IV
"You mean she didn't tell you anything?" commented an exasperated Fred.
The girls nodded affirmatively in response. Behind them, in the judging ring, stood twelve Siberian Huskies, lined up, waiting to take their run around the ring.
"She didn't offer any potential clues or mention anyone who might have a grudge against her?"
Velma and Daphne shook their heads.
"Well, for someone whose big event is plagued by a rash of thefts, she's certainly keeping very tight lipped."
A beautiful, brown and white Husky and its handler made their way around the ring, stopping for examination in front of the judge.
"The only time she became really vocal was when someone from Madison Square Garden event scheduling called and suggested canceling the show on account of the disturbances," recalled Daphne. "Valerie was really adamant that the show go on as scheduled, in spite of the rash of dog-nappings."
"That is strange," said Fred, trying to make sense of the woman's actions, "but what's even stranger is that we haven't seen that witch yet."
As if on cue from the blond man, the arena lighting began to dim. An electric crackling sound filled the air, followed by the acrid odor of sulfuric smoke. With a blinding flash of greenish light, and a burst of demonic laughter, the sorceress appeared.
"Zoinks!" shrieked Shaggy, pointing to the figure floating just below the ceiling, "like, why don't you ask her?"
The three other humans and Scooby looked toward the ceiling, gasping in shock at what they saw.
"Let the curse of Westminster befall all who dare to set foot in the show ring!" cackled the witch. In another green flash and a burst of smoke, she was gone.
The four humans hacked and coughed, nearly choking on the acrid smoke. "Like, I can't see a thing," complained Shaggy, fanning the air around him.
"Re reither," echoed the Dane.
"I hope that dog is okay," worried Daphne, even though intuitively, she knew the fate of the husky.
Nearly five minutes passed before the smoke dissipated enough for the gang to see. The witch was gone, as was the husky that had stood in the ring only minutes earlier.
"Oh that poor dog," said Daphne, shaking her head, partly in sympathy, partly in contempt for the dognapping witch. "We've got to solve this case before any more dogs disappear."
"Yeah," added Shaggy, "like poor Scoob could be next, or even Kala."
Scooby drew back in fear at the thought of being snatched by a witch.
"Well the first thing we ought to do is look around here for any clues," announced Fred; wordlessly, the rest of the gang did as the blond man said. Even Scooby plunged headlong into the search, for it gave him the opportunity to sniff around the other dogs and to conduct his own, more personal investigations.
The Dane circled the area where the husky had last stood, detecting an unfamiliar odor. "What'cha got, Scoob?" asked Shaggy, curious. The Dane did not answer, but continued to sniff in circles, as though trying to discern the source of the unfamiliar odor; his hind paw lightly brushed against a piece of paper, kicking it into the air. Shaggy bent over to catch the scrap, noting that it was lightly singed, as though someone had accidentally brushed against it with a cigarette butt. "Like, what have we here?" he mused to himself, trying to decide whether or not the paper was relevant to the investigation. Deciding it was little more than a discarded scrap, he wadded it up and prepared to toss it into a nearby wastebasket.
"Wait, Shaggy. Don't throw that away!"
Shaggy turned around abruptly to face the source of the comment. "Huh?" he asked, scratching his head, "like why, Velma?"
"Let me see that scrap a minute." The lanky man handed his companion the paper; she proceeded to subject it to a battery of analyses, including sniffing it. "This is no ordinary paper, Shaggy," she announced. "This is flash paper."
"Rash raper?" Scooby asked, perplexed.
"Yes, a special type of paper designed to hold powdered magnesium. Before flash bulbs were invented, photographers would line their flash unit with this paper, then pour the powdered magnesium onto it."
"But what's it doing here?" asked Daphne.
"I don't know yet," replied Velma, "but it is our solidest clue thus far."
"But what can we do with it?" asked Daphne, "it doesn't bring us any closer to finding the culprit."
"We'll have to do a little more investigating in order to find that out," began Fred. "Shaggy, you and…"
"What's going on here?" The sudden remark caught the blond man by surprise, abruptly cutting him off in the middle of his orders. Fred turned around to see Melissa McDaniels standing in front of him.
"The witch just struck again, Mrs. McDaniels," said Fred, "and she stole another dog."
Melissa shook her head in disgust. "I was afraid of this," she grumbled. "I don't know why they don't just cancel the show; it's stupid not to."
"Well, we'll do whatever we have to in order to solve this case," asserted Fred. He continued his orders from before. "Velma, you and I will go talk with Mister Preston in scheduling; and Shaggy, you, Daphne and Scooby can look around here for more clues."