It was 11:45 p.m. and Mort and Blake arrived at 115 B.E. Blake open the door and Camilla was there, as usual, welcoming them, her tail was wagging like a fan. Blake hunched down and caressed her then went upstairs simultaneously with Mort.

Blake rotated the handle and the door flung open. They entered a step inside and perceived a piece of music playing. When they turned to watch, they spotted a music box encircled by the piles-of-scattered-paper desk with a petite ballet dancer pirouetting and gyrating about upon it. The music box was playing a song with the following lyrics:

Old King Cole
Was a merry old soul,
And a merry old soul was he;

He called for his pipe,
And he called for his bowl,
And he called for his fiddlers three!

And every fiddler, he had a fine fiddle,
And a very fine fiddle had he.
"Twee tweedle dee, tweedle dee," went the fiddlers.

Oh, there's none so rare
As can compare
With King Cole and his fiddlers three.

Blake and Mort stood still, dumbfounded. When the music finished, there was a pause of a second then an anonymous voice spoke, "This box will be destroyed in..."

Blake's mind worked in a flash. His eyes rolled down and met the bottom side. He watched over the floor's tiles. Nine tiles ahead. Skipping one tile in between would do it. 

Blake spontaneously acted. He stepped on the first tile and the unidentified voice spoke simultaneously, "7..." 

Blake jumped in the third, "9..."

He hopped again into the sequence he produced in his mind, "2... 0... 1..."

As Blake arrived at the desk, the box ruptured into multi-coloured flickering and flittering confetti. Blake stopped at once, sat on the stool and took the box. There was a letter inside. He caught it and read it:

Hated Mr Blake Edward,

I know that you'll be unfortunately ungrateful about this little prank of mine... but things have changed... Boring is becoming interesting! 

Let's play a murderous hide-and-seek. If you are lacking some physical and mental activity, I've created a game, a game where the rope attached to the handle which when turned unshackles the clockwork can help along with the miniature ballet dancer and the music. 

Think quick! Because when the clock ticks.. 3... 2... 1... midnight starts which mean that the game starts. Farewell! Cheerio! 79201 

Yours evilly,

King

As Blake terminated to read the letter, the sticking bell gonged along with Big Ben's.  He stood up, turned and told Mort, "Check all ballet dancing shows starting now."

   "Yes, there is one on Axel Street, Axel Street at the Theodore Theatre," Mort said.

   "How do you know?" asked an anxious Blake.

   "Simply read it in the newspaper," replied Mort, cooly.

Blake turned at the music box and murmured to himself, "Rope, ballet, music. Music? Old King Cole." he paused then, turning to Mort he said, "Let's go to Theodore Threatre!"

...

They caught a cabby and reached the show, entering the theatre. There was already a crowd of people there and white-dressed girls ballet-dancing on the stage, moving with gracefully and balletically smooth and fluid movements. It was dainty and gentle along. Moving about lithe and supple emotions, appearing very fluent and feline. It was cleanly and delicately performed along with the fluency, filled with grace. Dancing lightly with rhythmic steps along with the classical music playing on the background. It was slickly rock-steady. The music was "Swan Lake" by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. 

Blake and Mort jostled through the crowd and as they got deeper the more the song arisen in pitch. 

   "What are you searching for?" Mort asked, pantingly. 

   "Rope, ballet dancer and the music, 'Old King Cole',  can signify murder by strangling any of the ballet dancers and the music can relate in the name of the murderer," Blake explained, the two of them moving into the backstage. A few people were helping themselves in the camera coverage. Blake studied them doggedly and said, "None of them." Then, turning back, he noticed someone walking up the large metal-made beam ceilings of the theatre. 

   "Quick! Gendarme! Take over!" Blake cried.

   "Take cover?"

   "No! Take over!" Blake said, pointing upwards. 

Mort looked at the direction he pointed and spotted the man. "Ok! you take the left and I the right! Alright!" 

   "Ok..." Mort said getting on the left and climbing up the ladder along with Blake on the right. 

They took minutes to get up but perceived no one. "Where is he?" murmured Blake to himself, looking all around.

Just then, they heard a gunshot and everyone in the theatre hall rushed out, panic-stricken.

   "Dear, Mort, I think that the game is over," Blake commented.

...