Detective Sam Tomkins finished his sandwich as the gurney crashed through the doors and wobbly wheeled its way across the tiled floor. The body was on its way to cold storage in the mortuary below the hospital. "So what have we got doc?" He asked the pathologist.

"Somewhat of a strange night detective," Dr Pemberton answered, rubbing his tired eyes. "79 year old male. He's got a dislocated shoulder and a nasty slash wound on his left calf."

"What did he die of? Heart attack or something?" Tomkins asked.

"Not exactly. The guy's stomach contents contained an inordinate amount of Halloween candy."

"Well a sweet tooth isn't normally likely to kill you is it?" Tomkins said confused.

"It is when it's packed with shards of broken gla.s.s and twisted metal."

"You mean that someone force fed the poor b.a.s.t.a.r.d?"

"That's the odd thing," Pemberton replied. "There are no defense wounds, and no bruising around the mouth."

"He wasn't forced to eat a sack of b.o.o.by trapped sweets?"

"No, it appears that he sat down and ate the whole sack willingly," Pemberton said at a loss.

"Wouldn't that of hurt?" Tomkins asked scratching his head.

"Like h.e.l.l," Pemberton agreed "Like h.e.l.l."

"Is that why I'm here, because of some prank on an old man?"

"Trouble is he's not the only one," Pemberton replied. "We had a five year old brought in a few hours before the old man came in. Believe it or not the poor kid choked on one of the same pieces of candy. A bit of metal cut the kid's throat and he choked to death wearing some kind of a creepy tuxedo costume."

Tale 10.

"you are what you eat"

"Duke what time do you call this?"

Daisy McHale withered the a.s.sistant editor with the most damaging stare that she kept in the bag. The nickname was one that had stuck since the early eighties, when The Dukes of Hazzard had been a popular TV show and had contained a character called "Daisy". She had naturally a.s.sumed that the nickname would fade in time but here she was, 38 and still called Duke.

"What's the matter Petey, lose your watch?" She snapped at the a.s.sistant editor whose job it seemed to be was to make hers as difficult as possible.

"The boss is looking for you," Peter O'Neil said haughtily. "You've probably screwed up again."

"Nah, he probably needs a valued and respected eye on something, G.o.d knows he hasn't got much to choose from around here," she replied as she flipped him off.

Duke was a tall athletic woman. She ran frequently in order to exorcise the frustrations and adrenalines of work. She had shoulder length auburn hair which was normally kept in a minimal ponytail. She ate right and drank only water. Her body was a temple and she worshipped there daily. Her legs were long and toned which she liked but her chest was flat and bony which she didn't. She gave off the impression of being a tomboy, but in reality she had neither the time nor the figure to be a girly girl, even if she'd wanted to. She didn't date around the office and was considered to be gay - she wasn't - but the misconception meant that she wasn't constantly ha.s.sled by the s.e.xist pigs and that suited her just fine. Her wardrobe consisted mainly of pant suits for the day and sweats for the evenings. She was a reporter for a health and lifestyle magazine called "Natural Awakenings". She mainly produced articles about popular trends that were about to hit and she was always keen on finding the next big health kick.

She took the stairs two at a time up to her boss' office. Gene Mack ran the magazine and was an old school editor stuck with a new age product. She rapped gently on the door.

"Get in here Duke," Gene Mack's rough voice shouted too loudly.

Duke entered as commanded. Mack was a short gruff man whose blood was permanently up and a temper that lived on the frayed edge. He was in his fifties and Duke feared that at the rate he was going he wasn't going to see his next decade.

"What's up Mack?" She asked ignoring his usual grumpy demeanor.

"Cholesterol, blood pressure, you name it," he barked. "I guess it's what I get being surrounded by a cesspool of incompetence all d.a.m.n day long."

"I hope that you're not including me in that a.n.a.lysis?"

"Yes I am, but I guess that you're not the worst," he replied begrudgingly.

"What did you want me for?" She asked not taking any offence.

"You heard of Casper Cane?"

"The name rings a bell."

"Well it b.l.o.o.d.y well should do, I mean you do work in this industry don't you?"

"Healthy lifestyles for the rich and famous wasn't it?" she said trying to remember, "Some kind of borderline cult that promised unbelievable results if you had the cash, all very secretive."

"Correct, Casper owns Maple Leaf. It's a large health food and fitness company. They produce diet food and gym equipment. But there is also a health spa resort tucked away in the mountains where Casper lives. They supposedly have some kind of miracle fat cure for the rich, and Casper has made a fortune with it." Mack replied. "Well what we didn't know, what n.o.body knows, is that Casper is also the one behind Brainfreeze."

"Brainfreeze Milkshakes? That's Casper Cane?" Duke said incredulously. "I've seen that c.r.a.p advertised all over the d.a.m.n place, supposed to be delicious but very bad for you."

"Well my source tells me that Casper is the man behind both Maple Leaf and Brainfreeze."

"You're thinking that something's up?" Duke asked. "You think that he's using Brainfreeze to fatten them up and then Maple Leaf to slim them down again?" Duke said, cottoning on to Mack's way of thinking.

"Makes sense to me."

"Well that sounds a great story in theory Mack, but we're not a newspaper and I'm not an investigative reporter," Duke said confused.

"But wouldn't you like to be Duke? Are you really happy being stuck writing c.r.a.p for a s.h.i.tty magazine? This could be our ticket out."

"Our ticket?"

"You bet. You get the story behind the story and I'll take it to the big boys and maybe we can save a little dignity," Mack said smiling.

Duke processed the idea. She did harbor ideas of being a real journalist, one capable of writing something important and the thought was appealing. "But how would we even start?"

"That's the easy bit. Casper runs the most exclusive health resort in the and we're one of the world's largest selling health and lifestyle magazines guess who he has selected to write a little fluff piece about Maple Leaf?"

"Us?"

"You bet your a.s.s us," Mack grinned.

Duke swallowed again, what little breakfast she had managed to eat earlier rolled as the helicopter dipped nauseatingly. It was her first time on such a contraption and she had little enthusiasm for repeating the feat.

The Maple Leaf Resort and main offices were only accessible by air as the roads were completely impa.s.sable during the winter months. As the helicopter skimmed the lush green canopy of tree tops Duke risked a look below. She couldn't help but be reminded of the sequence in "The Shining" movie where the family are winding their way through thick forest land. She shuddered at the idea of willingly trapping herself atop a mountain, even if it was just overnight.

She looked around the seating in the helicopter but didn't recognise anyone. She had been hoping for a celebrity or two as Maple Leaf was renowned for its secrecy and discretion. The resort spa also doubled as home to Casper Cane and she still couldn't believe that the man had not only agreed to an interview, but that he had in fact solicited one. Casper Cane owned Maple Leaf outright and was as a reclusive figure as you could hope to find.

Mack had a.s.sured her that his source was impeccable, and that his source was positive that Casper Cane was not only one of the world's leading health and fitness gurus but that he was also the sole owner of the company that produced Brainfreeze. Brainfreeze was the latest hugely popular fast food craze. The thick and syrupy shakes were all the rage with stores springing up all over the country. She had yet to try one of their products as she was always deeply concerned with what she put into her body. The fat content and calorie count was off the charts, but somehow the drinks had been pa.s.sed by the health authorities and were now sweeping the nation. Despite being condemned by doctors as deeply unhealthy, sales were growing at a rapid rate. If Mack's source was right, then Casper Cane was responsible for one of the unhealthiest products ever unleashed on an unsuspecting public. But also at the same time he held himself up as the paragon of health and fitness through Maple Leaf.

The helicopter dipped low again and her stomach flipped over and rolled. She fought hard to avoid throwing up over the other pa.s.sengers and narrowly won the fight. She risked another look outside the window and saw the ground looming up towards them. There was a path cut through the thick forest and a ma.s.s of white buildings sat in the clearing. The terracotta roofs glinted under the late day sun and snow topped the stony peaks that surround the resort. She could only see a few signs of movement around ground level which wasn't surprising as the resort apparently operated at a lower capacity during the winter. Her first question to the pilot flying them in was to check on the weather conditions for tomorrow. She had no intention of setting foot on board if there was any chance that she might get stranded. He had smiled and told her that there had only been three occasions in the eight years that he had been flying up to Maple Leaf when the chopper had been delayed or grounded. He'd winked and raised one index finger, bending it up and down whispering "Redrum, Redrum" and she'd smiled in return knowing that it was a question that he must have been asked a lot.

The chopper set down and she released a large breath that she had been holding. There were four other people on board and she allowed them to exit first. The pilot had set down some steps in front of the door and she eventually followed on shaky legs.

The helipad was large and there were staff members busying themselves with the luggage from the helicopter. She cursed herself for her inability to take in her surroundings as the other four pa.s.sengers now looked like employees rather than guests. There was no-one to greet them and they all trooped off in different directions with purpose. If she was going to make it as a reporter then she had to start paying closer attention.

A man in smart chinos and surprisingly a navy polo shirt, considering the time of year, waved her over. As she walked, however, she realised that it was unseasonably warm on the mountain top.

"Ms McHale?" The man greeted her.

"You can call me Duke," she answered.

"Very well Ms, I mean Duke; I'm Mr. Cane's personal a.s.sistant. My name is Jenkins and if there is anything that you need then please do not hesitate to call upon me anytime."

She eyed up the demure man. He was smart and clean cut with a smooth babyish face and blonde hair parted neatly to the right. He looked impossibly young but she had to a.s.sume that he was older than he appeared. "Why is it so warm up here?" She asked curiously. "I was expecting to freeze my..., um I mean I was expecting it to be freezing up here," she corrected herself, remembering her manners. She was in danger of picking up some bad behavioral habits from Mack; gruffness chief amongst them.

"There is a natural hot spring that runs beneath the mountain," Jenkins explained. "It acts as a kind of thermal central heating and it never gets too cold up here despite the snow around us. If you'd like to come with me I'll show you to your room so that you can freshen up before your meeting with Mr. Cane this afternoon."

She followed Jenkins as he chatted away like a tour guide about Maple Leaf. His repertoire was straight out of the brochure and she spent her time making sure that her eyes were open as she closed her ears. Mack had wanted the story behind the story. Casper Cane may well have been expecting a fluff piece for the resort and his company, but she had other ideas. She had to try and find something to link Cane to Brainfreeze. She didn't want to tip their hand as to her and Mack's knowledge about Cane owning both companies, so she was going to have to get creative. She had to bring something back if she wanted to be taken seriously.

They entered one of the main buildings as Jenkins began talking about the construction of the spa. She looked around as he prattled on; she needed to get her bearings fast if she was going to detour from the main path at some point later.

They walked through a large lobby area decorated beautifully but simply. The walls were a soft magnolia and there were large windows on every side to take advantage of the spectacular mountain top views. Her memory was good and her sense of direction was better so she spent the brief time noting directional signs, Restaurant, Cafe, Pool, Gym, Accommodation, Staff and more importantly Private, were all stored for future reference.

Jenkins led her through some double doors labeled "Accommodation". The corridor was long and empty. The wall to her left was lined with doors and the wall to her right was lined with gla.s.s.

"And this is you," Jenkins finished his long spiel outside of what looked like a hotel room.

"That all sounds very interesting Jenkins, thank you," she replied having no clue what he had been rambling on about for the last few minutes.

He flashed a key card past the lock on the door and it changed from red to green. He pushed the door open and she found herself staring into a hotel room that was larger than her apartment. The floor dropped down to a lower central level. The carpeting was thick and there were several doors off to the sides and even a spiral staircase that led upwards.

"Your master bedroom is up the stairs," Jenkins pointed. "Your bags are up there. Lounge area, library, stocked kitchen, cinema, and out on the decking is a hot tub," Jenkins said indicating to each room.

Duke stared in disbelief at the accommodation. The entire back wall was a gla.s.s window overlooking a huge drop away from the mountain. The scene was amazing and she walked out towards it. She could see the covered hot tub out through the sliding double doors and couldn't wait to try it out. "Wow," was all she could say.

"I hope you will be comfortable, and I'll be back to collect you at 3 pm sharp," Jenkins said, bowing slightly as he left.

Duke had intended on spending the next couple of hours subtlety sneaking around the corners of the resort to see just what she could find. Unfortunately she had made the mistake of "trying out" the hot tub and that was all she wrote. The only time that she emerged from the bubbling hot water was to grab a gla.s.s of perfectly chilled champagne that she found in the large Sub-Zero refrigerator in the kitchen.

She heard the door knock softly and realised with horror that it was 3 o'clock already. The whole afternoon had slipped away from her like an avalanche gaining momentum seemingly with little effort.

"Just a minute," she called as she splashed her way out of the tub finding that her legs had gone to sleep.

The last thing that she had thought of bringing to a mountain top was a bathing suit and she hadn't fancied the idea of using the ones provided. She ran naked up to the bedroom and quickly dressed in her finest business suit. She tied her hair back and wished for more time to appear more professional and better prepared. She slapped a little makeup on and thought that the result would have to do. She grabbed her leather bag containing her equipment and ran back down the stairs.

"Sorry about the wait," she said to Jenkins as she opened the door.

"Not a problem," he smiled back kindly. "We have time."

"How many guests are there at present?" She asked as they walked.

"The last flew out this afternoon," Jenkins replied. "This is our maintenance month. The spa is closed to the public whilst we carry out essential servicing."

Duke couldn't help but find the statement a little ominous. "I wasn't aware that you closed during the winter."

"Only every other year. The winters can be harsh up here and Mr. Cane likes for the work to be carried out in private. Our guests tend to be of an..., exclusive nature."

"Anyone I'd know?" Duke probed.

Jenkins stopped in his tracks. "I'm afraid that our clients expect, and are afforded the utmost confidentiality. I do hope that you aren't here under any misconceptions that this is to be any kind of a dishing the dirt interview," he said distastefully.

"Not in the slightest Mr. Jenkins," she said, feigning offense. "I promise you that is the last thing on our minds." She waited for him to continue walking and hoping that she hadn't upset the man's seemingly delicate nature. This whole undercover reporter thing was proving to be more difficult than she'd antic.i.p.ated. It was time that she got in the game.

Jenkins led her through the accommodation block and further into the building. She was concentrating hard on the directions as they turned corners with regularity and every corridor looked the same. She suddenly realised that they were walking further and further without turning. She pictured the building from the outside and thought that it couldn't have been this long.

"Where are we now?" She asked puzzled.

"We are over our industrial base where we produce many of Maple Leaf's products," Jenkins answered.

"Wait a minute, over? Are you telling me that you've somehow hollowed out a mountain?"

"Well I wouldn't exactly say hollowed," Jenkins laughed. "We have cut through the landscape a little to utilize the environment. After you," he said as he stopped outside an elevator.

Duke suddenly felt the weight of the earth pressing down on them as they began to sink lower and lower. She hadn't considered herself to be claustrophobic by nature, but the elevator now felt like a coffin.

"Are you alright?" Jenkins asked concerned.

"I'm fine," she bristled. "Are we going much lower?"

"Not far."

The door pinged just then and Duke resisted the urge to run out. She stepped out onto a corridor like any other in the spa. The only difference was where the others had been lined with an open view out over the mountain side, here there was a long red metallic walkway. She walked over to the window and stared out into a dimly lit factory floor that seemed to go on forever.

"It is quite the feat of architecture and construction, is it not?" Jenkins said proudly.

"Very impressive," she replied, thinking that she longed to see the sky again even after only about 10 minutes.