Chapter Text
In the Arendelle justice system, the people…
“And reindeer.”
“Don’t forget the snowmen!”
“Guys, let them finish?”
Are represented by two separate but equally important groups. The constables who investigate crimes, and the crown attorneys who prosecute…
“Persecute? That’s not very nice.”
“No, Olaf, prosecute.”
The offenders. These are their stories.
(The giant Marshmallow Guy stomps on an icy cave floor, making the clong-clong noise.)
***
Big Torvald’s Deli and Smorgasbord, Arendelle Village, 8:15 a.m.
“Brusi! Move it with that barrel of herrings or people are going to be eating frozen fish!” Torvald stamped around in the snow, shouting orders at his shop assistants. “Lars, get that ox cart out of the way – the bakery guy’s going to be here any minute!”
“Sure, boss.” Lars began leading the ox away.
“Bjorn! Get your tail out here and move those crates of lingonberries!” Torvald shouted. “Bjorn?” No answer. “Where is that idiot?”
“Uh, last I saw, boss, he was taking that barrel of lutefisk down to the basement,” Brusi said.
“That was half an hour ago…grrr! I’ll find him myself so I can fire him!” Torvald stormed around to the back alley and the basement door. “Bjorn! What in Thor’s name are you up…to…”
Torvald’s voice trailed off as he was met with the sight of a shattered lutefisk barrel. And beyond it…
“Guys! Call the constables!” Torvald yelled.
***
Kristoff pulled the sled up as close as possible, parked it and gave Sven a carrot. “Man, I hate getting a case like this on a Monday.”
“You hate getting a case like this on any other day of the week.” Anna hopped out of the sled and showed her badge to one of the constables. “Morning, Ragna, whatcha got for us?”
“Owner found him in the alleyway back behind the shop. C’mon back – but watch your step, there’s lutefisk all over the place,” Ragna said.
“So what does it look like so far?” Anna asked as she and Kristoff followed Ragna.
“It was obvious. He’d been iced,” Ragna said.
“You mean someone killed him?” Kristoff asked.
“Nope. Iced.” Ragna tilted her head toward the end of the alley.
A shop assistant with a very surprised look on his face stood there, completely encased in a giant block of ice.
“Ouch.” Kristoff winced.
“Kid’s name is Bjorn Bjornson. Started working here as a shop assistant six months ago,” said Sigurd, one of the other constables. “Nice kid, no enemies, his co-workers say, but kinda slow on the uptake.”
Kristoff began examining the ice. “Hmmm…this ice is fresh, sharp edges. This could have only happened a few minutes ago. Any witnesses?”
“Nope, Torvald kept us pretty busy,” Lars shrugged. “No one knew something was up till Bjorn went to haul in that barrel of lutefisk and didn't come back."
Meanwhile, Anna was out questioning Torvald in front of the store.
“Look, lady, I gotta business to run,” Torvald said. “I can’t keep my eyes out for every single weirdo that comes by. And are you guys going to be tying up my shop all morning?”
“This is an active investigation, Torvald, and we’ll keep the scene cordoned off for as long as we need to,” Anna said sternly.
“Eeesh, you cops are all the same,” Torvald growled. “You sure it wasn’t that sister of yours having a bad day again?”
“Hey! You leave my sister out of this!” Anna said.
“Anna, come here, you’re going to want to see this!” Kristoff called.
Anna gave Torvald a piece of parchment with her contact information on it and ran back to join Kristoff.
“What’s up?”
“Here.” Kristoff was pointing to something at the lower right corner of the ice. A pair of initials, neatly carved in Gothic letters: J.F.
Anna groaned. “He’s back…”