This was inspired by the Inappropriate Elf Challenge.
The Burgomaster's heavy brows lowered menacingly. "He's what?"
The High Constable shifted his weight nervously. "He's back."
"The Horseman didn't lop his head off? You said it was a sure thing! I thought I would never have to hear his insolence again."
"We could try again, sir," the High Constable blurted. When his superior merely glared without speaking, he went on, "I have heard of another secluded hamlet with a dangerous secret, which he will be too skeptical about to protect himself."
"Every thirteen years, a door into the land of the Sidhe opens on the full moon. It's due to open soon."
"And how will this rid us of that whey-faced corpse-cutter and his infernal scientific experimentations?"
"Oh, the Fae will spirit him away and not return him till a hundred years hence. They do it all the time."
"And how do we know they'll spirit him away?"
"The Fae have a keen eye for beauty. His pretty face will charm them till their toes curl."
The Burgomaster gave the High Constable a wary look. "That reminds me. I've been meaning to ask exactly why you've tolerated that meddling detective thus far."
The High Constable stood up straighter, stammering. Perhaps he had revealed more than he meant to, this time.