The Man Who Preached the Funeral

Just a flying visit to bring you part 40 of “A Couple of Tenors Short”.

Another difficult track lyric that provides the title, but as always, I give you the answer.

OK, the quiz question out of the way, here is my mantra. This is a serial. Any new-joiners should start with the opener known as Part One.    

The troublesome recap has now settled into its new home. You can find the recap here!

Now read on...

The lift doors opened. The lift greeted the pair with a quote from The Simpsons in the original Greek.

The security man pressed the button for the ground floor, waited for the lift to start to move and then pressed the stop button. The lift gave a shudder and halted between floors.

“Inspector, we do have a leak.” The security man turned and faced Jones. “You were right, it was one of my men who reviewed the CCTV footage with your constable, but none of my men were authorised to talk to Sir Terrence.”

“I didn’t tell my men where we were going until we were in the car. Unless...” Jones stroked his moustache. “Unless one of them made contact while I was inside the club.”

“It is a most irritating complication.” David Heatherington withdrew a business card from his backpack and gave it to Jones. “This makes it all the more imperative we co-operate fully. That is if you feel that you can trust me?”

Jones turned the business card over in his fingers and said nothing.

“Inspector, the reason I am interested in this case is because of the interest of Sir Terrence Cauldron – not on his behalf.” Heatherington placed the bag on the floor then clasped his hands together. “There is always curiosity about ambitious men and sometimes there is a need to clarify the methods such men are willing to employ to satiate that ambition.”

“Are you saying that people suspect that Cauldron is planning a coup?” Jones asked incredulously

“Sir Terence is a very rich man. He made a fortune with his electronics business to add to the family fortune before he reached the age of thirty.” Heatherington stared at the ceiling of the lift. “He then entered politics and within three years became a cabinet minister and the darling of the media. Such success can invoke jealousies.”

“So somebody asked you to find something that would slow his progress down.” Jones sneered.

“Inspector, let’s just say that we were asked to make sure that we were getting exactly what was written on the tin.” The security man looked at the inspector and raised his eyebrows.

“I see. So just where did our two investigations start to overlap?” Jones asked flatly.

“Around the time that Sir Andrew Witherspoon felt the need to inform Cauldron of his meeting with Vera Adkins.” Heatherington sighed. “But I cannot explain why.”

“You mean you won’t explain.” Jones snapped back.

“No, I do mean cannot.” The security man shook his head. “So many of the files seem to be missing and my normally reliable memory keeps failing me. Yet, everyone else seems to rationalise and accept it all as being perfectly normal.”

“The whole world is out of step except me.” Jones mumbled.

“A very apt phrase! There is something that enables you to see things that others, including myself, seem to miss.” the security man jabbed a finger towards Jones. “Take the fish and chip wrappers for instance. Everyone reads their fish and chip wrappers as they eat from them, yet you are the only person who noticed that story. Such is the hysteria of the moment, I find that... odd.”

David Heatherington leaned slightly towards Jones and waited for a response.

“Oh come on, are you suggesting that I had something to do with it?” Jones looked at Heatherington open mouthed.

“It was a theory I briefly considered, along with others equally ludicrous, but did you?” Heatherington asked flatly.

“Of course not.” Jones spoke emphatically, but couldn’t hold the gaze of the security man.

Let's Pack Up and Start Again

Here is part 36 of “A Couple of Tenors Short”.

After yesterday, where I thought the quiz question was so easy that I felt I could afford to advertise  mugs, I have never even heard of the band let alone the track for today’s title.  

Anyway, so I need to give you the answer.

Plus, if you want to read a really fantastic blog entry, you could do a lot worse than go here.

OK, the quiz question out of the way, here is my mantra. This is a serial. Any new-joiners should start with the opener known as Part One.    

The troublesome recap has now settled into its new home. You can find the recap here!

Now read on...

After the interview concluded, Inspector Jones and Sir Andrew Witherspoon stood outside the interview room watching Smithy and a constable taking Dunker Phil back to the cells.

“You will, of course, be bailing my client.” Sir Andrew stated flatly.

“We’ll see.” Jones continued to watch the trio making their way down the corridor. “I’ll need a signed statement from Dunker detailing what he said in the interview. Once I have that, I’ll think about it.”

“Get your sergeant to draw one up and I’ll give it the once over and get Phillip to sign it.” Sir Andrew smiled “Then we’ll talk again about bail. I would not like to have to go to a higher authority.”

“We’ll see, but there are still some gaps.” Jones sighed deeply and turned to look at Sir Andrew. “I want to know more about this Sergei character and who it was who opened up the club. It could be that Dunker is holding something back.”

 “I believe he has told you everything he knows, Inspector.” Sir Andrew spoke softly. “It is I who has held something back. I was at the Craven Meeting at Newmarket on the 15^th and I saw Vera with Veronica and Violet. There is no way they could have been in the club at lunchtime. They were there when I arrived just after 12 and I saw them again in the parade ring with a horse their father part owned that ran in the first race. ”

“You? A guest of the Adkins?” Jones looked wide-eyed at Sir Andrew.

“Oh no!” Sir Andrew gave a hefty bass guffaw. “No, I was with another party. It was just pure co-incidence that I saw them.”

Jones swore under his breath.

Back at his desk, with Smithy drawing up a statement, Jones rang the McRamie house. The phone was quickly answered by the butler. Jones had him check if any luggage or any of Archie’s clothes were missing. The butler was adamant that there wasn’t, but Jones had him go check. Several minutes later, the butler returned to the line and confirmed that nothing was missing.

Carefully replacing the receiver, Jones leant back in his chair and stroked his moustache as he stared at the ceiling.

With a large sigh, Jones shook his head and started working on the case notes.

A little while later, suddenly aware of somebody stood next to his desk, Jones looked up to find Sir Andrew Witherspoon at his side.

“I thought I would bring you this myself” Sir Andrew handed Jones a signed copy of Dunker’s statement.

Jones took the offered papers and read through them slowly.

“Perhaps we should talk about bail for Mr Duncan now?”  Sir Andrew waited patiently until Jones placed the statement on his desk.

“He doesn’t want bail, guv.” Smithy spoke as he came across the office to the Inspector’s desk. “He wants us to give him protection.”

Jones looked up at Sir Andrew and raised a querying eyebrow.

“My client is understandably concerned.” Sir Andrew ran the palms of his hands over his trousers. “But I am willing to have him released into my custody and I will make all of the arrangements to ensure his security. I have a friend who has a place in the West Country where he can stay.”

“This friend.” Jones turned so he was able to see Sir Andrew’s face clearly. “Would this be the person who is picking up your bill?”

“Come now, Inspector” Sir Andrew gave a light laugh. “You know that I cannot discuss that with you.”

“Indeed.” Jones paused, pursed his lips and stroked his moustache. “I’m certain that you weren’t retained by the Adkins family. After all, they have their own solicitors who would deal with these type of matters.”

“Inspector, I really cannot discuss this with you.” Sir Andrew shifted slightly.

“So, if it wasn’t the Adkins family who retained your services, it must have been somebody else.” Jones paused and watched Sir Andrew closely. “I would guess that it was Sir Terrence Cauldron.”

There was the faintest of twitches around Sir Andrew’s right eye.

“As I say, Inspector.” Sir Andrew smiled broadly. “I cannot discuss the matter, but if you will not discuss bail, I will have to find somebody who will.”

Sir Andrew turned on his heel and walked from the office, swearing under his breath.

When I See You Out and About It's Such a Crime

Here is part 35 of “A Couple of Tenors Short”. As the track title is so easy today, I have not chosen a picture relating to the artist. Instead I have found this fantastic idea for those of you who love dunking biscuits. This astounding mug can be found here!

At this point I was going to wax lyrical about the ultimate tea dunking experience of the Tim Tam Kiss – only to find that my original blog post on that subject is somewhere in the black hole that was 360. You’ll just have to take my word on that.

The title for today’s instalment is taken from a track by an artist who celebrates a milestone birthday today. It is an easy one, but any excuse to listen to and sing along with the answer.

OK, the quiz question out of the way, here is my mantra. This is a serial. Any new-joiners should start with the opener known as Part One.    

The troublesome recap has now settled into its new home. You can find the recap here!

Now read on...

Sir Andrew gave a sigh, shook his head and leant forward. “Inspector, I wonder if I might have a few moments alone with my client.

Ten minutes later, they convened again.

“So, Dunker. Are you ready to tell me what happened?” The inspector sat back in his chair and folded his arms.

“Inspector, my client assures me that he has nothing to do with the disappearance of Mr McRamie and will co-operate fully.” Sir Andrew scowled at Dunker Phil who looked sheepishly down into his own lap.

“That will be refreshing.” Jones looked at Sir Andrew and raised an eyebrow. “In your own time then Dunker.”

“I was just clearing up in the bar when I get a call from the office and I was told to follow Archie McRamie home. He was going to pack a few things and then I was to bring him back to the club.” Dunker looked at the Inspector and then his solicitor. “I go to the car and Darrius was already in the driver’s seat so I sit beside him and we follow him. Only when we gets close to the house, he suddenly stops the car and runs off. That’s the last I saw of him, Honest, Inspector Jones, the last I saw of him he was running off down the road like a scalded ferret.”

“Back up a bit, Dunker.” Smithy interjected. “Why did you get in his car?”

“What is it your Guv’ner calls it? Gut instinct?” Dunker gave a weak laugh. “We are there at the garage, watching him put all this juice in his car and suddenly we think he might be figuring to travel further than just his house, so I go and sit with him in his car, just in case.”

“We? Just who is this we, Dunker” Inspector Jones asked.

“Darrius and me.” Dunker looked at his solicitor. “That’s why I got out of the car at the petrol station. Only McRamie wasn’t keen and we exchanged words.”

“Who was in the back of the Oldsmobile, Dunker?” Jones asked quietly.

“Nobody.” Dunker scratched his nose.

“OK.” Jones gave a sigh. “Sir Andrew, I am going to put your client back in the cells and we will interview him again later. It is clear that he is not willing to co-operate as much as you led me to believe.”

Sir Andrew scowled at his client. “My client’s memory is hampered by the stress of his arrest. I’m sure if you give him a few moments to collect his thoughts, he will be able to assist you.”

Smith and Jones leant back in their chairs and crossed their arms. A silence descended on the room as all eyes stared at Dunker Phil.

“His name is Sergei, some Russian guy.” Dunker’s shoulder’s drooped as he spoke at last.  “Apart from that I know nothin’ about him. Not seen him before. Not seen him since.”

“Yet you took orders from him.” Jones fixed Dunker with a stare.

“He was in the office, so he must be important.” Dunker threw up his hands, before adding, “besides, you don’t want to get on the wrong side of the sisters.”

The interview continued in fits and starts with the Inspector slowly extracting the full story from Dunker Phil like an arthritic dentist pulling recalcitrant molars.

Dunker and Darrius arrived at the club to find it unlocked and a ‘Do Not Disturb’ board outside the office. They didn’t know who was in the office until they got the call from Sergei telling them to follow Archie McRamie to the house.  When they pulled into the garage, they had doubts over whether Archie was going to try to get away, there had been a brief argument and Sergei had told him to travel in Archie’s car.

They were getting close to Archie’s house when Dunker’s phone rang. As Dunker fumbled to get his phone out of his pocket, Archie suddenly stopped and ran out of the car. Next thing he knew, Sergei was sprinting down the road and shouting for Dunker to wait in the Oldsmobile.

About 10 minutes later, they got another call from Sergei saying that everything was OK and they were to return to the club. So they did.

When they got back to the club, Dunker had gone to clear up the office and found three cups and plates. One of the cups had lipstick on it.

Jones looked at his notes and was about to wind up the interview when he stopped and stroked his moustache. “The club was unlocked when you arrived at 11am?”

“Yeah” Dunker nodded.

“Who holds keys for the club?” the Inspector asked

“Just the Adkins sisters and Darrius” Dunker replied.

“Thank you, Phil. Most helpful. ” Inspector Jones gave a grin and waved a finger in the air.

He's my confectionary ice cream Joe

The horror! Due to some strange twists in the fabric of reality, I have discovered that I have somehow managed to get a mismatch between the numbering of the parts on my blog and on my manuscript!

So, my fine yeomen, we find ourselves visiting part 31 of “A Couple of Tenors Short” for a second time. Rest assured that although the part numbers are the same, the actual content is different. Yes, I know, I have been a naughty boy. I shall be seeking volunteers to administer the spanking later.

It does make it rather difficult with the title, picture and quiz question. I fear you are left with an absolute stinker related the number 31.

It seems to be a tradition now that I also give you the answer. Yes, it was so obscure I couldn’t find the actual song, but the group are better known for this.

OK, the quiz questions out of the way, here is my mantra. This is a serial. Any new-joiners should start with the opener known as Part One.    

The troublesome recap has now settled into its new home. You can find the recap here!

Now read on...

Violet Adkins glided across the thick pile carpet and gestured to a chair opposite Vera Adkins. “Please, take a seat, inspector.”

Jones thanked her and sat down in the chair. Smithy sat at end of the table, three seats down from Jones. Violet walked round the table and took a seat next to Vera.

“I’d like to say it is a pleasure to meet you again, Inspector” Vera spoke icily, raised an eyebrow and paused before adding. “How can we help you?”

“We are investigating a suspicious disappearance. “Jones rested his arms on the table and clasped his hands together. “We believe that one of your employees may be able to help with our enquiries.”

“I can assure you that we run a legitimate business here, inspector.” Vera’s voice cracked slightly. “We would not sanction...”

Her voice trailed off when Violet gripped her arm.

“I’m not suggesting otherwise, Ms Adkins.” Jones smiled broadly. “However, we have reason to believe that one of your employees was a material witness to the disappearance and was seen in the area in a black Oldsmobile registered to Horace Adkins Entertainment Ltd. We would just like ask Dunker Phil a few questions.”

“The Oldsmobile is a general pool car, inspector.” Vera looked at him through narrowed eyes. “If it is not in use for clients or the family, employees can use it.”

“So I understand.” Jones gave Vera a smile. “Do you keep a log of the journeys by any chance?”

“No, inspector.” Veronica spoke for the first time. “Our clients often appreciate our discretion when it comes to publicity and the like. So we do not make their comings and goings a matter of record.”

There was a knock on the door and a young girl dressed as a French maid entered carrying a tray of tea. She brushed against Jones as she placed it on the table and when he caught her eye she gave him a wink.

A few moments later, The Baker entered with a tray of sandwiches and cake. He glared at Jones and then announced he’d been unable to find Dunker Phil. Violet instructed him to keep looking.

The maid served tea.

“Milk and sugar, inspector?” Violet asked sweetly. “And your... companion?”

The made stiffened and looked at Jones and then Smithy. She hurriedly served the tea with milk and sugar without waiting for any response. After placing the cups in front of the policemen, she rushed from the room.

“I see.” Jones slowly took a sip of tea. “Last Thursday afternoon, the 14^th. Do you happen to know who was using the car then?”

“I’m afraid we cannot help, inspector.” Violet smiled at Jones without glancing at her sisters.

“That is a shame.” Jones smiled sweetly in return. “Simply for the record, you understand, could three of you confirm where you where on Thursday afternoon?”

“Of course we can, Inspector.” Veronica spoke and gave a little start as Vera dug her in the ribs with an elbow. “We were hosting a few friends at Newmarket races.”

“Thank you.” Jones stroked his moustache. “Has any of you seen Archie McRamie recently?”

“Who?” Vera looked at her sisters in turn.

“He’s the writer fellow who did father’s book.” Violet patted Vera’s arm. “He was at one of Adkin’s Brewery’s publicity events a couple of weeks ago, I chatted to him briefly.”

“Oh yes, that’s right.” Veronica chipped in. “I saw him a couple of days later at some drinks party, but we didn’t speak.”

The phone on the table behind the Adkins sisters rang. Vera answered it and spoke briefly.

“Oh dear.” She turned back and gave the inspector a tight lipped smile. “It appears that Dunker has a family emergency to deal with and has travelled up North somewhere to handle it. I’m afraid it won’t be possible for you to talk with him.”

“How... unfortunate.” Jones rose from his seat. “I’m so grateful for your time.”

“Oh please, inspector.” Violet pushed the plate of cakes toward him. “You must try one of Darrius’s creations. They’re to die for you know.”

Jones looked at the plate and then deep into Violet’s eyes before declining the offer. Turning on his heel, he strode out of the room. Smithy scampered along behind. As Jones shut the door, he heard the three sisters burst out laughing.

I Hope They Don't Stop At My Door

We find ourselves gathered around the portal leading to part 28 of “A Couple of Tenors Short”.

As with most of the posts for this novel in my blog, the title is taken from a song lyric with some kind of associated picture to give you a clue. This one was going to be called “Dance ballerina girl, go go go!", but it got hijacked. This first title is linked to the number 28.

The actual title, ‘I hope they don't stop at my door’, cropped up when I was looking up an image. The title of the track is somewhere in the story and the artist is in the picture.

OK, the quiz questions out of the way, here is my mantra. This is a serial. Any new-joiners should start with the alien vibration known as Part One.    

And having escaped the mantra, With that out of the way, I shall fling you headlong into a recap that is getting out of all control. It would be great if somebody could come up with a better way to deal with this recap beast. It is getting quite unwieldy.

The world has gone mad. Inspector Glynn Jones believes that everyone else is out of step not him. A view encouraged by the man from the State Security Services, dressed in green lycra, he discovered in his kitchen. Later, when trying an experiment, the engraving on his wedding ring mysteriously changed when Pippa gave a different wedding day for their marriage than was originally on the ring.

Jones has no recollection of any marriage, but he is finding being hitched to Pippa Hucknell, an investigative journalist, rather enjoyable. Other events are not so pleasurable. He has found that he driving a rather chirpy, lime green Datsun Cherry that behaves like a puppy; suffered numerous random wardrobe malfunctions; keeps re-growing a ginger moustache; bet against his own station in the upcoming police light entertainment championships; had run in with gangs of Buddhist monks; had one of his team hospitalised by the feral Girl Guides and found the camp Sat-Nav unit in the pink Mark III Ford Zephyr is developing a personality and cannot be switched off.

Then there are the strange cases he has to solve, the abduction of Archie McRamie, the theft of industrial generators, forged tickets for the Light Entertainment Championships, feral Girl Guides, the smuggling of illegal Macramé yarn, a suspected murder of a ‘John Doe’ dragged from the Thames, and the disappearance of a number of petty criminals.

Doctor Wilkins, the famous TV Pathologist, has confirmed the unknown swimmer drowned in the Thames after taking a large high tea. The Fruit Fancies of his last meal are being linked to Darrius ‘The Baker’ Kipling. Darrius and Dunker Phil both work for Horace Adkins, the beloved Barbers Shop Quartet impresario who is presumed dead after a massive explosion at his Georgian Mansion which the local police have suggested was suicide.

Archie McRamie is a best-selling author credited with the book ‘The Cat Crowed at a Little After Two-thirty’. The main character in the book appears to be Horace Adkins. However, it appears that it is his wife and secretary, Elspeth Periwinkle that writes all his books.

Constable Rory Tiddles has found some interesting CCTV footage related to the abduction of Archie McRamie. It shows Dunker Phil climbing into Archie’s car at a filling station unchallenged.

Darrius ‘The Baker’ Kipling and Dunker Phil were observed with Vera Anne Adkins and Violet Ann Adkins, two of Horace’s daughters, visiting the offices of London’s premier trial lawyers, Witherspoon, Lewes, Grambling, and Witherspoon. Vera Adkins had gone there to instigate a defamation case, but her sister Violet arrived and talked her out of it.

Jones has had a meeting with his Superintendant and a man from the State Security Services who were very interested in finding out why this visit took place, but have told the Inspector that he will be disowned if his investigation results in adverse public opinion. After reading an old newspaper that once wrapped a fish supper, Jones believes he now has the answer.

I hope that has made everything clear? Oh well, at least I tried.

Now read on...

Back inside the station, Jones sought out Sergeant Collins. The sergeant was sat behind a pile of paper. When Jones approached, Collins put down his pen and stood up.

“So, was the chippy open?” Collins asked

“Fred opened up just for me.” Jones gave a grin. “Look, I need some uniform back-up in about half an hour. I’m going to pick up... errr... pick up a suspect.”

“Sure, I think I can manage that.” Collins paused and rubbed his chin slowly. “Glynn, we go back a long way. I remember you as a fresh-faced kid when you blew in from the valleys.”

Jones nodded.

“I’m worried about you, Glynn.” Collins spoke softly. “You seem to be trying to do everything yourself. You seem to have forgotten that to be a good copper you need trust and teamwork.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you.” Jones waved his hands as he spoke. “It’s just... the whole world seems...”

The two men looked at each other as Jones grappled with his thoughts.

“It’s complicated.” Jones broke the sergeant’s gaze. “It’s like the world keeps changing around me. I need to be able to trust myself first.”

“You’ve been working too hard. Maybe you need a break.” Collins raised an eyebrow. “Not that you will take a break. But if you won’t do that, you need to find somebody to trust – and you know that I’ll be here if you need me.

Jones nodded. “Thanks.”

“Just remember what I said. You’re no good to anybody in a rubber room.” Collins pointed an accusing finger at the Inspector.

Jones gave a half-hearted laugh and then headed back to his desk.

After locking one of the two DVDs and one of the envelopes in his top drawer, Jones rang the Superintendant. It was answered by his receptionist who insisted that any appointment with the Superintendant was impossible before Tuesday. Jones scowled and told her to tell him that he wanted to update him on Vera Adkins meeting at Witherspoon, Lewes, Grambling, and Witherspoon. Jones heard voices in the background before the receptionist returned to the line and informed the inspector he could have a brief audience at 4 o’clock that afternoon.

Jones carefully replaced the receiver and swore under his breath.

For the next 20 minutes, he busied himself typing up his notes.

“Right then!” Jones shouted and slapped his hands down on the desk. “Smithy, fire up the Zephyr! Brown, Johnson, you’re with us. We’re going visiting!”

The detectives trailed in Inspector Jones’s wake as he strode from the office. In the car park, the rendezvoused with six uniformed constables who clambered aboard a police camper van when they arrived. The driver asked Jones where they were heading. Jones only told them to follow the Zephyr.

When all of the detectives were in the Zephyr, Smithy started the engine.

“Where to, guv?” Smithy asked.

“Oh, yes, please tell us, sweetie. I do just love an outing” the sat-nav piped in.

Jones prodded the off switch on the sat-nav.

“Stop that! It tickles!” the sat-nav giggled and refused to switch off.

“We are going to the Red, White and Blue club.” Jones announced.

“Oh, super!” the sat-nav cut in. “A show, I do so love a good show.”

“The Red, White and Blue club? Horace Adkins’s Red, White and Blue club?” Smithy queried.

“Are we picking up The Baker, guv?”  Johnson asked from the back seat.

“Yes, Horace Adkins’s club.” Jones gave a sigh. “And, no, until we have all the test results, I want to keep my powder dry for The Baker.”

“Oh very droll.” The sat-nav interrupted. “Powder, dry, baker, get it? Ooo you are a tough audience. At the entrance to the car park, turn right.”

Jones kept pressing the off switch to no effect. “We are going to invite Dunker Phil to come in for a chat. It looks like he was the last person to see Archie McRamie before he vanished.”

Aunt Milly Ran Willy Nilly

It is my birthday today. In a rather odd reversal of tradition, I bring you the present of part twenty-two of “A Couple of Tenors Short.”

Remember boys and girls, this is a serial. Any new-joiners should attempt the standard loin girding and start with Part One.    

Should you be rejoining the story, or do not have the inclination to read the previous parts, allow me to recap. Disclaimer: There has been so much going on that this summary is proving very difficult to keep to reasonable length. It could be that I miss important facts!

Inspector Glynn Jones thought he was going mad, but after finding the man from the State Security Services in his kitchen dressed in a green lycra body suit, he is not so sure. He tried an experiment with the engraving on his wedding ring and discovered that it mysteriously changed when Pippa gave a different wedding day for their marriage than was on the ring.

Although he has found himself married to Pippa Hucknell, he appears content with the arrangement, even though the world around him continues to confuse. He has found that he driving a rather chirpy, lime green Datsun Cherry that behaves like a puppy; suffered numerous random wardrobe malfunctions; keeps re-growing a ginger moustache; bet against his own station in the upcoming police light entertainment championships; had run in with gangs of Buddhist monks; had one of his team hospitalised by the feral Girl Guides and found the camp Sat-Nav unit in the pink Mark III Ford Zephyr is developing a personality and cannot be switched off.

Then there are the strange cases he has to solve, the abduction of Archie McRamie, the theft of industrial generators, forged tickets for the Light Entertainment Championships, feral Girl Guides, the smuggling of illegal Macramé yarn, and a suspected murder of a ‘John Doe’ dragged from the Thames.

Since the case started, Doctor Wilkins, the famous TV Pathologist has confirmed the unknown swimmer drowned in the Thames after taking a large high tea. The Fruit Fancies of his last meal are being linked to Darrius ‘The Baker’ Kipling. Darrius works for Horace Adkins, the beloved Barbers Shop Quartet impresario who is presumed dead after a massive explosion at his Georgian Mansion which the local police have suggested was suicide.

It turns out that the missing author, Archie McRamie did not write ‘The Cat Crowed at a Little After Two-thirty’. The main character in the book appears to be Horace Adkins.

Darrius ‘The Baker’ Kipling and Dunker Phil, another of Adkins employees, were observed with Vera Anne Adkins and Violet Ann Adkins, two of Horace’s daughters, visiting the offices of London’s premier trial lawyers, Witherspoon, Lewes, Grambling, and Witherspoon. Vera Adkins had gone there to instigate a defamation case, but her sister Violet arrived and talked her out of it.

Jones has had a meeting with his Superintendant and a man from the State Security Services who were very interested in finding out why this visit took place, but have told the Inspector that he will be disowned if his investigation results in adverse public opinion. The State Security man has also suggested that he does not believe the book is the cause of the defamation case.

Now read on...

Inspector Jones looked at the doodle of a Stirling Engine on his notepad and then at Joanne Schooner. Running his hand over the back of his neck he leant back in his chair.

“So if Archie McRamie didn’t write the book, just who did?” he shook his head slightly as he spoke.

“Oh dear. Look, Inspector, this is one of the best kept secrets in the industry. I can rely on your total discretion, can’t I?” Jo tried her best impression of an abandoned puppy.

“I’ll do my best, but this is a police investigation and we do need to find Archie. So no promises.” Jones had never been one for puppies.

Joanne Schooner pursed her lips and stared at the far wall for a few moments. “All of Archie’s books are written by his rather talented and downtrodden wife of his, Elspeth Periwinkle.”

“The secretary?” Jones examined Jo through narrowed eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Oh yes, Inspector. Very sure.” Jo smiled and gently preened her chaotic blond hair. “I introduced them. In a professional capacity, you understand. Archie had done one of his ludicrous adventures where he crossed Africa by some convoluted contraption and he needed a ghost writer. I’d seen some of Elspeth’s work, so I suggested she do the writing.”

“You said wife.”

“I did, Inspector.” Jo leaned forward and continued in a whisper. “Archie has an ego that is more than big enough for the two of them. It works really well for them. Elspeth does all the writing and Archie gets all the limelight to fan that ego of his.”

“A marriage of convenience then.” Jones curled his top lip.

“Oh no, Inspector. Certainly not!” Jo Schooner slammed her hands down onto the arm of her wingback chair. “I believe they really are in love. Archie thinks the world of that girl and despite what you may read in the gossip columns, has never even looked at another woman since they met.”

Jones took a deep breath and ran both his forefingers over his moustache. “So how did the book come about?”

“I’m not absolutely sure, Inspector.” Jo gave a shrug. “I think they were approached by one of the Adkins family.”

“It appears very detailed, full of very specific details. How on earth would they be able to get all those details?” Inspector Jones pressed.

“Ahhh! That I do know!” Jo punctuated her statement with a waving finger. “Horace Adkins told them the whole story and insisted that none of the details be changed.”

“None of them? The book has Adkins smuggling, performing industrial espionage and even murdering people.”

The lights in the interview room dimmed. Jo sat in her chair with a furrowed brow, her knuckles white as she gripped the arms of the wingback chair.

“He did it for the government! Yes, that’s it!” Jo gave a broad grin. “Horace Adkins wanted the country to know about his patriotic exploits!”

The lights in the interview room slowly regained their brightness as Jones scribbled on his notepad.

“How on earth did Elspeth manage to overcome that shyness of hers to interview Adkins?” Jones drew a passable wallflower next to a picture of a blacked out lightbulb on his notepad.

“Oh she didn’t. Elspeth gave Archie a list of questions, he did all the interviews and taped them for Elspeth.”

“Did Adkins go to Archie’s house for the interviews?”

“Oh no, Horace couldn’t go there, he...” Jo suddenly stopped.

The lights in the room went out. The hum of the air-conditioning stopped. The only sound in the room was Jo’s rasping breath. Even in the darkened room, she was noticeably paler. She was sweating as her mouth opened and closed. She slapped her hand down on the arms of the chair.

“He insisted that Archie go to his house in Hertfordshire for the interviews” The words suddenly flooded out of Jo before she collapsed back in the chair with a huge sigh.

A few seconds later the lights and the air-conditioning came back on.

Time for a Winterfest Polka

Over the last few days I have been distracted by the UK election. With the dust beginning to settle, I can now yell ‘Here it is!’  “A Couple of Tenors Short” reaches part twenty-one without anyone suggesting a mad themed party. I was told this story is a touch eccentric. I read it again, but I can’t see it myself. Am I missing something? Never mind. For those of you who do not speak Datsun, I had considered inserting sub-titles, but it is the 21^st century, everybody speaks Datsun, don’t they?

OK, here is the standard bit about this being a serial and advising any new-joiners to take their dried frog pills and start with Part One.    

Should you be rejoining the story, or do not have the inclination to read the previous parts, allow me to recap (which hasn’t really changed, but TODAY, well you have to read it to see if I am about to deliver a humdinger of a plot twist).

Inspector Glynn Jones thought he was going mad, but after finding the man from the State Security Services in his kitchen dressed in a green lycra body suit, he is not so sure. He tried an experiment with the engraving on his wedding ring and discovered that it mysteriously changed when Pippa gave a different wedding day for their marriage than was on the ring.

Although he has found himself married to Pippa Hucknell, he appears content with the arrangement, even though the world around him continues to confuse. He has found that he driving a rather chirpy, lime green Datsun Cherry that behaves like a puppy; suffered numerous random wardrobe malfunctions; keeps re-growing a ginger moustache; bet against his own station in the upcoming police light entertainment championships; had run in with gangs of Buddhist monks; had one of his team hospitalised by the feral Girl Guides and found the camp Sat-Nav unit in the pink Mark III Ford Zephyr is developing a personality and cannot be switched off.

Then there are the strange cases he has to solve, the abduction of Archie McRamie, the theft of industrial generators, forged tickets for the Light Entertainment Championships, feral Girl Guides, the smuggling of illegal Macramé yarn, and a suspected murder of a ‘John Doe’ dragged from the Thames.

Since the case started, Doctor Wilkins, the famous TV Pathologist has confirmed the unknown swimmer drowned in the Thames after taking a large high tea. The Fruit Fancies of his last meal are being linked to Darrius ‘The Baker’ Kipling. Darrius works for Horace Adkins, the beloved Barbers Shop Quartet impresario who is presumed dead after a massive explosion at his Georgian Mansion which the local police have suggested was suicide.

After finding a copy of ‘The Cat Crowed at a Little After Two-thirty’ by Archie McRamie in which the main character appears to be Horace Adkins, he decides to pay the author a visit only to find that both he and Smithy had been there before but cannot remember anything about it. Not only does he discover the McRamie abduction, but that all records relating to the case have vanished.

Darrius ‘The Baker’ Kipling and Dunker Phil, another of Adkins employees, were observed with Vera Anne Adkins and Violet Ann Adkins, two of Horace’s daughters, visiting the offices of London’s premier trial lawyers, Witherspoon, Lewes, Grambling, and Witherspoon. Vera Adkins had gone there to instigate a defamation case, but her sister Violet arrived and talked her out of it.

Jones has had a meeting with his Superintendant and a man from the State Security Services who were very interested in finding out why this visit took place, but have told the Inspector that he will be disowned if his investigation results in adverse public opinion. The State Security man has also suggested that he does not believe the book is the cause of the defamation case.

Now read on...

At the door to the station, Inspector Jones paused and looked at his reflection in the glass. He shook his head slightly. His forefinger went to his top lip and straightened the hair in his ginger moustache. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and went inside.

The desk sergeant greeted him, but said nothing about his outfit. Neither did the two constables he passed on the stairs.

As usual, Jones was the first to arrive in the office. As he entered, two miniature pigs that had been cavorting in the middle of the room gave a squeal and ran back to their nest behind the filing cabinets.

Jones walked over to his desk. The two miniature pigs cautiously came out of their hiding place as Jones hung his flying jacket over the back of his chair and sat down. Jones watched them as they sprawled out in a puddle of early morning sunshine in the middle of the room.  Jones took a deep breath, scrunched his eyes closed and clenched his fists and concentrated hard.

When he opened his eyes, they were still there. Jones sighed, shrugged and turned his attention to his in-basket.

The pile of pastel files was higher and there were four buff folders at the bottom.

Four of the pastel folders related to missing generators. Two were reporting Macramé activities on the underground. One contained a long and unnecessarily detailed complaint about a pornographic garden gnome installation that had appeared outside a Women’s Institute. One detailed an attack on a blind man by a gang of youths. The last two were complaints of vandalism lodged by delicatessen owners.

Jones turned his attention to the four buff folders all of which were stamped ‘Low Priority’. All four were missing person reports. Jones idly typed the first name into the computer and sat up when it showed that the man had a long list of convictions for petty crime. He tried the other three and got the same result.

Gathering up the buff folders, he went to the briefing room and added the pictures of the four missing petty criminals to the white board.

The briefing itself didn’t go well. Nobody reported any progress and the inclusion of the four missing persons on the board had sparked a rather heated argument between Jones and his detectives.

Afterwards, Jones stomped back to his desk and sat sullenly as the detectives drifted off on their various assignments. A uniformed constable entered and approached Jones nervously. Jones glared at him.

“Yes?” Jones snapped causing the constable to take half a step backwards.

“There’s a lady in reception to see you, sir.” The constable mumbled. “A Joanne Schooner. She’s waiting in Interview Room Two.”

Jones stared blankly at the constable before realising that she was Archie McRamie’s agent. Grabbing a pad and retrieving his folder from the top drawer, he followed the constable downstairs.

Joanne Schooner could be aptly described as a striking woman. Standing a little over six foot tall in her diamante studded pixie boots and with shoulders to cause envy in a miner, she stood out from a crowd. She wore a shapeless, ankle length, tomato red dress that could double as an emergency shelter and on top of a shock of bottle blonde hair, a small, purple pill-box hat decorated with garishly coloured plastic squid. When Inspector Jones entered the room, she ceased examining the pictures from past Light Entertainment Championships that adorned the walls and glided over to greet him.

Jones offered his hand, but, choosing to ignore it, she hugged him tightly and engaged in an expansive display of air kissing.

“Inspector, darling!” she gushed as she released Jones from her grip. “How lovely to meet you at last. Do you have any news on poor Archie?”

“I’m afraid not.” Jones replied, gesturing towards one of two large wingback chairs. “Please take a seat, Miss Schooner.”

“Oh, please call me Jo.” Jo purred as she stroked Jones’s arm.

“OK, Jo.” Jones sat down. “Have you had any contact with Archie or any ransom demand?”

“Nothing at all.” Jo’s arms flayed as she spoke. “Totally typical of Archie. That man can find an adventure and publicity in a tea crate!”

“Yes, so I’ve heard.” Jones gave a weak smile. “This isn’t a publicity stunt is it?”

“I wouldn’t have thought so.” Jo gave a little laugh. “There’s no book to sell at the moment. Archie is the master publicist, Inspector. He would never waste time on stunts without a book to plug.”

Jones nodded and doodled on his pad. “The ideal author for an agent to have a client.”

“In all but a teensy respect, Inspector.” Jo laughed again. “He can’t write for toffee!”

“What?” Jones looked up suddenly. “I’ve just read ‘The Cat Crowed at a Little After Two-thirty’. I thought it was excellently written.”

“Oh it is, Inspector”. The agent nodded. “But it wasn’t written by Archie McRamie.”