THE ADVENTURES OF MR MOJO
Published every Sunday
Mr. Mojo’s heart raced as he absorbed the details of his upcoming detective mission in the serene rural landscape of the South Hams district.
Lady Cottrell, a well-to-do mistress of a sprawling estate nestled on the south Devonian coastline, an area of outstanding natural beauty, had found herself in a perplexing predicament, her majestic statue had mysteriously vanished.
A golden goose, a spectacle that had captivated passers by of her cliff-top residence for two decades. Crafted from a tonne of 9kt gold, was now absent from its customary perch.
7 days of tireless investigations had not yielded a single fruitful lead, and the affluent Lady, determined to see her prized creation recovered, extended an irresistible offer to Mr Mojo and his faithful companions, beckoning them to unravel the enigma.
Mr Mojo never charged for solving mysteries, it was always to lend a paw, though he was teased by an offer of unlimited expenses paid for, beginning with a thrilling helicopter ride from their own coastal abode in the neighboring county, to the grounds of Lady Cottrell’s estate.
Upon arrival the dogged detective double duo wasted no time meticulously focusing on the emediate area surrounding the vacant pedestal where the Golden Goose previously reigned in regal splendor.
Lady Cotterell recalled events leading to the statue’s disappearance.
It went missing last Saturday while I was attending the County show on the neighboring estate. I spent the entire day there, I had entered the giant vegetable competition.
Returning home rather late I retired, and woke early Sunday morning to its unsettling absence.
Mr. Mojo surveyed the immaculate lawn encircling the lonely base of the statue, he noticed a curious absence of any tell tail signs of heavy machinery or vehicle tracks capable of taking it.
He tasked Brooklyn, his magnificent Cousin, an American Staffordshire, and Crook, the finest German Shepherd search dog, with pondering a small nearby lake in search of a leads.
Meanwhile, accompanied by Paris,
his elegant French Poodle girlfriend, and glamorous assistant, Mr. Mojo ventured on to engage in insightful conversations with Lady Cottrell’s estate staff.
And after further exploration of the extended estate, Mr. Mojo found himself harnessing on the intricate details unearthed during his investigation so far.
With thoughts swirling in his mind, they retreated to opulent accommodation, seeking respite and reflection in the lap of luxury. Though Mr Mojo stayed up late fact finding on the Internet.
As early as possible the next morning, he organised a meeting reminiscent of a scene from a Poirot TV mystery, that included Lady Cottrell, the diligent lead investigating officer from the local police, and of course his loyal trio.
Mr Mojo began addressing Lady Cotterell, apparently my dear Lady, you paid around half a million pounds for the commission of your goose, yet a tonne of 9kt gold today is worth closer to £20 million.
I believe its more pawsable to have been cast from bronze, and platted with gold.
Now a week later, its likely the theif would have discovered this disapointing fact, we should be following what the thief might do with a tonne of bronze instead.
I believe the only pawsable method of lifting such a weight without leaving a trace is via helicopter, with simple access aproaching from the sea.
Last weekend the Devon Air Ambulance Trust, a beneficiary of the county show, were in attendence, giving reasonable cover to the noise of helicopters anywhere near the show, or your estate.
On the Internet last night I found an advertisement for helicopter services, and an old advertisement for a scrap metal and smelting service, both from the same address and phone number, only 35 miles along the coast.
But perhaps even more curious, the owner, a Mr D. Slumbat…
But Lady Cotterell couldn’t resist finishing
Mr Mojos sentence…
The dastardly Daniel Slumbat ? He was in the competition, he won with his giant 1 tonne pumpkin, but he wasn’t around to accept his award, I was told due to possible food poisoning.
Mr Mojo continued, Daniel Slumbat’s giant champion pumkin is still parked on the county shows ground, the organiser’s agreed to deal with it in lieu of his sudden apparent ill health.
He couldnt lift a tonne of statue and
a tonne of pumkin.
Lady Cotterell wasted no time in instructing another flight of her own, this time joined by a distinguished Detective Superintendent, and with the four pawed foursome they soared once again along the scenic coastline.
Landing in a close by field, the group marched on foot and paw with purpose and straight through the door of the large rural industrial unit.
Mr Slumbat I presume, DS Gochaman said, you are under arest, with an authoritative tone, as they all braced against the emence heat coming from a burning furnace inferno not far from them.
Arested for what ? Mr Slumbat asked,
in denial.
And with perfect timing, Mr Mojo slid back a huge room dividing door, and to a collective gasp, he had unveiled the elusive statue still in all its glory.
It apears you’ve been caught red hot handed Mr Mojo said, you could even say you’ve cooked your own goose.
Oh Mr Mojo, Lady Cotterell said, thank you, you are brilliant, you have solved it in less than 24 hours, and with unlimited resources you did it with only the cost of 2 short flights. If you ever need to borrow a helicopter to solve a mystery, please just let me know.
And as the pieces of the puzzle had all fallen into place, Crook turned to the magnificent stature of Brooklyn with a smile, and said come on belly copter, let’s soar homeward.
And Paris seized the moment with capturing a snapshot of Mr. Mojo in a triumphant pose beside the reunited gleaming wonder.
Destined to be immortalized in the pages of their adventures scrapbook, testaments to the bond forged through mysteries solved and journeys shared in the tapestry of their remarkable escapades.
