Heinz Noonan, the “Bearded Holmes” of the Sandersonville Police Department, was savoring an Italian meal in a restaurant in Manteo when a woman old enough to be his grandmother rudely pulled up a chair at his table and sat down. Noonan, at a law-and-order conference, was sans spouse, so to have a woman of any age intrude upon his solitude was unsettling. The last thing he wanted – or needed – was an affair of any description, particularly as other conference participants were at other tables.

“I’m afraid to ask,” Noonan said to start a conversation he did not want to have, “are you mistaking me for someone else?”

‘Not a chance,” the octogenarian snapped, “You’re the ‘Bearded Holmes,’ and I have a problem. So, to start, why do cheese lovers worship Christmas?”

Noonan was confused. “I’m lost. What does Christmas have to do with you here?”

“Because,” the woman said as she leaned toward him across the table, “Harriet said the best ice-breaker was a joke. So, here I go again: why do cheese lovers worship Christmas?”

“I’m stumped.”

“Because it’s when they worship the baby cheese-es.”

Noonan was now calm. If this woman had crossed paths with Harriet, the Sandersonville Police Department common sense guru, she, the woman, was looking for a tête-à-tête, not an intrigue. “OK, I’ll bite. Why are you here? And what does it have to do with cheese?”

“I’m missing a crate of Parmesan cheese flakes, and I don’t know why.”

“Well,” said Noonan carefully, “Maybe someone eats a lot of pizza.”

*  *  *

The great-grandmother smiled. Then she reached into a purse large enough to hide the TITANIC and pulled out a notebook and pen. “Harriet said you wouldn’t have a notebook and pen handy, so I, the forward thinker I am, brought them for you.”  She handed Noonan the pair, “Use any page you want; they’re all blank.”

“How thoughtful of you.”

He popped the pen open and found an empty page.

Which was not hard.

“Let’s start with who you are.”

“Elaine Bayless. I’m the Magistrate for Bayless, North Carolina. It’s a little town way west of here.”

“Bayless, North Carolina. Let me guess, your family founded it.”

“Yup. We’re a large family. We’re petitioning for official city-hood, so to speak. We started small and then grew suddenly. The land was cheap, so some tech innovation companies moved in. Big time. We’ve had to create a lot of city services toute suite, to use the French term, because one of the largest companies is French.”

“French and missing cheese, quite a combination.”

“Absolutely. The money has been good for the community – we call it a community now – and property taxes are paying for the city services we need. You know, like police and fire. When,” she emphasized the word, “we become a city. Officially. Until then, I’m the city magistrate and clerk and judge.”

Noonan asked for her contact information. “OK, let’s get down to business. Tell me about the cheese.”

“Not much to say. Bayless is growing quickly, and with the tech companies and people, there are new stores and restaurants erupting from the soil. Five years ago, we had one grocery store, two restaurants, a filling station, and a whatnot store that sold everything else. Now, we have four grocery stores, a dozen restaurants, and a line of boutiques along the main street. The main street is still a highway spur, so we haven’t named it Main Street yet.”

“And the cheese?”  Noonan hinted.

“The restaurants are supplied with gypsy teamsters. Do you know what they are?”

“Truck drivers who deliver to multiple clients rather than one. I’m guessing you mean that a bunch of your businesses are getting their goods from a few truckers.”

“Yup. But it’s not a mélange, another French term. Electronic whatevers come in one load, food and groceries in another.”

“And the cheese disappeared from a grocery delivery?”

“You are good. Harriet said that. Yes, we are talking a dozen plastic bottles in a single crate. Parmesan cheese flakes. Not a lot if you are a big city, but in Bayless, it’s news.”

“And, let me guess, the restaurant reported the theft for insurance reasons.”

“I’m acting as the city cop, so, yes. I did the usual investigation. Usual, if you are a cop. For me, it was just checking to make sure the cheese had been shipped. It had. The crate of cheese disappeared overnight while the truck container was left outside. It wasn’t locked because, well, we’re Bayless, and our crime rate is zero.”

“So anyone could have taken the cheese.”

“Correct. I don’t know who or why, but I need to know why.”

*  *  *

Noonan tapped the notebook page. “Elaine, in most cases like this, I do research on the Internet. I can’t do that now, so let me just ask you some basic questions, and I’ll see what I can do for you here and now.”

“Shoot, Luke.”

“Good, I see you read Westerns. Now, you said the community was erupting from the ground, so to speak. When was it originally founded as a community?”

“Never was. It was the Bayless family spread. We were a passel and when our ancestors got the land, it was agreed to put all the homes in the center of the property and farm the surrounding land. There were three structures that were originally homes and lots of rooms for lots of relatives. As families grew, the homes expanded outward. Now, we are high-rises. Five of them, all four stories each. The grocery store, restaurant, and filling station were originally alongside the homes. Now, the businesses are expanding along the main street.”

“Are all of these businesses one-story structures?”

“Not all of them. The ones that are not are restaurants with a second floor. There are no office buildings downtown. The tech companies have high-rise buildings, but they are not in the downtown area.”

“How about homes? Do the electronic people live in Bayless?”

“A large number of them do. But management, the high income folk, are not in the downtown area. Their homes, that is. Those people downtown are the workers. In the high-rises. Most workers are on odd shifts, like week on/week off or two weeks on/ two weeks off. ”

“The five high-rises, are they close to each other?”

“Not next door but across parking lots.”

“But all in the same confined area?”

“Yes, on land that was originally family housing land.”

A distant gong chimed once in the alleys of his cerebral cortex.

“Are the restaurants near the high-rise apartments?”

“Very close. Keep in mind the workers are 12 hours on, 12 hours off. Most of them do not eat in their rooms. They eat in the restaurants. Or buy their food and go back to their rooms.”

“How about sports clubs or gymnasiums? Any in the downtown area?”

“There is a large one out of town with all the razzle-dazzle equipment, but not in the downtown area. There are small workout rooms in the basements of the high-rise buildings with some bicycles, walkers, and weights. There is a gym at the high school, but that’s not for workers.”

“So everyone in town, that is, the Bayless family, is making money? Anyone left out?”

“Not really. We are a large family, and there are always those who are in pain in the tulip patch. Most are happy with what they have, a few are not.”

“Anyone in particular?”

“A family of them, Rasmusons. Got lots of money and want more, more, more. They do not do things to make Bayless better, only those things that make themselves money.”

“How many people are we talking about?”

“If you mean direct relatives, six. If you mean the collaterals and hangers-on, 20 at any one time.”

“How do they make their money?”

“The way the rest of us do. They rent out rooms in their high-rise, operate a take-out restaurant, have a small gym in the basement of the high-rise, and provide cable TV to all rooms.”

“Are they making as much as other family members?”

“More because their quality is cheap. Food’s not that good, and their gym equipment was used by Rutherford B. Hayes.”

Noonan chuckled. “As I understand it, Bayless, the community, was originally a farming community. Is that right?”

“Raised anything we could sell, but that’s been years ago.”

“But you, the family, made a profit off farming?”

“Depended on the year, the crops, the birds, the mice, deer, wind, snow, and the market price of whatever we were growing that year. But those times are long gone.”

“No one was stealing crops?”

“Not that we knew of. Farming is not a money-making venture. That’s why what we’re doing is so, so, so, profitable.”

“OK, now the restaurants. Are they always full, or do most workers eat in their rooms?”

“Full enough so you have to wait for a table. Restaurants in Bayless are not for eating; they are for socializing. Don’t forget that these workers are exhausted from their 12-hour shifts. Then they go to small rooms with a TV. No social life at all. That’s why the restaurants are so important.”

“Not the workout areas?”

“No one talks in workout areas. Then there are the large gyms. That’s where the large-scale socializing occurs. The workout areas in the basements of the high-rises are for men and women to blow off steam. They usually socialize in the restaurants, and then they go back to their rooms in the high-rises.”

“Are all the high-rises the same in terms of rooms and amenities?”

“Yes and no.”

“I hate those kinds of answers.”

“Generally speaking, the bulk of rooms are hotsheets. Do you know what they are?”

“No, actually.”

“A hotsheet room is one where you live for 12 hours. You leave, and a janitorial crew comes in and cleans for your roommate, who will be in the same room for the 12 hours you are working. Twelve hours later, when the shifts change, you come back to your room after it has been cleaned. The bulk of the rooms are hotsheet rooms, so there is no socializing with your roommate.”

“Are all the rooms hotsheets?”

“Most of them are. We are converting some of the bottom floors of the high-rises for socializing. No hotsheeting. To see if we can make more money.”

“Let’s see,” Noonan said as he looked over his notes. “There are five high-rises in the downtown area. Right now, all are hotsheet, and you are changing some to include socializing.”

“Correct. The socializing is linking four hotsheet rooms to a common area. We’ll put a larger television screen in the common area, a large refrigerator, stove, and some lounging furniture. Make it homier than a hotsheet room with just a bed, chair, and table.”

“Do any of the buildings have socializing rooms now?”

“Two of them do. We’re planning on more.”

“Are they as profitable as the hotsheet rooms?”

“They cost more to construct and are more expensive for the workers. But this makes no difference to the workers because they are not paying for the rooms. Their companies are.”

“Do the workers like the socializing rooms?”

“Absolutely! We’ve got a waiting list for those who want to move in.”

“Are all the high-rise buildings converting to the socializing model?”

“Not all of them. The Rasmussons are sticking with the hotsheet model.”

“Any special reason?”

“They’re cheap.”

Noonan laughed. “Now, regarding the remodeling of the socializing model, are all buildings using the same format?”

“Yes, the buildings, all of them, were built as a unit, so to speak. They all have the same floor plan, water and sewer, electricity, same nine yards.”

“All built by the same company?”

“Yes, everything for the buildings then – and now – is handled by one construction company. It’s cheaper that way. And it’s run by our family. Keeping all the money in the family, so to speak.”

“There must be a lot of remodeling going on. I’m guessing as soon as one socializing room is finished being remodeled, the workers move in.”

“Like express trains.”

“I hate to ask, as the workers are moving into the socializing high-rise, are some of the workers coming out of the Rasmuson’s building?”

“Like express trains.”

The gong in Noonan’s cerebral cortex was, literally speaking, blasting like an express train.

*  *  *

Come Monday morning, Noonan was back in his office in the Sandersonville Police Department. He was enjoying his first cup of coffee, one of the few he would have before noon when Harriet wandered in with her first cup of coffee of the day—one of the many she would have before and after the noon hour—said, “Do you know why the cheese slice was so sad?”

“Not more cheese jokes! I was caught flat-footed when your friend Bayless gave me a cheese joke.”

Harriet chuckled. “Nice lady. I grew up with her daughter. Good family. Now, I know you solved her problem.”

“Really? How’d you know that? She call you?”

“No, she’s sending the office a pizza. Should be here piping hot at noon. You, of course, can’t have any because you are a police officer who cannot take gratuities. I, however, a humble bureaucrat, can, so I will take the pizza home for my starving family because they have to live on a bureaucrats’ salary.”

“I’m touched.”  Noonan picked up the notebook Bayless had given him. “Did she say anything else?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact. Said you were correct and, to repeat the word, would correct the situation.”

“Nice to see I could help a little old lady.”

“Tough bird and hardly a little old lady. Now, tell Mamma about the missing cheese.”

“Just a guess. Might be right.”

“Mamma is waiting.”

“It is all about money. There are five high-rises in Bayless, and four of them are being converted to socializing units. That is, rather than floor upon floor of single rooms, they were converting the rooms into sets of four with socializing areas. The four rooms would open into a living room with a large TV screen, comfortable chairs. It was a way for the workers to socialize.”

“Neat!”

“Yes, but it is going to cost more money to rent those units.”

“Well, the workers are probably making enough money to afford the new rooms.”

“Except the workers aren’t paying for the rooms. Their companies were.”

“Wow! No problem. The workers are getting more for money you aren’t spending. So I’ll bet there was a flood of workers who want to change to the new rooms!”

“That was my guess, too. So, the people who owned the high-rise that is not making the change to socializing rooms needed a way to stop their renters from going to the new rooms. Every person leaving their high-rise was money out of their pocketbook. So they had to stop the flood to the new rooms.”

“Understandable. But what did that have to do with cheese?”

“My guess was the way they wanted to stop the flood away from their building was to make the socializing rooms less attractive. And it had to be subtle, something that could not be traced back to the perps, so to speak. So they stole a lot of Parmesan flakes.”

“So?”

“I’m betting they were going to go into the buildings being upgraded and scatter the flakes, probably in the workout rooms. Those are usually empty, so no one would see them scattering the flakes. And they would scatter the flakes under the bikes and treadmill. That way, the cheese couldn’t be seen.”

“Why?”

“Attract mice and shrew and other vermin. The more vermin that came into the buildings, the less desirable the socializing units would be. The word would get around that the new rooms had attracted mice. That would turn off a lot of workers. Mice gnaw on things like clothing and shoes. They also carry diseases. You would not need a lot of mice to set off the alarm bells, just enough to kickstart the rumor mill.”

“Clever! And no one could trace the mice back to the people who put in cheese. But how’d they get into the workout rooms in the first place?”

“All buildings have been using the same construction company for years. I’m sure there are pass keys all the way around. It may have been even simpler than that. One key to any room in one high-rise would open the workout room door. So you wouldn’t even need a passkey. The perps, in this case, probably had the support of the tech companies because the companies didn’t want to spend more on workers. Maybe that’s where the key came from.”

“Neat. But how’d you stop the scam?”

“I didn’t. I just suggested the buildings being remodeled announce they were going to welcome cats and have an outdoor area for dogs.”

“Can the cats catch all the mice? And dogs don’t go after mice.”

“No, but I am betting just the announcement would stop the scattering of the cheese. Apparently, it did because,” Noonan pointed out the door of his office, “we got pizza, so something worked.”

“Ah, but you are a clever man.”

“No, just lucky. By the way, speaking of cheese, what’s the answer to your question?”

“Which one was that?”

“Why the slice of cheese was so sad?”

“Oh, because it was blue.”

“Ah, and for you, do you know what cheese scares everyone at Halloween?”

“No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“Muenster.”