Secret Tales of the Arctic Trails by David Skene-Melvin

Author:David Skene-Melvin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dundurn Press

James Powell

The Dark Elf Master of Crack of Doom

(An original story)

Biographical and bibliographical information about the author will be found at the back of the book.

James Powell, the dean of humorous crime short stories, needs no introduction to aficionados, and it gives us great pleasure to bring back one of the funniest adventures of Acting Sergeant Maynard Bullock, RCMP.

The Dark Elf Master of Crack of Doom

In his heart of hearts Mountie Commissioner MacNaughton admitted to a rush of power whenever he strode out onto the giant map of Canada which dominated the floor of the command bunker snug in concrete in the headquarters basement. But on the evening of December 22 he did not swagger as he stepped from Halifax to Quebec City to Montreal. He paused for a moment at Ottawa to rummage with a finger among the stacks of scarlet discs each bearing the name and serial number of a member of the Force on station there. He found the disc he sought—a slightly off-centre one—and strode northward to Hudson Bay. If he were alone he sometimes paused here to dance a little hornpipe. But not tonight. He had much on his mind and one solemn duty.

The much on his mind involved the deaths in recent weeks of three good friends, the top US, British and Danish intelligence officers in Canada. Lately at their get-togethers MacNaughton had sensed he was being kept in the dark about something, something called Operation Lazy Susan. The winks flying over the ryes and water, the conspiratorial elbows, the sudden snorts of laughter, all excluded him. And this was particularly galling because he knew Operation Lazy Susan must have to do with Canada. But of course he expected to be let in on the secret when they'd had their fill of chaffing.

Then suddenly, one after another, they'd been murdered. MacNaughton felt strongly that a solution to the murders would lead him to the dark secret the three men had taken with them to the grave. To that end he set down the facts in the three cases in “The Commissioner's Corner,” his popular column in The Scarlet Trumpet, the Mountie monthly. Perhaps a challenge to his readers would bring results. Perhaps.

MacNaughton's one solemn duty was another matter. He left Hudson Bay behind him and stepped across the Arctic Circle, coming to a stop at a point on the DEW Line, the Distant Early Warning System of radar installations to detect hostile intrusions from across the Pole. Down there at his right shoe was the most important one-man outpost in the Arctic. The Force called it Crack of Doom, though that was not how it appeared on any map. Bending over, MacNaughton picked up Constable Bart Pitney's scarlet disc. Last night Pitney, a twenty-five year veteran of the Force, had failed to check in by radio. A plane dispatched from Base discovered the outpost deserted. Clearly poor eccentric Pitney had fallen prey to the Northern craves. The Arctic could call like the grave itself

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