The Case of the Anonymous Riddler

 It has been a few weeks since the sixth form term began and though initially the invasion of girls into what was previously an all male educational institution was seen with hostility and suspicion (like the landing of early pioneers in tribal lands), thanks partially to the continuous efforts by the school staff to valiantly yet awkwardly promote "Mingling" through school barbecues and tea parties, the gender barrier (which first seemed as damningly sinister as the Berlin wall and as colossal as the Great Wall of China) has been breached and so far (unlike early pioneers in tribal lands) none of the females have stolen our land, extorted our wealth, destroyed our culture or brought disease (though that may be left as an unpleasant surprise to discover when inter gender relations within sixth form penetrate new depths).

 I for one have acted as a friendly native welcoming these strangers into our lands and promptly integrating them into my personal culture (grown in a Petri dish labeled "weird and wonderful")by near forcibly converting them to my Detective Agency. With the exception of a few for whom I am yet to think of an underling name, such as Olivia (an extreme Lord of the Rings fan with whom I discuss youtube and Tolkien's work, often together), most new girls I have conversed with have gone through the initiation process of being given an underling name (by which they will be referred to for the rest of eternity... if I were to find some way to live eternally).

 Though some still refuse to accept their fate, such as Underling Salmon (an often bitingly sarcastic character, occasionally as cold in attitude as her native Iceland) most have passively joined the Detective Agency, such as Underling Spirit (A tall individual who gives off an atmosphere of gentle tranquility. Of a generous nature, so determined by myself as I borrow her Paperchase rubber every mathematics class) while some have even supported it enthusiastically, for example Underling Solo (An orange haired mistress of memory who appears to be able to remember even the slightest of personal details if mentioned once) and Underling Swirl (A french girl often adopting the appearance and attitude of a six year old with occasional glimpses of someone five times as mature).

 The incident, began last Saturday, when, with a sinister buzz heralding the arrival of a new message sent to my phone via the invisible cybernetic strings which seems to bind most of developed society today, I received a text message from an unknown number. Within the round friendly corn colored speech bubble were simply written in a collection of pitch black pixels "Only you can hear this". Ignoring the fact that it made little sense to claim anyone, not even me as suggested by the message, could actually "hear" a text, the message was quite obviously sinister (Positioned, in terms of the sinister scale, two notches above the dark and stormy night in a crumbling castle but three notches below the trench coated figure in a night time alley way).

 When I demanded the villainous sender's fiendish identity, several devious texts malevolently came flying my way, three enigmatic words:

"Ursus major perro"

 and two suspiciously traditional riddles, in which, the malicious sender claimed, menacingly, that his/her devilish identity could be discovered. Seeing this as a challenge to my not inconsiderable skills as a detective, I set to work.

 From the fact that it was an unknown number I swiftly worked out that, seeing as I updated my list of contacts roughly two weeks ago, the number could only belong to someone I had met recently or someone I had known for a while but not bothered to add to my contacts in which case they would be thoroughly dull people worthy of being disregarded by myself and thus not the sort of people to send me interesting messages, from this I immediately narrowed my list of suspects down to the new girls at the school. From there began the challenge.
 The first riddle went thus:

"A box without hinges, key or lid

 yet inside golden treasure is hid."

 After a moments thought I correctly deduced that the answer was "egg".

 However seeing as this proved no help at all, I progressed to the second riddle.

"Alive without breath,

 As cold as death;

Never thirsty; Ever drinking

All in mail never clinking"

 After a slightly longer period of thought I deduced the answer to the riddle was "fish". From there I considered all of my Underlings and the possible meaning of these questions and their respective yet equally mysterious answers. Soon I reached one conclusion, an Underling mildly malicious enough to attempt to harass me in this way whose number I didn't have and who was associated with "fish"... Underling Salmon. It seemed to make sense, the pieces falling into place, however I couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something more to these riddles. Ignoring this I continued with my hypothesis, perhaps "ursus major perro" was a constellation found in the general direction of Iceland?

 With this thought in mind I contacted Underling Butler (A snide but intelligent underling with a wide knowledge of astronomy and zoology who surrounds himself with too many books and too few friends). "Yes, what is it?" he questioned irritably upon answering the phone, his posh accent and upper class pronunciation galloping through the mobile phone connection like a polo pony through the town center.

 "It is I, Veritable Galanthus," I announced as per usual, "great detective and your immediate superior. I have a request, underling Butler."

 "What is it O' Great detective?" he muttered sarcastically, a mixture of mocking amusement clinging to his tone like stench of garlic to breath, the sort of insulting condescending manner of speech that will cause problems for him later in life. Ignoring his attitude, I gave the rough context, including the precise nature of the riddles and proceeded to inquire about the words "Ursus Major Perro".

 "I'm terribly sorry," he responded after a moment of thought, using the malignant tone of voice that has so permeated the core of his very being that nothing short of surgery could remove it, "But I can't say I know what that means beyond that it has something to do with a great bear. Whatever it is its not a constellation."

 "Well, you're useless," I concluded, "Farewell."

 "Oh," exclaimed Underling Butler a moment before I hung up, "the riddles you mentioned are both from the Hobbit though."

 As those words rang in my ear, the metaphorical penny began its slow earth bound journey, plummeting through many meters of air as cognitive gravity gradually but inevitably took hold. Then after a minute of silent vertical descent, it hit the ground of understanding with a reverberating metallic clink of comprehension. "Olivia!" I shouted.

 I later learned from her that "Ursus Major Perro" or "great bear perro" was a reference to the surreal animated youtube video, "Mr Ando of the Woods" which she showed me: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iqzt3T4R38c

Perhaps Underling Sinister would be a good name...