Page 115 of The Santa Claus Con

I snort. “You’re both wrong. You really want to like a song about a man who’s watching you sleep? No thank you. None of the versions are good.”

“Aw, come on, Lambros,” Meyers says. “Pick one.”

I wave them off. “Fine. Bing Crosby’s version. More upbeat, I guess.”

Meyers lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Wrong answer, but that one does have the extra verses so I’m not completely opposed,” Bird says, refocusing on the footage playing out on the monitor. At this point, Robb has officially checked in. All we know is that he’s booked the room that Scarlett was snooping around in. The same room Ron was in earlier.

I turn back to the song names. They’re all classics. There have been so many covers over the years of every Christmas song ever. I’m curious if there’s any one artist that Sadistic Santa might be a fan of.

Dean Martin.

Bing Crosby.

Brenda Lee.

I double back to Bing Crosby’s name. A quick search tells me that out of this list, he’s the only one who’s covered all three songs from the riddles. Interesting.

I write it out again with spaces. B—I—N—G—C—R—O—S—B—Y.

My brain takes over as the letters rearrange themselves in my mind.

Bing Crosby. Or, Robb C. Ginsy.

Is Robb C. Ginsy Sadistic Santa?

If Ron was the last person seen in Robb’s room, could they be working together? Or could Ron be Robb?

And if Robb C. Ginsy is an anagram, is Ron’s name also one?

Ron. R—O—N.

Or it’s short for Ronald. R—O—N—A—L—D.

Or… Arnold.

My heart stops.