "I have a lot of things that don’t belong to me," she said. "Be more specific."

    "How about diamonds?"

    She snorted. "Those little creeps have been to see you, eh? I should have known."

    Those ‘little creeps’, as you so colorfully put it, want their diamonds back."

    "What if I refuse?"

    "That’s not an option," I said. I eyed her for a minute. "This makes twice, Penelope. Or whoever you are. Give me the diamonds and I’ll be on my way. But I won’t be so generous next time. You know the score. Three strikes and all that legal mumbo jumbo."

    She looked uncertain. Finally with a shrug, she pointed to a box on the coffee table. "I’m holding a few back. Payment for my services. I kept house and cooked for those little savages. I put up with that infernal snoring. I was sneezed on and grouched at. And the little guy who wouldn’t talk kept pinching me." She shuddered. "The things I have to put up with in this business. Sometimes I think I’ll go legit"

    "What a novel idea," I said. Still, I had to sympathize with her. She endured a lot with the dwarves. "Take two diamonds."

    "Three," she said.

    I nodded. "This had better be the last time we see each other," I said. "Because next time I’ll have to run you in. I have a license to think about."

    I left her standing forlornly in the doorway. However, I was beyond feeling sorry for her. She’d get over it. Somehow I felt she would be up to her old tricks. Some people never change. As a matter of fact, I hear rumors that Sleeping Beauty isn’t really sleeping at all. I wonder...

Contact the Author - hcozine@yahoo.com