None of these characters are mine and I am not making any money on this.  The story borrows from both JRR Tolkien and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and takes some of its plot elements from “A Study in Scarlet” and “The Hound Of The Baskerville’s” by A. Conan Doyle.

“The Hound Of The Bagginses”

Chapter 1

Being a reprint from the reminiscences of Peregrin H. Took, MD, late of the army medical department

I took my education as a Healer at the University of The Shire and proceeded to go through the course prescribed for surgeons in the Army.  Having completed my studies there, I was duly attached to the Fifth Archer Patrol as assistant surgeon.  They were stationed in Far Harahad at the time and before I could join them, the second Goblin War had broken out.  On arriving, I learned that my patrol had advanced through the passes, and was already deep in the enemy’s country.  I followed, however, with many others who were in the same situation as myself, and succeeded in reaching the patrol in safety and at once entered upon my new duties.

The War brought honors and promotion to many, but for me it had nothing but misfortune and disaster. I was struck on the shoulder by a Goblin arrow, which shattered the bone and grazed the subclavian artery.  I should have fallen into the hands of the murderous Goblins had it not been for the devotion and courage shown by Nob, my orderly, who threw me across a pony, and succeeded in bringing me safely to the houses of healing.

Worn with pain and weak from the prolonged hardships which I had undergone I was left in the care of the finest healers that our service had to offer.  Here I rallied, and had already improved so far as to be able to walk about, when I was struck down by a fever.  For months my life was despaired of, and when at last I came to myself, I was so weak and emaciated that it was determined that not a day should be lost in sending me back to the Shire.

Upon my arrival, I took up residence at The Green Dragon Inn and spent my days in solitude, attempting to regain my health.  Soon my finances were suffering from the cost of staying in the Inn. I determined that I should seek other living arrangements of a less expensive sort.  On the very day that I had come to this conclusion, I was sitting at a table near the bar in the Green Dragon, when someone tapped me on the shoulder and turning around, I recognized an old friend, Fredegar Bolger.

“What ever have you been doing with yourself, Peregrin?” he asked, as we exchanged pleasantries. 

I filled him in on my situation.  I then told him of my plan to seek lodgings of a more affordable sort and he took me by surprise with a suggestion.  “I have a friend who is looking for someone to share lodgings with as a means of curtailing expenses.  I could introduce you to him and perhaps the two of you might hit it off,” Fredegar said.

I was pleased with the suggestion and in such dire financial circumstances that I hardly minded the idea of taking rooms with a complete stranger and so I agreed to meet his friend.  Without further hesitation, Fredegar took me around to meet the hobbit in question who was working late at a nearby laboratory. 

What his line of work was exactly, Fredegar couldn’t say, but he did indicate that his friend worked many late evenings at the laboratory.  When we arrived, we entered one of the rooms and the sight that met my eyes caused me to doubt my intentions.  There, holding a rather large mallet in both hands and beating a dead hobbit with it, was Fredegar’s friend.  I had seldom seen anything like this before and was quite taken aback.  Fredegar hardly seemed to notice and went over to greet his friend as if this sort of thing were commonplace in our quiet Shire.

“Peregrin Took, this is Master Meriadoc Brandybuck,” Fredegar said, introducing us.

Putting down the mallet, Meriadoc grinned at me and took my hand in a very firm grip.  “You are applaud by what you have just seen me doing,” he said, surprising me with his keen sense of deduction.

“Amazing!  However did you deduce that?” I asked.

“Why the look of horror on your face and the complete lack of color in your cheeks,” he explained as if it were nothing of any great note.  “Do not be alarmed by my actions.  The poor blighter was quite dead when I began my experiment, I assure you.”

“Well, then I suppose that it matters little to him,” I agreed.  After that it was simply a matter of a few questions and we had arranged to share lodgings.  Meriadoc had his eye on some very acceptable rooms in the area of Crickhollow.  After seeing them, I was most agreeable to taking up residence there and found the area to be quite pleasant.  It seemed the sort of place where I could get the much-needed rest that was prescribed for me.  We entered into an agreement with the landlady, Miss Cotton, and that is how I came to live with Meriadoc Brandybuck.

Things were quiet enough at first and I had little to complain about save for Meriadoc’s rather odd habit of playing the violin at all hours of the day and night.  I am very fond of music and enjoy a well-played violin.  Sadly, my new companion had no musical talent and I was loath to tell him this.  I endured his attempts at playing for the sake of our newfound friendship and put in a supply of cotton with which to plug my ears during his bursts of musical activity.  I would close my door and immerse myself in a good book with the cotton firmly in place while Meriadoc played violently on his instrument.  I also used this technique when he played the violin.

I noticed very little else odd about my flat mate save that he had a constant stream of unusual visitors during all hours of the day and night.  We were constantly knocked up at odd hours by ill-dressed hobbits wanting a word or two with my companion.  On other occasions, hobbits of the noblest station, quite obviously of the gentry, would come around for a word with Meriadoc.  I was very curious as to what it was my companion did for a living.  I was sure it had nothing to do with violin playing, but beyond that, I really had no guess at all.

One afternoon, Meriadoc was playing with his instrument, when there came a knock at our flat door.  Noting that my friend was indisposed, I took it upon myself to answer the door and there before me stood a rather nervous-looking gentleman.  “Please, sir, is this the residence of Mister Meriadoc Brandybuck?” he asked, holding his hat in his hands.

“Why, yes it is,” I replied.  “Please do come in and have a seat.  I will tell him that you are here.”  I then remembered my manners and asked, “Whom shall I say is calling?”

“The name’s Samwise Gamgee, sir and if you please, do tell Mister Brandybuck that I am here on a rather urgent matter,” he answered.

I returned a moment or so later with Meriadoc and was preparing to leave and eavesdrop near the door when my companion surprised me by saying, “Why don’t you join us, Peregrin.  I am very sure that if you don’t, you will simply eavesdrop on our conversation anyway.”

Again I was shocked by his powers of deductions.  “However did you know that I would do such a thing, Meriadoc?”

“Elementary, my dear Took,” he said, smiling.  “You are a very loud breather and seldom close the door well enough.”

Glad not to have to eavesdrop, I took a seat near the fireplace and listened as my friend began.  “Now, tell me, Mister Gamgee, how can I be of service to you?”

“Well, sir, I’ve come about an urgent matter concerning my employer, a Mister Frodo Baggins,” he said.

“Ah, please do continue, Mister Gamgee,” Meriadoc said, leaning back in his chair and lighting his pipe.

“Well, sir, my employer, Mister Baggins, has recently inherited a rather large Smial from his uncle,” Samwise said.

“Yes, yes, the Baggins fortune,” Meriadoc said.

“That’s astounding!” I said.  “How did you know that?”

“Well, it was in all the papers, Mister Took,” Samwise answered before Meriadoc could, but I still found it amazing.

After a slight pause during which I felt that both Meriadoc and Samwise were regarding me with disdain, our guest continued.  “You see, Mister Brandybuck, my employer is too frightened to come to you on this matter himself and so I have come in his stead.  Along with the fortune that his uncle left him, he has inherited the family Smial.  He also believes that he has come under a terrible curse.”

“Yes, I suspected as much,” Meriadoc nodded.  “You would not have come were the circumstances not dire.”

“No, indeed, sir,” Samwise said.  “You see my employer is in fear of his life.”

“That’s terribly,” I said, needing to add something to the conversation.

“Has he been threatened?” Meriadoc asked, leaning toward Samwise.

“Not in the way you mean, Mister Brandybuck,” Samwise replied.  “He fears the curse.”

“I thought as much,” Meriadoc said.  “Do tell us of the curse, Mister Gamgee and please try to speak in simple terms so that my associate, Mister Took will understand it.  I do not wish to have to repeat it all again after you’ve left us.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but before I could ask, Mister Gamgee continued.  “Well, Mister Frodo Baggins’s Uncle Bilbo Baggins was killed by the curse and that is how Mister Baggins came to inherit his uncle’s wealth.  You see, Bilbo Baggins was killed by the Hound of the Baggins while out walking in the woods near his home.”

“Has Mister Baggins notified the authorities?” Meriadoc asked.

“He did, but the Sheriff that they sent out, accused Mister Baggins of being a nut case and so my employer thinks that it is highly unlikely that the authorities are looking into the matter,” Samwise said. 

“I should have surmised that very thing myself,” Meriadoc agreed.

“That is amazing, Meriadoc!” I said.  “How would you have known that?”

“Elementary, my dear Took.  If the authorities think that Mister Baggins is a nut case then they are very unlikely to take what his says seriously.  In point of fact, they are very likely to disregard it altogether,” he said.  He then looked intently at Mister Gamgee and asked, “Is he?”

“Is he what?” Mister Gamgee asked.

“Is Mister Baggins a nut case?” Meriadoc asked.

“Of course not!” Mister Gamgee said in an offended tone.  “Why Mister Frodo Baggins is the finest hobbit that I have ever known.”

“Have you known many hobbits?” Meriadoc asked.

“What has that to do with anything?” Samwise asked.

“No matter, Mister Gamgee,” Meriadoc sighed.  “I shall take your word on Mister Baggins’s state of mind.  Please, do continue your narrative.”

“Mister Baggins family has been under a dreadful curse for several years Mister Baggins's father was drown in the Brandywine River by the very hound of which I speak, “ said Mister Gamgee.

“Do you mean to say that a great dog drown Mister Baggins’s father?” I asked.

Samwise sighed deeply and said, “Yes, I believe that is exactly what I just said.”

“Well, no, not really, before you said, Mister Baggins own father was drowned in the Brandywine river by a the very hound of which I speak.  That isn’t altogether the same,” I informed him.

“Does he have to be here?” Samwise asked, looking at Meriadoc.

“I am afraid so,” Meriadoc said.  “Now, do continue.”

“Many years ago, the Baggins were cursed by a vindictive old wizard,” Samwise said.  “This wizard, known as Gandalf the Grey, cursed the Baggins family to live in fear of a dreaded hound from hell.  He said that one by one all of the Baggins males would die and so far, they have.”

“It would seem that the curse is working,” Meriadoc agreed.

“That old wizard said that each of them would be killed by a terrible hound,” Samwise said.  “That is the curse that Mister Frodo Baggins fears for he has heard the evil beast howling in the night every night since he took up residence in his uncle’s home.”

“I use cotton,” I said.

“You use cotton for what?” Samwise asked.

“I stuff it in my ears and then I don’t hear anything that might disrupt my sleep,” I said.  “You should have Mister Baggins get some cotton for his own ears and then the hound would trouble him no further.”

“That would hardly be the end of the curse,” Meriadoc said.  “Just because you can no longer hear a thing, it doesn’t mean that it is no longer there.”

“That is really quite brilliant, Meriadoc,” I said, impressed.  “I suppose cotton wouldn’t work well at all for this situation.”

“No, I doubt that it would,” Meriadoc said.  “Perhaps I should come to Mister Baggins’s smial and speak with him myself, for a very large fee of course.”

“If you can help him then I am sure he would be happy to pay anything that you might ask, Mister Brandybuck,” Samwise said, standing.  “I shall tell him that you are willing to take on this case and that you will put an end to this foul curse.”

“That’s expecting rather a lot isn’t it?” I asked.

“No matter, Peregrin,” Meriadoc said, standing to walk Samwise to the door.  “I am on the case now, and all will be revealed in time.  One has merely to follow where the clues lead to solve the mystery.  In my capacity as a consulting detective, I have solved many a difficult case.”

“Oh, so that is what you do for a living,” I said.  “You are a difficult case solver!”

Meriadoc and Samwise rolled their eyes and went to the door.  I, on the other hand, was very pleased with myself for finally having figured out what Meriadoc does for a living.  I knew that he was not a violin player and I was very glad to have been proven correct.

After Samwise left, Meriadoc instructed me to pack some things for both of us while he finished playing with his instrument and so I set to packing.  He had invited me to accompany him and so this would be my first case with the difficult case solver, Meriadoc Brandybuck!  It was very exciting.

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Chapter 2

Being the writing of Peregrin Took, MD

We left our flat in Crickhollow later that evening and made the journey to Hobbiton and to the family smial of the Bagginses.  It was noon the next day when we arrived and Samwise led us into the parlor to wait for Mister Baggins.  It was a very large room with a lovely fireplace and a great many books.  We sat in two chairs by the fireplace.

Mister Baggins entered the room looking very nervous and very pale.  Even I, who am hardly trained in the act of deduction, could tell that he had not slept well in several nights.  We stood to greet him and he extended his hand to Meriadoc.  “Mister Brandybuck, I thank you and your colleague for coming,” he said.  “Please do sit down and make yourselves comfortable.”  He turned to Samwise who had followed him into the room and said, “Please have some tea brought in for our guests.”

As Samwise left to see to our tea, Mister Baggins sat down across from Meriadoc and said, “I am afraid that my employee has brought you all of this way for nothing, Mister Brandybuck.”

“Has he?” Meriadoc said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, you see, I do not believe this talk of curses,” Mister Baggins said.  “In fact, I have never believed it.”

“Then what keeps you awake nights?” Meriadoc asked.

“I suppose it is the strangeness of a new home and sadness over the death of my dear uncle,” Mister Baggins replied.  “I was very close to my uncle, Bilbo.”

“A pity that you had to lose him,” Meriadoc said, sympathetically.

“His death was a tragedy,” Mister Baggins said, touching his handkerchief to his eyes.

“I can see how upset you are,” Meriadoc said.

“You can?  How?” I asked, eager to learn all that I could about this case-solving business.

“He has been crying, my dear friend,” he answered me.  “You will note the handkerchief with which he wipes his eyes which are already red.  I merely surmised that it was the loss of his uncle that had affected him so.”

“Astounding,” I murmured as Mister Baggins stared at me for a moment.  I must learn to deduce what others are thinking when they do that.

“My dear employee, Mister Gamgee has been with me for years now and I am afraid that he worries far too much about me,” Mister Baggins said.  “He is also too quick to offer my money to strangers on my behalf.”

“I see,” Meriadoc said.  “If my fee troubles you, then perhaps we should leave.  I am sure that you have no reason to fear that a large, evil hound from hell will cause your death.  You are wise to keep your money, Mister Baggins.  There is but a small chance that you will meet the same fate at your uncle or your father.”  He stood and smiled at me.  “Come Peregrin.  It seems that our services are not needed.  We will return to Crickhollow at once.”

I got up to go, but Mister Baggins put a hand on Meriadoc’s arm and said, “Wait.  I may have spoken a bit too quickly.  I do admit that I have heard a dog howling in the night, but surely this is a coincidence and nothing more.  Surely there can be no curse on my family.”

“I can see that you do indeed believe in the curse Mister Baggins,” Meriadoc said.  “I see also that you long to have the mystery solved, but fear its outcome.  I see that you are hesitant to part with even a small amount of your fortune, but I also know that your peace of mind is dear to you and you shall have none until this matter is solved.”  He looked over to the doorway and smiled.  “I see that tea is served.”

“Amazing,” I said, as a serving lass came in and sat a tray down on the table and began to pour.  I am never sure how he knows these things, but I have come to respect Meriadoc’s skills of deduction over the years.  Tea was indeed being served just as he had said it would be and now I was left to wonder if we would be having any.

Mister Gamgee came into the room then and spoke to Mister Baggins.  “I know that I should have asked you before consulting with Mister Brandybuck, but please allow him to help you.  I don’t want you to suffer the same fate as your uncle.  No hobbit should die like that.”

“How did he die?” I asked.

“He was attacked by the hound,” Samwise said.  “His throat was torn out and he bled to death out in the woods just behind this very smial!”

“Did they find the beast?” Meriadoc asked.

“No,” Mister Baggins answered, softly.

“Then I should remain in doors if I were you, Mister Baggins.  Come Peregrin,” Meriadoc said, and I reluctantly turned to leave the lovely tea behind along with some very inviting cakes.

“Wait, Mister Brandybuck,” Mister Baggins said, suddenly.  “Perhaps it would be only reasonable to have you and your associate stay for a few days.  You could have a look around and check into this matter for me.  I do not believe that there is a curse, but there is no escaping the fact that my uncle was attacked and killed in the woods behind this very smial.  I would be grateful for any light that you might shed on the matter.”

“I will do as you request, of course Mister Baggins, but I must insist that my fee be paid up front,” Meriadoc said.

“I suppose that can be arranged,” Mister Baggins agreed.

“Why do you want him to pay you before you’ve solved the mystery?” I asked.

“Why elementary, my dear Peregrin,” Meriadoc said.  “In case he is killed before I solve the case of course.”

Mister Baggins looked stunned by this and so Meriadoc was quick to add, “It hardly ever happens but it is very awkward to try and get payment for services from the next of kin, Mister Baggins.  This will simply make my job much easier and be of less trouble to your relations should you depart before I have unraveled this mystery.”

“Yes, well, I shall see to your fee after we’ve had our tea then,” Mister Baggins said.  He didn’t sound too pleased, but it really didn’t matter to me.  We were staying to tea and that was the important part of all of this.  We all sat down again and while Meriadoc and I ate a great deal, Mister Baggins began to tell Meriadoc and I about the Baggins family curse.

“Some years ago, my dear uncle had the misfortune to insult a very powerful wizard known as Gandalf the Grey,” Mister Baggins began.  “You see, Gandalf the Grey had made some travel arrangements for my uncle without his knowledge.  He had invited a rather uncivilized group of Dwarves to come by this very smial and had led them to believe that my uncle Bilbo would accompany them on an ill-conceived journey to recover some property, which had been stolen from the dwarves.  My uncle had not agreed to go on this journey and had no intention of doing so.  When the dwarves arrived they behaved quite shabbily.  Then broke a great deal of crockery and made quick work of eating my uncle’s entire supply of provisions.  In short, they left this smial in a state of disarray and left my uncle with the task of cleaning up everything.  They were not at all pleased by Bilbo’s refusal to go with them and they must have reported as much to the wizard.”  Here he paused in his narrative to have some of the tea and cakes.  He then continued.  “The wizard came by uncle Bilbo’s smial later.  He was very drunk when he arrived.”

“Your uncle was a drinker?” I asked, smiling.  I have a few relations that are tosspots and so this was hardly anything new to me.

“No, not my uncle, the wizard was drunk,” Mister Baggins said sounding irritated. 

“So the wizard was inebriated,” Meriadoc said, urging him to continue.

I had to ask all the same.  “He was what?”

“Inebriated, my dear fellow,” Meriadoc sighed.  “It is another way of saying that he was drunk.”

“Oh,” I replied.

“The wizard was very drunk and Bilbo shouldn’t have opened the door to him, but he did out of a long-standing friendship,” Mister Baggins said.  “He let the wizard in hoping to reason with him, but sadly, the wizard was far too angry and far too drunk to be reasoned with.  He threatened my uncle.  He told him that if he did not go with those dwarves that he would put a curse on the Baggins family.”

“Your uncle, of course, refused to go with the dwarves,” Meriadoc said.

“How would you know that, Meriadoc?” I asked in wonder.

“Elementary, my dear Peregrin.  If Mister Baggins’s uncle Bilbo had gone with the dwarves then the wizard would not have cursed the family,” Meriadoc said, smugly.  “It therefore stands to reason that Bilbo Baggins did not go with the dwarves because the family is indeed cursed.”

“You astound me,” I admitted.  For some reason Mister Baggins rolled his eyes at this.

“Pray, do continue, my good fellow,” Meriadoc encouraged Mister Baggins.

With one more rather rude look at me, Mister Baggins did continue.  “The wizard pounded his staff on the floor of the smial and a great light shot forth from the top of the staff and hit my uncle Bilbo in the eyes.  The wizard then spoke these words, ‘I curse you Bilbo Baggins!  I curse you and all of the silly Bagginses that follow in your line.  May all of them meet their deaths in untimely fashions.  I curse you all to die, having the flesh torn from your throats by a great evil hound from the very bowels of hell!’  He then passed out cold on my uncle’s kitchen floor and when he came to, he insisted that he didn’t remember any of it.  He refused to remove the curse and even denied that there was one.  I suspect that Bilbo forgot all about it as well right up until that hound torn out his throat in the woods.”

“What about the death of your father?” Meriadoc asked.  “Was he not killed by the curse?”

“We aren’t completely sure,” Mister Baggins admitted.

“You aren’t sure if your own father is dead?” I asked.

“We know he’s dead, Mister Took,” Mister Baggins sighed.  “We simply do not know if it is part of the curse.”  He disregarded me and looked back at Meriadoc as folks often do.  “My father drown in the Brandywine River, but when they found his body two days later, his throat had been eaten away.  They aren’t sure if the hound did this, or if it was some other animal after his death.”

It was very hard to finish my cake after that statement, but I did manage to do so.  When spending time with a difficult case solver like Mister Brandybuck, one must develop a strong stomach or one is likely to miss a great many meals.

“So no one knows if the hound has struck once or twice,” Meriadoc said, thoughtfully.

“No,” Mister Baggins admitted.  “My mother also drown that same night, and she was found without any marks on her at all.”

“Goes perfectly well with the curse as she was not originally a Baggins nor was she a male,” Meriadoc deduced.

“How can you know that?” I asked.

‘No one’s mother is a male, Peregrin,” Meriadoc said, smiling.

“No, I know that.  I mean how can you know that she wasn’t a Baggins?” I asked.  “This is the Shire and a great many hobbits are married to their cousins.”

“Oh, yes, I do see your point there,” Meriadoc said.  “Was she a Baggins before marriage, Mister Baggins?”

“No, she was not,” Mister Baggins replied.  “She was in fact, a Brandybuck.”

“Well, I do have a great many relations,” Meriadoc smiled.  “As there is no curse on my family, then I shall assume that she merely died because she was with a Baggins who was under the curse at the time.”

“I still do not believe this curse,” Mister Baggins said.  “I do believe that I am in danger and that someone wishes me dead, but I am not completely convinced that it is due to any curse.”

“You fear that you are the target of such because of your vast fortune,” Meriadoc said.

“How do you know he has a vast fortune?” I asked, once again, amazed.

“He dresses well, lives in luxury, has employees to do his labor, has just inherited this smial and all of his uncle’s wealth, and he can afford my fee,” Meriadoc said.  “It is elementary, Peregrin.  But now, we must see the scene of the crime.  There is much work to be done.”

“The scene of the crime?” Mister Baggins frowned. 

“Yes, I shall need to see where your Uncle’s body was found, Mister Baggins,” Meriadoc said, standing.

“Of course,” Mister Baggins agreed.

“I think it would be best if Mister Gamgee were to show Mister Took and myself where your uncle was found,” Meriadoc said.  “You should remain inside until we are sure who it is that is responsible for this.  We do not know if this is the work of an evil wizard’s curse or merely the work of someone who holds a grudge against you and your uncle.”

“I will instruct Mister Gamgee to take you to the place where they found Bilbo,” Mister Baggins agreed.

“While we are about that, please see to my fee,” Meriadoc said, handing Mister Baggins a bill.  “This will cover the expenses to this point.  I work much better knowing that insignificant issues such as my fee are settled.  In this way I am not distracted from the task at hand.”  He then looked over at me and said, “Come Peregrin, the game’s afoot.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was late afternoon now and there was a slight chill in the air as Meriadoc and I set out to see the place where Bilbo Baggins had met his untimely fate.  Samwise Gamgee had been quite agreeable when Mister Frodo Baggins had requested that we be shown the location where Mister Bilbo Baggins had been found.  He also thought that Meriadoc’s suggestion that Mister Frodo Baggins remain in doors was very prudent.  I followed along behind Meriadoc as Samwise led us into the woods behind Bag End, the home of the Bagginses for several generations.

“This spot here is where they found him,” Samwise said, stopping suddenly and causing me to run into Meriadoc.  I quickly pulled back, but not before bumping my nose on Meriadoc’s shoulder blade in a rather painful way.  As I stood there rubbing my nose, Samwise continued.  “It was just after dawn and Mister Frodo Baggins and I both heard this dreadful scream from outside of the smial.  I was in the kitchen seeing to breakfast and Mister Baggins came running into the kitchen.  He looked at me and said, ‘Did you hear that?’ and I told him that I had heard it.”

“Let me interject something here, Mister Gamgee,” Meriadoc said.  “I thought that Mister Frodo Baggins didn’t live here until after his uncle’s death.”

“Oh, he didn’t but he was here often enough for visits,” Samwise explained.  “He was visiting when this happened.”

“Ah, continue,” Meriadoc said.

“Well, as we were both already here in the kitchen, we decided to get our cloaks and go and have a look around,” Samwise explained.  “Neither one of us gave a thought to the screamer being Mister Bilbo Baggins.  We both thought that he was still asleep.”

“Another point, Mister Gamgee,” Meriadoc said.  “You have stated that you are in the employee of Mister Frodo Baggins.”

“That’s so,” Samwise said.

“Then why were you starting breakfast in Mister Bilbo Baggins’s kitchen?  Had Bilbo Baggins no kitchen staff of his own?” Meriadoc asked.

“Oh, he did indeed, sir, but I am an early riser and Mister Bilbo Baggins’ s cook is my sister, Marigold,” Samwise said.  “I had hoped to help her out a bit while Mister Frodo Baggins and I were visiting.  You see, she was recovering from a very bad cold and I thought it would do her some good to sleep in.”

Ah, continue,” Meriadoc said.

I was trying to follow all of this but frankly I was getting the Bagginses quite confused in this tale.  “Excuse me, but for the sake of clarity, would it be possible to refer to Mister Bilbo Baggins as the dead hobbit and Mister Frodo Baggins as the live hobbit?  I am getting all of these Bagginses crossed up in my mind so that I hardly know which is which,” I said, reasonably enough.

Samwise Gamgee looked appalled at this request.  He turned several shades of red and fisted his hands at his sides.  He even took a step toward me as if he meant to strike me though I can’t imagine why.  Meriadoc stepped between us and said, “Why don’t we simply use first names for the narrative.  I think that would suffice.  Bilbo is the victim and Frodo is the nephew who is now searching along with Samwise for the source of the screaming.”

“That is a capital idea, Meriadoc,” I said, pleased to have all of the Bagginses sorted out properly.

Samwise muttered something under his breath that sounded distinctly like the word idiot, but I couldn’t be sure and so I didn’t mention it.  The poor fellow was so worked up that I thought it best not to bring up the fact that he was talking too softly.  If need be, I was sure Meriadoc would mention it to him.  As it turned out, he continued in a much louder tone.  “Frodo and I searched the areas closest to the Smial first before entering the woods.  We might not have gone into the woods at all except we thought that we could see someone moving about just beyond the trees.”

“So you saw someone, both of you?” Meriadoc asked, leaning toward Samwise.

“Yes, Mister Bag, er, Frodo saw it first and he pointed and called to me and I looked over and saw something moving.  I couldn’t say who or what it might have been, but something was in those woods that morning,” Samwise said.

“So, you and Frodo went into the woods then?” Meriadoc asked.

“Yes, we both ran into the woods in the direction of what we had seen,” Samwise said.  “We thought that someone was in trouble or injured from the sound of that scream and so when we noticed the movement, we thought that we had found the one who was screaming.”

“Ah, then if never occurred to you that you might have seen the attacker?” Meriadoc asked.

“I thought we were using Frodo and Bilbo,” I said.  “Who is the attacker?”

“The attacker is the person or animal responsible for Bilbo’s death,” Meriadoc said, a bit snippily.

“Oh, well then so there is something else to sort out,” I sighed.  This was a very confusing story all around.

“Please continue,” Meriadoc said to Samwise.

“Frodo and I never gave any thought to who it was that might be out there in the woods,” Samwise admitted.  “I suppose that we were in danger and didn’t even know it at the time.  We just ran into the woods and that is when we found Mister B, er, Bilbo.”

“Describe that for me if you please and spare no details,” Meriadoc instructed.

Samwise gave me a look before beginning and then he said, “I reached Bilbo’s body first with Frodo only a step behind me.  I would have spared him the sight of his dear uncle if I had been able to, but there wasn’t time.  There Bilbo was, lying on his back on the ground with blood all over his chest.  His eyes were wide open and his face was frozen in terror.”

Meriadoc raised an eyebrow at this remark.  “Are you quite sure that it was terror you saw in his expression and not something else?”

“I am very sure, Mister Brandybuck,” Samwise said firmly.  “The poor old hobbit was terrified.  Whoever or whatever it was that killed him scared him nearly to death.  I have never seen a more horrified look on a hobbit in all of my life.  His jacket was torn at the sleeves and his hands were covered in blood also.  He was covered in his own blood.” 

“Are you sure that all of the blood was his, Samwise?” Meriadoc asked.  “Is there any chance that he might have injured his attacker?”

“I doubt it,” Samwise said.  “You see Bilbo had been drinking that evening.  He had been upset about something for weeks.  It was why Mister F, er, Frodo was visiting.  Bilbo sent for him.  He said that he was worried about the curse.  He wanted Frodo to come to Bag End because he felt that he needed to warn him before it was too late.  Frodo didn’t think too much of the curse.  I believe that he was worried about his uncle’s health.  He thought that old Bilbo might be losing his mind.  I guess we all know now, that wasn’t the case at all.”

“No, it would seem that Bilbo was worried with good reason,” Meriadoc said.  “Why had he been drinking?”

“Well, he had trouble sleeping those last weeks.  Marigold told me herself that Bilbo drank most nights.  He would take a bottle of his family’s own wine to his room and drink until he passed out.  Frodo had tried to talk him out of drinking that night, but it did no good.  Bilbo took a bottle of the old Winyards to his room that night just like he had been doing and closed the door behind him.  We thought he had done what he always did and drank until he passed out,” Samwise said.

“But if he did drink until he passed out, then how did he come to be in the woods at dawn?” Meriadoc asked.

“That bothered us too,” Samwise admitted.

“We are left with several intriguing possibilities,” Meriadoc said.  “What are your thoughts, Peregrin?”

I was startled to be asked anything at all, but I plunged ahead gamely.  “Well, Bilbo certainly would have drank himself to death even if something hadn’t killed him so maybe it was all for the best.”

“All for the best!  A dear old hobbit dies a horrible death and you stand there and say that it was all for the best?  Bilbo Baggins gets his throat torn out and dies in utter terror and you have the nerve to stand here on the very spot of his final moments and say that it was all for the best?” Samwise yelled.

“Well, that might have been a poor choice of words on my part,” I admitted.  “Perhaps what I should have said is simply, I have no idea, Meriadoc.  Would that have been better?”

“That would have been closer to the truth, my friend,” Meriadoc said.  “I suspect that there is far more at work here than some wizard’s curse.  Bilbo Baggins was murdered and the manner in which he came to be here in these woods is of great interest to me just now.  I think that if we can discern how he came to be here, then we shall be close to finding his killer.”  He looked over at Samwise who was pacing in a circle and smacking himself in the forehead and asked.  “Were you aware of any enemies that Bilbo had other than this wizard?”

“Why Bilbo Baggins was a bit of a character here in Hobbiton, Mister Brandybuck,” Samwise said, calming down a bit.  “Lots of folks thought him rather odd.  I suppose that he did have his share of enemies when it comes to it.”

“I shall examine the area around here where his body was found and then I should like for you and Frodo to supply me with a list of the names of Bilbo’s enemies,” Meriadoc said.

“What should I do while you are examining the area, Meriadoc?” I asked hoping to be of some small assistance to him.

“Just stand very still and try not to offend Samwise, Peregrin,” Meriadoc said.  “I am not sure that I can keep him from injuring you if you should say anything else that he finds offensive.”

I nodded.  With that, Meriadoc dropped to the ground and removed a small magnifying glass from his vest pocket.  He began to crawl about taking note of everything within the area as Samwise and I watched in fascination.  It is remarkable to observe Meriadoc as he searches for traces of evidence.  Nothing escapes his keen eye.  No stone is left unturned, no corner unsearched!  I am indeed in the presence of one of the greatest minds that the Shire has ever known.  We wait in silence, anxious for what he may tell us of the murder of Bilbo Baggins.

Finally just as my patience was nearly exhausted, my companion regained his feet and turned to us.  “Mister Baggins was not alone when he breathed his last.”

“The hound?” Samwise asked.

“There may have been a hound here my good fellow, but there was also another hobbit,” Meriadoc said, holding up the stem of a broken pipe in one hand and a complete pipe in his other.  “One of these two pipes is most definitely Mister Bilbo Baggins own, but the other is that of the second hobbit.”  He walked to his and handed the evidence to Samwise.  “I surmise that the broken pipe is Bilbo Baggins’s and that in his terror he bit the end completely off of it.  The second pipe must have belonged to the second hobbit, who must have dropped it when he fled the scene upon seeing you and Frodo Baggins approaching.”

Samwise looked at the evidence and then at Meriadoc.  “But what of the hound?”

“Oh, I don’t think that hounds smoke,” I offered, eager to be of some help to Mister Gamgee.  Deduction can be very tricky and I, though new to it all, had a bit more experience that he.  “They can hardly light them and they’ve no pockets to carry them in.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that the hound was smoking a pipe, Mister Took!” he raged.  “I was asking if there had been a hound here at the location of Mister Bilbo Baggins’s death.”

“There was an animal in this area and perhaps it was here on that morning, but the amount of time which has passed since the murder leaves it to us to speculate as to when the beast was here,” Meriadoc said, taking out his own pipe and lighting it.  “The important discovery in all of this, my dear fellow, is that another hobbit was here with Mister Baggins.  The second pipe is proof of this, for no hobbit has reason to carry two pipes with him.” He chuckled at this.

“I do,” I responded, pulling a pouch from my coat pocket.

“You do what?” Meriadoc asked.

“Why I carry two pipes with me,” I said.  I pulled them from my small bag.  “I keep a treasure or two near my skin, as precious as Rings to me.  Here’s one; my old wooden pipe.  And here’s another; an unused one.  I have carried it a long way, though I don’t know why.” (Flotsam and Jetsam, LOTR Tolkien)  They stared at me in silence for a moment.

“Let me rephrase that,” Meriadoc said with a sigh.  “No regular hobbit would carry two pipes!  My colleague is, of course an exception.  I still believe that the second pipe proves that someone else was here with Bilbo Baggins at the time of his death!”  He delivered these words with a flourish and a look in my direction that kept me silent.  “Now, while I confer with Peregrin, I would suggest that you go and obtain a list of enemies from Frodo Baggins.  I shall want a word with any who wished the old fellow harm on the marrow.”

Frowning deeply and looking less impressed with Meriadoc’s deductions than he had before my unfortunate revelation, Samwise Gamgee left us alone in that place of death and went to speak with Frodo Baggins.  As he left, I felt Meriadoc’s hand descend firmly on my shoulder and was able to deduce that all was not well at the moment.  Perhaps I am learning a bit of this detection business!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 3

Being the writing of Peregrin Took, MD

We returned to Bag End some time later to find Frodo Baggins seated at his kitchen table studying some papers.  Upon our entrance, he looked up and gestured for us to join him.  Following Meriadoc’s lead, which for the time being, seemed the most sensible course of action after my unfortunate pronouncement regarding the pipes, I took a seat at the table and waited.

“Samwise has informed me of your plan to question those who might have disliked my Uncle,” Frodo said.

“Yes, I believe that your Uncle met with foul play, sir,” Meriadoc explained.  “I see no reason to believe that he was the victim of a curse just yet.  There is evidence of another hobbit who may have been at the scene of your uncle’s death.”

Frodo Baggins cleared his throat and looked over at me, but I, wisely looked away, feigning interest in the time and intent upon the clock.

“Well,” Frodo began, but Meriadoc interrupted him at that moment.

“Samwise tells me that both you and he saw movement in the woods just before you discovered your uncle’s body,” Meriadoc said.  “Even without the evidence of the second pipe, that speaks to my theory.  I wonder if you might be able to tell me more of what you saw?  Samwise was unsure of what had been the source of the movement.  Tell me, did you see anything that might assist us in our search for your uncle’s killer?”  He leaned his elbows on the table and waited.

“No, I am afraid that I saw nothing more that what appeared to be a shadow of movement among the trees,” Frodo said, twisting his hands nervously.  “I can only tell you that something moved, but I do not know if it was an animal, a bird, or a hobbit.  I am sorry, Mister Brandybuck.  I had hoped to be of more assistance to you.  No one wants my uncle’s murder solved more than I.”

“That makes sense, Meriadoc,” I said, daring to speak for the first time in quite a while.  “After all, if you don’t find the murderer then Mister Baggins is likely to come to a bad end himself.”

Mister Baggins choked and went a bit paler than before at my words.  “My main concern is that my Uncle’s killer be punished, Mister Took,” he said, softly.

“As well the blighter should be,” Meriadoc agreed.  “You need not fear for your own life, Mister Baggins.  All you need do is exercise some caution until I am able to gain a bit more knowledge and then I shall solve this mystery.”  He reached over and patted Mister Baggins on the hand reassuringly.  “Oh, I do trust that you have my fee arranged?”

Mister Baggins sighed and preceded to hand Meriadoc a rather large, pouch.  Meriadoc looked into it and grinned.  “Jolly good!  Now, about that list of names?”

“I hate to give such a poor account of my dear uncle, but he had managed to upset more than a few folks during his life,” Frodo said with a last, longing look at the pouch which was now in Meriadoc’s safe-keeping.  “I am afraid that this list has become quite long.”

Meriadoc raised his eyebrows and reached for the list and Mister Baggins slid it toward him with another sigh.  I watched as Meriadoc studied it for a moment.  Finally he began to question Mister Baggins.  “I see the name of the wizard is not on this list,” he observed.  “Why not?”

“In truth, I do not know how to find him,” Frodo said.  “It has been some years since he has visited and I have no way of getting in touch with him.  I felt it pointless to include him as there is no way that you will be able to interrogate him.”

Meriadoc took up the quill that was lying on the table and in his very bold hand he wrote, Gandalf the Grey, on the top of the list.  “Please allow me to decide what is pointless, Mister Baggins.  That is what you are paying me for, after all.”

“Yes, and I am paying you quite well, Mister Brandybuck,” Frodo said grimly with another look at the pouch.  This time, Meriadoc must have sensed some sort of trouble because he quickly stuffed the pouch into his coat pocket.  “So, you have a way to speak with Gandalf?” Frodo asked.

“Not at present, but I still feel it imperative that all of Mister Baggins’s enemies appear on the list,” Meriadoc said.  “It is a matter of logic.  One must have all of the facts at hand if one hopes to find the solution.”  He looked at the list again and asked, “Who is Lobelia Sackville-Baggins?”

Frodo made a face as if he had tasted something sour.  “She is a close relation of ours.  Were it not for the fact that Bilbo named me as his heir upon his death, she would be the one to inherit his wealth.”

“So, there is motive enough for Miss Lobelia Sackville-Baggins to be near the top of out list of suspects, wouldn’t you say so, Peregrin?” Meriadoc asked.

“It sounds to me as if Frodo here ought to be on that list also,” I replied.  “Why would Miss Lobelia kill Bilbo Baggins if she knew that Frodo would inherit his money?  I mean, doesn’t that seem odd to you?  I should think that Frodo would be the one with more reason to off the old gentleman.”  At that point, I stopped theorizing because Frodo Baggins now had his hands around my throat, having reached across the table and attacked me for my opinions. 

As I gasped for air, I heard him say, “How dare you!  I would never have done anything to harm my beloved uncle!”

Just as I felt myself near to fainting from lack of breath, Meriadoc pulled Mister Baggins’s hands from my throat and as I sank to my knees gasping and trying to remain conscious, Meriadoc said, “Your actions do little to prove your innocence, sir.  You might have killed my colleague just now had it not been for my intervention.”

“Your colleague has just accused me of murdering my uncle, sir!” Frodo said, glaring at Meriadoc.  I am quite sure that he would have been glaring though I was still unable to see clearly.  Little pinpoints of light dashed about before my eyes amid periods of darkness.

“He merely stated the obvious, Mister Baggins,” Meriadoc said.  “He suggested that you also had a motive to kill your uncle and perhaps a stronger one that Miss Sackville-Baggins herself, who, by your own admission, had nothing to gain from your uncle’s death.”

I took hold of the table and pulled myself back into my chair at that point and managed to croak quite hoarsely, “If she had killed both of you, that might have made sense.  Who gets the fortune if you die?”  I then lay my head on the table and fainted, I suspect.  In any case, I was unaware of anything further until I awoke in a rather large bed in one of the guest rooms.

As I struggled to come fully awake, I heard Samwise speaking. “You mustn’t feel too bad for your actions, sir.  I have wanted to choke him several times since I first met him.  It was bound to happen sooner or later.  I suspected that I would be the one to try it.”

“Peregrin, my friend!  You are coming round I see, jolly good!” Meriadoc greeted me as my eyes fluttered open.  He was seated on the bed next to me, and Mister Baggins and Mister Gamgee stood just behind him. 

I opened my mouth to speak to him, but was unable to produce any sound.  My throat was far too sore from the rather violent choking that I had recently received at the hands of Mister Baggins.  I motioned for my quill and some paper, but Meriadoc waved me off.  “Now, now, my dear fellow.  Just rest and do not trouble yourself to speak as yet.  I shall handle things until you’ve recovered.”  He then turned to the others present and said, “Tomorrow I shall begin to question the suspects, Mister Baggins.  If Peregrin is unable to speak, I should like to leave him here.”

I panicked a bit at this pronouncement.  I was not too keen to be in the care of Frodo Baggins after his treatment of me earlier.  I sat up and clutched at Meriadoc’s sleeve and tried to speak but my efforts produced nothing.  I noticed a slight gleam in Mister Gamgee’s eyes, which gave me little comfort.  Meriadoc placed a hand on mine and said, “Do not worry, Peregrin.  No harm will come to you while I am away.  I am sure Mister Baggins realizes that after what I witnessed earlier, he would be my first suspect if you should die under mysterious circumstances while in his care.”

Mister Baggins frowned at him.  “I never intended to harm him.  I was merely deeply offended by his accusations,” he said, folding his arms over his chest.

“As you should have been,” Samwise agreed, still giving me that odd look and so I tugged at Meriadoc’s sleeve again, desperate to make him see that this was not the best arrangement for my recovery.

“There, there, Peregrin,” he said.  “I doubt that you will be able to offend either of these two gentleman in your present state.  You are unable to speak and so you will not say anything that might strike them as unkind and I shall take your journal with me so that I may record my progress and my thoughts as I interview our suspects,” he smiled.  “I will write it all down and you may read it upon my return.”

He seemed to think that this would please me, but it did little to lessen my fears for Mister Gamgee was still looking oddly pleased by my situation and, truth be told, I feared his reprisals more than those of Mister Baggins.  Also, I found it rather annoying to have someone else, even Meriadoc, write in my personal journal.  I had begun this narrative of Mister Brandybuck’s investigation with thoughts of having it published at the conclusion of this mystery.  It did not set well that another name would have to be added as co-author.  Sadly, I was unable to do anything to change the situation.  They gave me tea and then left me with Meriadoc taking my journal in preparation for his interviews the next morning.  I hoped to wake and find my voice restored so that I might be able to go with him or scream for help if need be, but upon waking I found no improvement in my situation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This bit here, now being the narrative of Meriadoc Brandybuck, famous consulting Detective of the Shire, writing in the absence of Peregrin Took, MD.

It felt rather odd continuing my investigation without the company of Mister Took.  Though this was our first case together, I had come to enjoy his observations upon my work.  I knew that I would miss him telling me how brilliant I was or being astounded at various discoveries of mine this day.  One does get used to that sort of thing in short order.  Sadly, it could not be helped as the poor chap was simply unable to speak and therefore unable to assist me with the interviews.  I have attempted to jot down the basics of my afternoon’s work for any who might read this and as a sort of record of this case.  I find that though Peregrin himself is often unclear, his writing is very useful when it comes to reviewing pertinent issues involving suspects and crime scenes.  My own will be a poor substitute for his, but I shall give it a go!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Interview one, the town Miller, Mister Sandyman

I interviewed the Miller at the Mill at just after evelenses and found him to be a rather hostile hobbit indeed.  His dislike for Mister Bilbo Baggins was very easy to read in his answers to my questions.  Why a faunt of barely three should have noticed his dislike for old Bilbo.

“I never liked that old nutter,” Sandyman growled.  “If it’s him you’ve come to speak of, then you best leave now.  This Shire is better off rid of his like and I say whoever killed him, done the rest of us a favor!”

I frowned to show my displeasure with his attitude and then thought to change tactics a bit.  “So you much prefer the new master of Bag End, then?”

“Don’t like him neither!  He is just as bad as that mad old Bilbo Baggins.  Only difference is he is a might younger,” the miller spat.

“Tell me sir, are you by any chance missing a pipe?” I asked hoping to catch him off his guard, as he did seem a most likely suspect in all of this.  I was sure he had no hope of gaining Mister Bilbo Baggins’s fortune, but I did think he would have killed the old hobbit just out of dislike for him.

“I have my pipe right here, Mister, what did you say your name is?”

“Brandybuck.”

“Yes, well, I have my pipe right here, Mister Brandybuck.  Not that it’s any of your business,” he said, removing the pipe from his pocket and waving it about in my face.  “Now, I have work to see to!  This mill don’t run itself and I ain’t no rich old hobbit like Mister Baggins what can sit on my arse all day and not lift a finger.  I work around here and with not much help.  My lazy son is out there leaning against the side of the mill doing nothing right this minute!  That lad isn’t worth the spit it takes to put out this pipe of mine!” the old man complained. 

I left Sandyman and went out to speak with his son.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Interview two, Ted Sandyman, son of the Miller.

“So, would you mind if I had a word with you regarding Mister Baggins, sir?” I asked, approaching him where he was leaning on the side of the mill.

“That Baggins ain’t worth talkin’ about, mister?”

“Brandybuck,” I said, extending him my hand in friendship.

He took it and I winced as I realized that he had something sticky on his own hand.  ‘What do you want anyhow?” he asked as I discreetly wiped my hand on my handkerchief.

“Well, I am investigating the death of Mister Bilbo Baggins and I am questioning some of the local residents in an effort to ascertain who might have had reason to wish him harm, sir,” I said.

He frowned at me rather stupidly and scratched his head with a sticky hand.  “You’re what?”

“I am asking around to see if anyone might have wanted to kill Bilbo Baggins,” I said.

He laughed.  “Bilbo Baggins is already dead, Mister Brandybuck.  Somebody done seen to that old nutter.  Now, the only Baggins we have to worry about is that lousy Frodo Baggins.”

“You don’t like Frodo Baggins?”

“He’s a high-minded little snot.  No, I don’t like him.  Didn’t like his crazy uncle neither.  Glad he’s dead and would be even gladder if some bloke’d pop off Frodo.”

“Are you missing a pipe, by any chance?”

“Well, no, but if you’ve found one, I’ll take it!”

I didn’t like the look in his eyes as he reached out toward me hoping to gain a free pipe and so I took my leave of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I then had a very large lunch using some of Mister Frodo Baggins’s payment for my services at the Inn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Interview three, Hamfast Gamgee, father of Samwise Gamgee and Mister Bilbo Baggins’s gardener

(Its important to note that Mister Gamgee is not on the list of enemies that Mister Frodo Baggins gave me, but I am merely questioning him as an employee of Bilbo Baggins.)

“So, you liked your employer?” I asked, after the old gentleman had stopped crying.

“Oh, yes sir,” he replied.  “Mister Bilbo was a fine one to work for.  He was good to my family and me.  The Bagginses have always been good to us, Mister Brandybuck.  It were a right shame what happened to him.”

“Yes, and Frodo Baggins has hired me to find his killer,” I explained.

“Mister Frodo wants you to track down that evil hound?”

“I see you are referring to the Wizard’s curse,” I said, nodding.

“It’s your move,” he said, pointing to the draught board.  I had been instructed that he would speak to me only if I would play a game of draughts with him and so I had agreed to this.  I moved another of my pieces and then he said, “You don’t want to be messin’ in the affairs of wizards, Mister Brandybuck.  They are very quick to anger.  You could wind up with a curse on your own head if you keep at this.”

“You think that Mister Bilbo Baggins was killed by an evil hound as the result of the wizard’s curse, then?”

“I know he was!  He told me himself that he was hearing that devil-beast every night outside his window,” he told me in a voice just above a whisper.  “He said that he couldn’t sleep for the animal howlin’.  I told him to take up drinkin’ at night.  Told him he’d not hear a bloody thing if he were drunk enough!”

“Were you surprised when he was killed?”

“Of course not.  I knew that old Wizard’d get him.  You don’t live long if you’ve angered one of them Wizards.” He fumbled about in his pocket and then frowned at me.  “Don’t have a spare pipe do you?  I seem to have lost mine.”

I was very glad that my associate, Peregrin was not here at this moment for I feared that he would have attempted to arrest the old gentleman on the spot.  I merely told him that I did not have a spare pipe and watched for his reaction.

“Silly question!  What normal hobbit carries a spare pipe around?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Interview four, Lobelia Sackville-Baggins

“I was shocked beyond words when dear Bilbo died,” she told me, dabbing at a dry eye with her handkerchief.   “I loved that old hobbit more than I can say.”

“Really, I had been told otherwise,” I said.

“I will assume that you have spoken to his heir, Frodo then,” she said.

“Well, yes, I have.  It was he who hired me to find his uncle’s killer,” I said.

“Then you should be investigating Frodo Baggins, sir,” she said, echoing Peregrin’s words.  “He is the one that killed poor Bilbo.  He is a retched little fortune hunter and when his marriage plans fell through to that rather wealthy Wisteria Took, suddenly there was all of this nonsense about that curse.  The next thing I knew, dear, dear, Bilbo was dead and that little git was enjoying all of Bilbo’s wealth!”

“Marriage plans?” I asked as no one had mentioned this before.

“Didn’t he tell you?” she grinned rather evilly here.  “Frodo Baggins was keeping company with Wisteria Took!  She’s old enough to be his grandmother and she is very well off having been married several times already, the last time to a Took who up and left her and left her with all of his money as well.  There are some that think she might have killed the old gent and buried him somewhere at the Great Smials to get his money.  She and Frodo deserved one another, but for some reason she dumped him!” She took a moment to be pleased by this and then went on.  “Old Wisteria used to be a Bolger before she began marrying first one and then the other.  She’s been married three times now!  Well, young Frodo was courting her quite avidly in hopes of becoming number four and sharing in all the old girl’s wealth.  I am quite sure he thought that she would be dead in no time and then he would be a rich bachelor.  Then all he would have to do is wait for dear Bilbo to die and he would have had two fortunes!”

“This is most distressing news, madam, as I am working for Mister Frodo Baggins,” I said, hoping to gain her trust and get more information from her.

“Yes, well, the whole Shire knows that he’s no good.  He has a violent temper.”

I thought of the incident with Peregrin and for a moment regretted having left my friend in Frodo’s care, but I quickly disregarded this as the ranting of a rather jealous hobbit who had been done out of her chance at the Baggins fortune.  “So, you think Frodo Baggins killed his uncle for the money.”

“I do, Mister Brandybuck,” she said, running her fingers up my leg and leaning in to smile at me.  “I think that he wormed his way into dear Bilbo’s home as his heir and killed my poor cousin.  That is what you should be investigating.”  She batted her eyes at me and ran her other hand through my hair, kissing my cheek lightly.  I swallowed hard.  “I think that you are far too tense, Mister Brandybuck,” she whispered and I was indeed tense at that moment.

“Miss Baggins, I-“

“Oh, it’s Mistress, my dear husband is dead though, Mister Brandybuck,” she said, biting on my ear lope as her hand went higher on my thigh.  “I am a widow raising a son alone, sir.”

“I see,” I managed as she fell on me pinning me to the sofa with her body and pressing her lips firmly against my own.  I had a brief moment to wonder how old she was before she loosened the top of her frock and revealed her breasts to me.  Now, true, Miss Lobelia Sackville-Baggins was a rather ugly old hobbit if one merely looked at her face, but her breasts were very impressive indeed!  I found myself ignoring her face completely at that moment, so it is quite easy to understand why I woke up in her bed five hours later, completely relaxed and a bit hungry.  The old girl was nowhere to be found and so I located my clothing and quietly let myself out.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was at this point that I decided to leave the rest of my interviews for the next day and go to the Green Dragon for ale before returning to Bag End to study my notes and see about the health of my colleague.   As you may realize upon reading this, I have left a great many details of my afternoon with Lobelia out of this narrative.  I feel that this is only wise as those details have little to do with the murder of Bilbo Baggins.  Besides, there was a great deal of moaning and screaming which is terribly hard to re-count.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 4

Again, the writings of Peregrin Took, MD

Well, it has been a very long, insufferable day and I am glad to see its end.  I should not have feared for my life after all, it seems, but that I die of boredom.  Shortly after Meriadoc left to interview suspects and do some general detective things, Mister Frodo Baggins brought me a rather large bowl of soup, a pot of tea and some reading material.  He then left me, locking the door behind him and forcing me to an afternoon of complete solitude with only a book for company.  I tried to gain the attention of someone on several occasions, as I felt quite well enough to move about the smial even if I am unable to speak, but all attempts to gain my release failed completely.

I tired of knocking on the door and rattling the doorknob.  I also tired of stomping on the floor and ringing the pull bell, which brought no one.  They are very lucky that I was not in need of anything important!  Confined to my room like a common prisoner, I had no choice but to use my empty soup bowl as a chamber pot and contend myself with reading the book that was left for me. 

The book is a rather dreary volume written by a very dry and humorless person.  It is called simply, “The Art of Polite Conversation, a guide to being Tactful”.  It has no plot that I can see and is simply the ramblings of some stodgy old hobbit about how one should speak to another in polite society.  I neither enjoyed it nor gained anything remotely useful from it.   In fact, on several occasions, I was sorely tempted to write the author and suggest some ways of spicing up the story.  Unfortunately, Meriadoc had all of my writing materials and there were none to be found among the items in this prison of a guest room.

I heard Meriadoc long before I saw him.  I could hear him conversing with Frodo Baggins somewhere in the smial but being unable to leave this room, I was also unable to see how my dear friend had fared on his day of investigations.  I put my ear to the floor and heard that vile Mister Baggins saying, “Oh, don’t trouble yourself about Mister Took just now.  He is well taken care of.  He is most likely resting and in his current state, I do think it best that you leave him be for now.  I am quite sorry for my actions of the other day and have been trying to make amends by seeing to it that Mister Took is not disturbed.”

The very idea!  I began to wonder just what sort of a detective my friend was when he didn’t see through this at once.  I also began to doubt him further when I pounded on the floor in frustration only to hear Frodo tell Meriadoc “Samwise is doing some repairs to the smial at present.  I do hope that he is not disturbing Mister Took who seems to be a very sound sleeper.”  After that, I despaired of every gaining freedom from this room as my voice was still completely gone and all of my pounding came to nothing. 

An hour or so later, just as I was drifting off, Meriadoc slipped my journal and quill underneath the door and was gone before I could reach the door.  I pounded fiercely but was rewarded with only silence.  Thinking to gain help, I wrote a quick note and slipped it under the door.  I then took my journal back to the desk in this prison of mine and began to write an account of my day.  Sometime later my note was slid back underneath door with a reply.

I had written:

Meriadoc,

I am being held captive in this room.  Please get the key from Mister Baggins and let me out.  I am feeling quite well, but have been locked in here all day long!  You must help me.  I fear that evil Mister Baggins intends to keep me here indefinitely!

Warmest regards,

Peregrin Took, MD

The reply was not encouraging:

Mister Took,

I do indeed plan to keep you locked away for as long as I am able.  I fear for your safety should you and I have many more conversations and I do not want to harm you.  I had thought that your current silent condition might make your presence bearable to me, but I have found that is not the case at all.  I still wish to throttle you within an inch of your very life.  As a means of protecting you from this fate, I do intend to keep you locked away.  I also find that it is a great relief not to have to deal with you and my peace of mind is slowly being restored.  I do hope you enjoyed the soup.  I shall see about feeding you again when time and chance permit.

Regrettably yours,

Frodo Baggins

I resigned myself to my fate and decided to read Meriadoc’s notes on his investigations of the day as I had little hope of getting help at this point.  Mister Baggins may not have killed his uncle, but he was certainly trying my patience.

I must have fallen asleep while reading the journal because when I woke I discovered that I had missed yet another chance to escape my captor.  Mister Baggins had come by and left me another meal of soup and tea and this time a few pieces of toast and some jam.  I glumly took the tray over to the desk and ate my meal.  I was just finishing the toast when I heard it.  There was a dreadful howling coming from outside of the smial that made my very bones chill.  I opened my mouth to scream and was rewarded with only silence.  Fearful, but unable to resist a chance to see this hound of the Bagginses, I went to the very locked window and peered out into the night.  The howl came again, but I could see nothing from my second floor window.

I could now hear several folks running through the smial and I knew that others had heard the howls also.  I took a moment to note that this hound had far more luck at attracting attention than I did, and then ran to the door to pound upon it.  Surely someone would let me out now!  Meriadoc cannot be so dense as to think that Samwise is doing repairs at this hour of the night!  I only stopped my pounding when I heard someone else screaming in terror.  Could the hound have taken another victim?  If so, was Mister Frodo Baggins now dead?  If he was, had he told anyone where the key to this room is before he died?  I pounded again with newfound resolve and soon found myself laying flat on my face in the hallway with a lass standing over me asking, “Are you alright, sir?  That door was locked.”

I pushed myself up and tried to answer her, but was not able to do so.  I gestured to my throat and tried to make her aware of my plight.

“Oh, you can’t talk?”

I nodded and smiled at her understanding.

“A mute, then.”

I shook my head and tried to make her see that it was merely a sore throat, but she smiled and took my hand and began to lead me away from my room.  “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, sir.  Some evil hound is howling outside and I suspect that we are far from safe.  The others are saying that it is the hound what curses the Bagginses and so unless you’re a Baggins too, you should be safe,” she said, looking at me.  “You aren’t a Baggins are you?”

I shook my head no and she seemed almost as relieved about that news as I was.  As we stood there smiling at one another, there was another ear-splitting howl and we cowered against the wall.  I could hear shouting now and I moved to go in the direction of it, but she held my hand fast in hers.  “Not that way.  There’s trouble in that direction, sir!  I think that awful dog is killing poor Mister Baggins!”

For some strange reason that thought filled me with more joy than anything had all day and I extricated my hand from her lovely grip and ran in the direction of the noise, hoping to see the beast finish Mister Baggins off.  Behind me I heard her call out, “I was going to lock you in the cellar and keep you safe!”  Why the bloody hell was everyone trying to lock me away?  You’d think I had killed Mister Baggins from the way they were all acting.  I rounded the corner and entered the room from which the screaming had come to find Meriadoc trying to calm Mister Baggins down.  The poor hobbit was as pale as my nightshirt, which I realized, was all I was wearing.  In my haste to escape, I had forgotten my dressing gown.  Someone, Mister Baggins I suspect, had taken my clothes.  “It’s alright Mister Baggins.  I hear it too,” Meriadoc was saying, kindly. 

“It’s the curse,” Mister Baggins wailed, wide-eyed and shaking as he sat in bed, pulling his covers up as if expecting them to protect him from the huge teeth of an evil hound from hell.  “It’s no use, Mister Brandybuck, I am doomed to die just like my uncle before me.”

“I hardly think that a dog barking in the night should be the final word on your fate, sir,” Meriadoc said, patting his shoulder.  “I should go and have a look around in a moment.  Ah, good Peregrin!  So good to see you up and about.  Would you stay with Mister Baggins while I see if I can find any trace of this mysterious hound?”

My eyes must have betrayed my emotions as I moved forward for Mister Baggins was very quick to react.  “No, that is quite alright, Mister Brandybuck.  Mister Took should really return to his room.  He is not fully recovered and I will be fine here alone.”

“I’ll take Mister Took back to his room and then stay with Mister Baggins,” Samwise said as he came into the room.

Horrified at winding up back in that dreadful room, I moved quickly and hide myself like a frightened child behind Meriadoc, clinging to his shoulders and shaking my head.

“Now, there Mister Took, don’t you fret none about the hound,” Samwise said.  “It won’t bother you.  I’ll lock you in safe and sound.”  He continued to move in my direction and I held Meriadoc between us as a shield.

“Here now!” Meriadoc said.  “What in blazes is going on here?  How am I supposed to go out and look for clues in the midst of all this nonsense?”  He frowned at Samwise.  “You stay with Frodo and I’ll take Peregrin with me.”

I could have kissed him, except I had read of his earlier activities with that Sackville-Baggins woman and thought better of it.  I gave Samwise a rather nasty look, but kept myself behind Meriadoc just in case.

“He’s in nothing but his nightshirt!” Samwise objected.

“Oh, dear, well then old fellow I suspect you should wait here,” Meriadoc frowned at me.  “You’ll catch your death.”

At the mention of death Mister Baggins shivered and moaned.  I, for my part, clutched Meriadoc’s sleeve and shook my head violently.  I gave him my best pleading look, which used to work wonders on my own dear mum, but he refused to relent.  He pried my hands from his sleeve and began to push me toward Samwise.  I fought as best I could not to be given over to Mister Gamgee and in reluctant acceptance of my refusal to cooperate, Mister Baggins muttered, “His clothing is in the top drawer of my dresser.  If he must go, then he should go dressed.”

Samwise moved away from me and I raced to the drawer to retrieve my things.  “No idea how he got out n the first place,” I heard him complain as I pulled on my trousers and removed my nightshirt while Meriadoc paced.  I could tell he was impatient to begin his hunt for the hound, which had now gone silent.  I quickly buttoned my shirt and moved toward the door to the room, waving for Meriadoc to follow, which he did.

Grateful to be out of that situation, I followed Meriadoc to the kitchen where we collected our coats and cloaks.  Meriadoc lit a lantern and grinned at me.  “So, they’ve spent the day holding you prisoner, have they?”

I looked at him in stunned silence, my usual state these days, and he laughed.  “Yes, I knew and I had plans to liberate you tomorrow, my dear friend, but now is not the time for merriment.  We must go quickly and search for the hound before all traces of its presence are lost.”  He lit a second lantern and handed it to me.  “Now, can you whistle?”

I blushed in embarrassment.  If I had been able to whistle, I would have done so earlier today in an effort to get help.  I lowered my head and let my embarrassment wash over me fully.  It was an old childhood sore-point.  I had taken quite a bit of teasing because of my failure to learn this simple thing.  Meriadoc smiled.  ‘Then you will have to stay close to me as you cannot yell out for help.  Come, Peregrin, the game is a’foot!”

I followed him out into the night breathing rapidly with excitement and holding tight to the lantern he had entrusted to me.  It was then that I noticed he was armed.  Meriadoc had a rather sharp-looking knife in his hand and I was relieved to see that we would not be meeting this dreadful hound unprepared.  I did indeed stay close as we moved off toward the woods.  I even found myself wishing that Mister Baggins had not returned my clothing to me and that I were still safely hidden away in the smial.  I had a moment to wonder where the lass who had set me free was just now and who she might be locking away.  That thought led me to lose focus and I bumped into Meriadoc who grunted.  “Watch you step Peregrin,” he whispered.  “And keep quiet.  We don’t want to be over heard.”  He then snickered and said, “Sorry.  Guess you have little choice on that last bit.”

I would have been a bit angry at that were it not for the fear that filled me.  We were out in the dark searching for an evil hound and I, at least, was unarmed and unable to call for help.  For all I knew, we might be walking into the very jaws of death in the form of this beast that is said to have cursed the Bagginses.  I could hear the twigs snap beneath our feet and a slight rustle of the wind through the trees.  The night was dark and devoid of stars or moon.  I suspected a storm was coming.  Our only light was the lanterns that we carried.  Moments later, I froze in terror as a howl erupted from the trees and I heard the sound of feet or paws on the grass as whatever it was ran straight toward us.

Meriadoc sat his lantern down and positioned the knife in front of him while I held up my lantern to afford him a bit more light.  The howling sounded again and then I was hit from behind between the shoulders and sank to me knees.  My lantern went out and then it was upon us.  Meriadoc’s body tensed and he thrust the knife forward.  Something knocked over his lantern and all went dark.  As I crawled on my hands and knees trying to feel about and reach Meriadoc, I heard him shout.  I then heard a very loud thud as if something hard had hit against another hard object and then I heard someone fall to the ground.  There was running both behind me and in front of me and then nothing but silence.  I opened my mouth to call out to Meriadoc and silently cursed Mister Baggins for costing me my voice.

I made my way over to my fallen companion on my hands and knees and found him unresponsive.  He had been knocked unconscious by our attacker and without any light I was unable to see how badly he had been injured.  I placed my hand to his throat and felt his pulse still strong within him.  With my surgeon’s training, I skillfully examined his face and neck and chest with my hands searching for wounds and thankfully, finding no bleeding.  He appeared to have a slight knot forming on his forehead, but in this dark I could find nothing else.  I ran a finger over it to check and see how quickly it was swelling and Meriadoc mumbled, “Oh, Lobelia, don’t stop.”

Frustrated with my lack of options at this point, I fumbled about for the lanterns.  I managed to locate one and retrieved the flint from Meriadoc’s pocket so that I might light it.  I shall not tell you what he said during that event for fear of marring his character beyond all repair.  After a few rather awkward attempts, I managed to light the lantern.  Now, I at least, could see a bit.  I did not want to leave my friend alone while I went for help and so I tried to rouse him by shaking him slightly.  Finally, he opened his eyes and looked up at me.  “Did they escape?” he asked and I nodded.  Whatever had attacked us had indeed gotten away.

He sighed and made an effort to sit up.  “There were two of them, Peregrin, did you see?” he asked.  “I think I stabbed one of them in the shoulder before they ran off.  I am sure at first light we shall be able to see some blood on the grass and perhaps be afforded a bit of a trail.”

I nodded because it was all I could do and helped him to his feet.  I took the lantern in one hand and had him lean his weight against me so that I could help him to the smial.  We left the other lantern on the ground somewhere in the dark behind us.  The evening had fallen silent now.  The only sounds were my companion’s excited chatter and our breathing.  “I think we shall have many more answers tomorrow.  We will go out at first light and I shall search the area.  Someone was out in those woods tonight, Peregrin.  Someone was out there trying to terrify Mister Baggins and perhaps lure him outside to his death.”

I wanted to comment that perhaps Miss Lobelia Sackville-Baggins had more mischief on her agenda than her afternoon dalliance with a certain detective, but I was not able to do so.  I wondered who was running about now trying to stop the flow of bleeding if, indeed, Meriadoc’s aim with his knife had been true.  For all of the night’s adventures, we were left with more questions than answers.

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Chapter 5

Being the writings of Peregrin Took, MD

When we entered the kitchen, there was a great deal of confusion in which Samwise wanted to send for a doctor for Meriadoc who was quite elated by our experiences in spite of the dangerous situation in which we had found ourselves.  I suppose it was the thrill of the hunt.  He loved the excitement of it all and was prone to become bored without something of this nature to challenge him.  My friend’s ravings about our exploration of the grounds must have sounded mad to a practical fellow such as Mister Gamgee.  The two of them argued over what should be done about Meriadoc’s injuries and the fact that we had been attacked only just a few yards from Bag End, until finally, Meriadoc convinced Samwise that I should see to his injuries as I was a doctor.

Samwise was skeptical of Meriadoc’s claims that I was a member of the medical profession, but he reluctantly gave in and allowed me to treat my friend’s head injury.  Mister Baggins was sent for and arrived looking quite ill himself.  The strain of all of this was taking its toll on him.  Anyone could plainly see that he was a nervous wreck.  I would have proscribed a sleeping draught for him, but I thought it unwise, given recent events, to treat him myself.   Instead, I struggled to administer the proper treatment of cold cloths to Meriadoc’s forehead while he moved about and gave Samwise and Frodo a full account of our search.

It was our search and subsequent attack that caused Samwise to insist that the authorities be notified.  This annoyed Meriadoc greatly.  “You understand little of them if you think that they will be of any help to us at all, my dear fellow!” he shouted.  “They are a group of armatures, you know, and are very likely to fumble about out there and destroy any trace of evidence that remains.”

“The sheriffs should be notified of this,” Samwise said.  “You or Mister Took could have been killed out there.”

I snorted at this, as I was quite sure my safety was not of paramount concern to Mister Gamgee, but he took no notice of it. 

“What if they had managed to get into Bag End?” Samwise continued.

“My dear fellow, they did not get into Bag End and neither myself or Mister Took was seriously injured.  I have been seriously injured on many occasions in this line of work and I assure you that tonight’s attack was of little consequence for me,” Meriadoc said, waving a hand to dismiss the matter.  “The hobbit that I managed to stab might be in need of medical attention just now, but Peregrin’s efforts have restored me and as soon as dawn breaks, I shall be outside studying the clues that have been left by our visitors.”

“You know him, talk some sense into him,” Samwise suggested looking at me.

“Yes, well, that might be one way to proceed if Peregrin here were able to speak at the moment, but I am afraid that you will have to be the one to convince me, Mister Gamgee,” Meriadoc smiled as I huffed a bit over my complete lack of any say in these matters.

“I am still master of Bag End and it is left to me to decide how we will proceed,” Frodo Baggins said, surprising us all.  He had remained silent throughout all of this bickering, sitting at the table and holding his teacup in both hands lest the shaking be too noticeable.  Now, he looked at Meriadoc intently.  Meriadoc returned his look nervously awaiting his decision.  He did not like having his control of the situation usurped, but Mister Baggins was the master of this hole.  “We shall wait until dawn and then you, Mister Brandybuck, shall be allowed to have a full search of the area and if I may suggest, earn some of the money that I have paid you.  After you have finished satisfying your interest and have learned all that you may, then Samwise shall go and inform the authorities and all of us will cooperate fully with their questions,” Frodo said, sternly.

“A wise precaution,” Meriadoc said.  “The authorities can do no harm once I have seen all that I must see.”

“And Mister Brandybuck, when I say that we shall all cooperate with them fully, I am including you and Mister Took as well,” Frodo said.  “I want their questions respectfully answered and I want them to be aware of what has happened here.”

“I do understand that, Mister Baggins, however, do you intend to tell them about the howling?” He raised an eyebrow and waited for a response.

“I do,” Frodo said, surprising even Meriadoc.  “They will surely have heard the rumors at the time of my uncle’s death and so it will likely comes as no surprise to them.  Now, Samwise, please prepare an early first breakfast for us all so that we may fortify ourselves against what promises to be a very long day.”

I sank into the chair opposite him and found that I was rather glad that an evil hound had not killed him.  I wished that I might offer some words of comfort but an attempt to coax something from my poor throat produced only a rather sharp pain.  I fidgeted a bit and leaned my chin on my palm.  I am not used to keeping silent and all of this had been quite a trial for me.  Here I was involved in one of the most exciting adventures of my life and I couldn’t say a word about it or anything else.  I was frustrated beyond anything one might imagine.  Mister Baggins smiled thinly at me and said, “I do begin to regret nearly choking you to death, Peregrin.”

I looked at him and shook my head to indicate that I was no longer angry with him and he continued.  “It’s just that your remarks made me so incredibly angry.  I loved my uncle very much and the very idea that anyone would accuse me of his murder made me lose all control.” 

I sighed and tried to look as if I understood.  After all, the poor fellow had enough troubles without any worries for my own situation, annoying though it might be.  “If only you were this quiet all of the time.  I suspect I would have had less difficulty in tolerating you,” Frodo said.

Samwise took that moment to set a cup of tea before me and I accepted it grateful for its warmth on my aching throat.  As a doctor I knew there was little else to be done for my situation but to wait it out.  The trouble is, I have never been the patient sort.  I sulked a bit as I sipped my tea and a silence fell over the room save for the sound of Samwise’s efforts to produce first breakfast.

We ate quietly and I noticed that Mister Baggins ate very little.  The dark circles under his rather enormous eyes seemed to have taken over his face.  He sipped his tea and stirred the eggs about on his plate.  In contrast, Meriadoc ate a hardy breakfast in record time.  He was through with his meal and pacing about mumbling to himself when the sun finally rose.  With that first light he grinned at me and said, “Come Peregrin, there is not a moment to lose.  We have much to see before the authorities arrive and I shall need your help in it all.”

Glad to be of use for something, I rose from the table, donned my coat and cloak, and followed Meriadoc out into the early morning light.  A thick fog covered much of the area between the smial and the woods and Meriadoc cursed loudly upon seeing it, as it would make his investigations more difficult.  I fairly ran to keep up with him as he led us to the area of last night’s attack.  He stopped me with a hand across my chest and said, “Now, we shall move no closer without extreme caution.  I want nothing destroyed.  Even the tiniest blade of grass can hold information, which I, as a trained detective, can use as a clue.  You will stand upon this spot and watch.  I may have need of your services, my good fellow.”  He then dropped to all fours and removed his magnifying glass again.  I watched as he crawled about the ground studying every aspect of it.

After a few minutes he began a running narrative of his findings.  “There were four of us in this area last night.  You and myself of course, and two others.  One came in behind you and the other came toward me from the woods.  I suspect that the hobbit who came up behind you was a sort of look-out and that the other hobbit was the one who might have posed a threat to Mister Baggins had it been he who had come out to investigate.  I suspect that was their plan, Peregrin.  They were trying to lure Mister Baggins out here to the very area of his uncle’s death and kill him also.”  He picked up our deserted lantern and righted it and moved on.  “Someone wants Frodo Baggins dead, my friend and that someone is willing to go to great lengths to accomplish his goal.”  He laughed.  “Come here, Peregrin!” 

I walked over to where he sat and he pointed to the grass next to him.  “I was right!  I stabbed one of them.  See the traces of blood on the ground?”

I did indeed see the blood and I returned his smile in full.  He had wounded one of them at least.  He got up from the ground and patted me on the shoulder.  “I should go into town after the authorities leave and check with the doctors here to see if anyone was treated for a stab wound last night or this morning.  We may get some answers that way!”

I was impressed and wanted to say as much but could only nod in agreement.  He then went back to studying the area while I watched.

We returned to the smial just as the authorities arrived and began going over the area that we had just left.  I had wanted to bring the lantern back inside, but Meriadoc said we should leave it for the authorities to examine.  We had a second breakfast in the kitchen while they searched the area and had just finished when they entered the smial to question us all.

The chief sheriff, Bollard Grubb was the one that asked the questions.  “Tell me Mister Baggins, what did you hear last night?  I need to know what it was that alerted you to the presence of a prowler.”

“I could hear a dog howling,” Frodo answered, nervously, as he recalled it for them.  “I had just gotten to sleep or so it seemed, when I began to hear this mournful howling outside of the smial.”

“Do any of your neighbors have dogs?” Bollard asked.

“No, not that I know of,” Frodo said.  “That is what made it all the more strange to me.”

“I see.  I don’t like to ask this, but well, there has been talk since your uncle’s death of a curse on your family and a great hound.”

“Yes, regrettably there has been talk,” Frodo sighed.  “I am only reporting what I heard, Mister Grubb and I heard a dog howling.”

“Did anyone else hear it?  I mean you have been under a great deal of stress since your uncle’s death and sometimes folks hear things that aren’t really there if you take my meaning.”

I tugged at Mister Grubb’s arm and pointed to myself trying to make him understand that I had heard the howling also and he frowned at me.  “What is it, lad?  Speak up if you please.  Did you hear something?”

I nodded.

“Well, what did you hear?”

“My friend is suffering from a throat problem that makes him unable to speak just now, Mister Grubb.  I believe he is trying to let you know that he heard the howling also,” Meriadoc supplied and I continued to nod my agreement.  “I also heard the howling.”

“You see, I am quite rational,” Frodo said with a rather odd smile.  “They both heard it and so did several of my servants and employees.  It frightened some of the staff greatly.”

I remembered the lass who had let me out of my room and quickly went to get quill and parchment from a desk in the next room so that I might share this knowledge with the others.  After all, she could attest to the fact that others were frightened by the howling even if I could not.  When I returned I found that my efforts were in vain as the staff had already been sent for and the very lass that I had thought to tell them of was now speaking with Mister Grubb.

“I didn’t know him at all, but the poor fellow is a mute and so I had thought to hide him with some of us servants to keep him safe from the hound, sir.  I weren’t sure if he were all right in the head because he kept tryin’ to run off to where the screams were comin’ from,” she said and then smiled over at me.  “That’s him there!  He got himself locked in his room and I let him out.”

I blushed because it looked as if I had locked myself in by mistake now and no one was bothering to explain.  I suspected that the less said on this matter, the better but even so, it was embarrassing to be thought that big a fool by total strangers.  I waved at her and nodded.  No point in any more than that.  She smiled back at me and waved as if I were a complete idiot.

“So you were hiding from this hound?” Mister Grubb said and it was plain that he thought her foolish also.

“Oh yes sir, we was all frightfully scared of the hound, sir,” she said, not seeing his smirk.  “That hound killed poor Mister Baggins you know.”

“So, I’ve heard, lass,” he said, rolling his eyes.  “That will be all that we will require of the staff, Mister Baggins.”

As they left, I felt sorry for her.  She looked as if she had done something wrong to be dismissed in such a fashion.  Mister Grubb then looked over at Samwise and frowned.  “I said that I am through with the staff, you can go to.”

Samwise stiffened at the insult.  Mister Baggins was quick to intercede.  “This is my dear friend, Samwise Gamgee.  He is an employee of mine.  In fact, he practically runs my affairs and I wish him to stay.”

I thought it ironic that it was Samwise who had insisted that the authorities be called to begin with and now they seemed intent on dismissing him. 

Mister Grubb sighed and looked at Mister Baggins.  “As you wish, Mister Baggins.  You will be pleased to know that we have a very strong clue as to who might have been prowling about on your property last night,” he grinned broadly, looking very pleased with himself.

“You do?” Frodo asked.

“Yes, we pride ourselves on our quick work, Mister Baggins,” he said, and motioned for one of his sheriff’s to come over.  The second sheriff sat something on the kitchen table and Mister Grubb smiled again.  “You see, Mister Baggins, whoever it was must have been frightened off by something because they dropped their lantern.  All we have to do is find the owner of this lantern and we shall have your prowlers.”

Meriadoc was snickering with amusement and I remembered what he had said to me earlier and hid a grin behind my hand.  “Leave the lantern, Peregrin and we shall see what the Hobbiton Sheriff’s can make of it all.”

Frodo sighed in exhaustion.  “The lantern is mine.”

“Oh, well that changes things a bit,” Mister Grubb said.  Now it was his turn to be embarrassed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 6

Being the writings of Peregrin Took, MD

After the authorities left us, and they did leave quickly having made that terrible blunder over the lantern, I retired to the parlor and fell asleep in a rather comfortable chair near the fire.  I had not realized how exhausting detective work could be.  I must not be used to this sort of stress and excitement.  Meriadoc, however seems to thrive upon it, for while I slept he set about finishing his interrogations.  I suspect that it was he who covered me with a blanket before leaving.  At any rate, what follows are his notes on the day’s events while I slept.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Being the writings of Meriadoc Brandybuck, consulting Detective, in the journal of Peregrin Took.

Interview five, Farmer Maggot

I had heard that Farmer Maggot got on well enough with Bilbo Baggins but that he did not care for Frodo Baggins and so I put him on the list for today.  I do seem to have to make additions to Frodo Baggins’s list as he keeps leaving potential murders off of it.  There may well be reason to suspect that Frodo, rather than Bilbo was the original target and besides that, this Farmer Maggot has dogs.

“So, what is it you want from me, Mister Brandybuck?  I’m trying to run a farm here so you’ll need to be quick about it,” he said by way of a greeting to me.

“I am looking into the death of Bilbo Baggins, sir.  I will try to be brief,” I said.  “I only have a few questions.”

“I don’t know anything about Bilbo’s death.  The Bagginses live in Hobbiton and that’s a ways from here, lad,” he frowned.

“Well, as a hobbit who owns dogs, I thought you might be able to clear something up for me, sir.”

“What might that be?” he asked.

“Could a dog tear the throat out of a hobbit?” I asked.

“Well, of course it could if it was of a notion to!  I keep dogs to keep folks off of my property and out ‘o my gardens and if I set my dogs on someone, then unless I hold ‘em back they might do just that very thing!”  He looked at me as if he might set his dogs on me and I may have flinched slightly.

“There has been talk of a curse on the family involving a dog,” I said.  “Frodo Baggins heard a dog howling only last night.”

“Dogs howl and that Frodo Baggins has a right to fear ‘em,” the farmer said.  “I’ve had my own dogs chase him off of my property many times, the little thief!”

“Thief?”

“He stole from me!  Him and some of those other rotten little hobbits would come into my garden and steal my vegetables and I set my dogs on the lot of them!”

“Where were your dogs last night, farmer Maggot?”  It was my last question because he whistled and I found myself running for my very life.  That old sod may not be responsible for the death of Bilbo Baggins, but he does keep vicious dogs and he does not hesitate to set them on folks.  In fact, I think he rather enjoys it.  I very nearly fell once and all that kept me from screaming was the fact that I was running out of breath by that point.  I think it best that we keep an eye on Farmer Maggot, from a distance, of course.

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Interview six, Violet Proudfoot, Hobbiton, MD, Hobbiton’s doctor

I-“Did you treat anyone within the last twenty-four hours for any sort of stab wound?”

She-“I am afraid that I can’t answer that, Mister Brandybuck.  That is confidential information.”

I-“I am not asking for the name of the hobbit, only if you have treated anyone for a stab wound.”

She-“I have said all that I can.”

I-“You haven’t said anything!”

She-“I am a doctor and I am sworn to confidentiality, Mister Brandybuck.”

I-“I am a detective, Miss Proudfoot and I am trying to solve a murder here.”

She-“It’s Doctor Proudfoot, and I have said all I intend to say.”

I-“A hobbit’s life is at stake here, Dr. Proudfoot!  I am trying to save the life of Frodo Baggins.”

She-“I wish you luck.”

I-“Then you are refusing to cooperate?”

She-“I will not break my oath, Mister Brandybuck.”

I-“Fine then, but as long as I’m here, would you mind terribly looking at this rash?”

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Interview seven, Marigold Gamgee, Bilbo Baggins’s cook at the time of his death

I interviewed the lovely Miss Gamgee just at noon and she provided me with a very fine lunch while we spoke.  She is an excellent cook and much more attractive than her brother, Samwise.  As I ate, I questioned her about Bilbo Baggins.

‘Tell me, Miss Gamgee, was Bilbo Baggins a good hobbit to work for?”

“Oh, yes sir,” she replied.  ‘He was quite the gentleman.  He paid well too.”  She sniffled a bit.  “I was so sorry about his death.  No one deserves to die like that.”

“Yes, I have heard that it was a horrible death,” I agreed as I stuffed another potato into my mouth.  “But I am interested in his behavior before the night of his death.  I hear that he had been depressed and that he was drinking more than he normally did.”

“I don’t like to speak ill of the dead, Mister Brandybuck, but I am afraid that Mister Bilbo Baggins was very upset about something and it was causing him to drink more than he should.  We were all terribly worried about him,” she said, softly as I polished off the potatoes and went to work on the ham and beans.  “We were all relieved when he sent for his nephew.  We did think that Mister Frodo Baggins might be able to help ease his uncle’s mind.”

I nodded.  “Your brother tells me that you had been ill at about the time of Bilbo’s murder.”

“No, I don’t recall being ill.  What did Sam say?” she frowned.

“Well, he claims to have been making breakfast for Bilbo on the morning of Bilbo’s death because he was letting you sleep in.  He said you’d been ill and he thought that the rest would do you good.  Isn’t that true, Miss Gamgee?”

She looked away from me for a moment while I ate some buttered bread and then she said, “He’s trying to protect me.  I was out all night on the night that Mister Baggins died.  I had been out with Tom Cotton.  He and I have been keeping company for some time now and well; I spent the night at his place.  My brother knows that and he covered for me so that I wouldn’t get fired by fixing breakfast and later, when Mister Bilbo Baggins was killed, he refused to let me tell anyone that I hadn’t been in bed asleep that night.  He didn’t want me questioned and my reputation ruined.”

“Did you have any reason to want Bilbo Baggins dead?” I asked, having another helping of beans.

“No,” she said.  “You don’t think that I killed him do you?”

“I doubt it, but you did have the opportunity, Miss Gamgee,” I said, finishing my beans and moving on to the carrots.

“If need be, Tom will tell you that I was with him until after it was all over,” Marigold said.  “I didn’t know anything about it until after they had taken Mister Bilbo Baggins away.  I got home after noon and Sam took me aside and told me everything including how he had covered for me.”

“I shall be discreet, Miss Gamgee, but I may need to speak to Tom Cotton before my investigation is finished.  I am trying to save Frodo’s life,” I explained.  “Is there any pie?”

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Interview 8, Lotho Sackville-Baggins, son of Lobelia and cousin to Bilbo

“Tell me, Mister Baggins, do you have any idea who might have killed Bilbo Baggins?”

“Have you spoken to my mum yet?” he sneered.

“I have,” I said, trying not to give anything else away.

“Well, whatever she told you is all I have to say,” he said, nervously.

“I would like to hear your version of things,” I said.

“Look, I don’t have nothing to say about that old fool or his stuck-up nephew Frodo.  Neither of them are worth talking about,” he said.

“So, you don’t like them?”

“Look Mister, I don’t like them, all right?  I don’t mind that Bilbo is dead.  He did my family out of a fortune when he named Frodo as his heir and so I don’t like him in the least,” he said, angrily.

“Are you by any chance missing a pipe, Mister Baggins?” I asked going back to some of my earlier evidence.

“No I ain’t and if you found one then it ain’t mine,” he said, very nervous now.

“Have you been to the doctor recently for an injury, oh, say a stab wound or anything?”

“No!” he shouted and backed away from me.  “Look if you’re threatening me, then you’ll have to deal with my mum and she doesn’t take to no one who threatens me.”

I thought to say that she had already taken to me, but decided against that.  I would learn no more from Lotho Baggins this day and so I decided to come back to Bag End and then make a fresh start on this case in the morning.  I was in need of a sounding board for a few ideas that I had.  I would go talk to Peregrin about my theories and maybe have a word with Mister Gamgee about his earlier lie.  It might be interesting to see if he would tell the same tale as his sister now that she had been honest with me, if indeed, she had.  I also wanted to apply the suave that the good doctor had given me.

To be continued on the next page.  Just click on the link.