Effie, Madge and Mabel, Biddie

Please note, during the next trick, my hands never leave my arms and that the small rodents remain in full view of my audience.

.... drum roll....

Voila! By means of magic (or maybe cunning smoke and mirrors) Part 52 of “A Couple of Tenors Short” is unleashed into my quiet corner of the interweb.

 I keep amazing myself by finding quiz questions relating to the part number. The one today verges on the tough, so I better 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...

There were about a dozen Buddhist monks picketing the station when Jones arrived. They had made a conga line and were chanting “We will not be mooo-ved” as they went up the ramp and down the steps. A banner in a language Jones, couldn’t read had been tied to the railings.

Jones drove past, into the car park and went into the station through the back door. He hurried towards the stairs and the safety of his office.

“Glynn! Glynn! Wait up” Sergeant Collins shouted before Jones had made the fourth step.

“Yes?” Jones turned wearily to face the sweating sergeant.

“You’re needed out front. Those foreign monks.” Collins jerked a thumb towards the front door.

“Sorry, not my department. You better get the Super out of his pit.” Jones gave a smile and turned away.

“But they asked for you. Said they wouldn’t go until the chief monk had spoken with you personally.”

Jones swore under his breath, sighed, turned and trudged towards the front door.

The conga line didn’t miss a beat when Jones came out of the door.

Standing with his hands on his hips, Jones observed the scene. An enterprising soul had set up a tea stall on the pavement and was doing a brisk trade with the growing crowd. A small rival conga line had started across the street. A group of youths in boaters and lurid blazers were weaving through pedestrians chanting “Some ones goin’ to move yer”. Closer to the monks the crowd sipped tea from flowery paper cups while laughing and pointing at the monks. A man in a top hat and long purple cape was taking photographs.

When his presence at the top of the steps failed to be noticed, Jones took a deep breath, cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed “STOP!”

The conga line didn’t stop, but one of the monks broke from the centre of the line and climbed up the steps.

“As I informed the sergeant, we will continue our little demonstration until I am able to speak with Inspector Jones.” The monk spoke English like an old-fashioned BBC newsreader.

“I’m Inspector Jones” Jones took a deep breath as he swelled himself up to his full height.

“Hmmm.” The monk took a step back and inspected the inspector. “Are you sure?”

Jones fished into his pocket and fished out his id which he offered to the monk. The monk took it and studied it closely, looking up at Jones’s face and back to the id before returning it to Jones.

“I’m sorry, but you all look alike to me.” The monks face didn’t give any indication if he was attempting irony. “Besides, I was rather expecting somebody with more charisma and presence.”

Clenching a fist, Jones scanned the crowd before returning his gaze to the monk. “Look, if this is about the robbery on your tour bus, I can assure you that it is being investigated, but unfortunately it isn’t my case.”

“No, no Inspector.” The monk waved a dismissive and hand and smiled. “That was an inconvenience, but one that is a mere trifle in the delicate balance of life.”

“No, this is far more serious.” The monk continued. “During our meditations we had a moment of collective enlightenment. It would seem that you have been touched by destiny to save the world and in order to achieve that, you will need this.”

The monk took out a small brass bell from his robe. It was about 3 inches high and attached to a small leather strap. He handed the bell to Jones who cocked his head from side to side as he evaluated it.

“It’s a bell.” Before he could stop himself, Jones stated the obvious. “You believe that I am going to save the world with a tourist trinket?”

“Inspector, that is no ordinary trinket. That is an un-tuned bell.” The monk gave a little bow.

Jones rang the bell. To him it sounded like any other bell. Yet, the two conga lines stopped in their tracks. There were gasps from the crowd. One lady dropped her tea and clasped her hands over her ears.

Jones looked around open mouthed. “So how am I supposed to save the world with this?”

“I have no idea.” The monk shrugged. “To be honest, I’m just glad to get it off my hands. Good day, Inspector.”

With that, the monk turned and walked back to his colleagues. Two monks took down the banner from the railings and then the group walked off down the street. With the main attraction gone, the crowd started to drift away. Very quickly all that was left was the tea seller packing up his stand.

As Jones went to go back inside the station, he noticed a sign on the stand, “Tea – as drunk by Horace Adkins!” Jones swore 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.

With a Texas Tommy Wiggle

Part twenty-three of “A Couple of Tenors Short” arrives after a short break caused by a rather busy week. With my support garments now firmly in place, I am able to pick up the threads and try to knit a ski mask for my gecko. 

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!

The world has gone mad, but Inspector Glynn Jones believes that everyone else is out of step not him. After finding the man from the State Security Services in his kitchen dressed in a green lycra body suit, 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 had no recollection of any marriage, he found himself hitched to Pippa Hucknell, an investigative journalist, in an arrangement he is enjoying. 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, 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.

See, I told you about the need to start from the beginning.

Now read on...

Jo Schooner fanned herself with one hand, her face flushed.

“Are you OK?” Jones asked.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” Jo reached into a fold in her voluminous red dress and withdrew a handkerchief which she dabbed on her brow. “I seemed to lose the plot there for a moment.”

“I’ll get you a cup of tea.” Jones patted her elbow.

Jones got up slowly and went out to the office. A constable was sat at his desk conducting an imaginary orchestra while studying some sheet music gave a start when Jones tapped him on the shoulder and barked out an order for two teas. Jones gave a chuckle as he watched him scurry off towards the canteen.

When Jones returned to the interview room, he caught Jo studying his notepad. Jo’s head snapped round when the inspector entered and hurriedly replaced his notepad. Jones raised his eyebrow and gave her a stare.

There was no apology from the agent. Instead she started to talk about how she first met Archie and started on a stream of anecdotes of his antics on the literary circuit. Jones found himself laughing, which served to encourage Jo to continue.

Jo suddenly stopped mid-anecdote. “Archie is alright, isn’t he?”

Jones gave a cough and straightened himself in his chair. “We’ve got nothing that suggests otherwise.”

“Oh.” Jo examined her hands. “Something has happened to him, Inspector. I know it. He just wouldn’t abandon Elspeth without a word. He would find a way to contact her, let her know he is OK.”

“Look, we will find Archie; you have my word on that.” Jones looked Jo directly in the eyes with as much conviction as he could muster.

“Thank you.” Jo grabbed one of the Inspector’s hands and squeezed it tightly. “That means a lot to me.”

They were interrupted by a constable in full dress uniform entering the room with a tray. The constable set the dray down on the table and poured two cups of tea into flowery bone china cups from an ornamental teapot shaped as a country church. After serving, the constable stood to attention, saluted and then did a short soft shoe shuffle before turning and leaving the room.

Jones shook his head slowly before picking up a plate of biscuits and offering them to Jo Schooner.

While they drank their tea, Jones had Archie’s agent run through the dates and locations of Archie’s various escapades. He carefully noted them all down on the notepad. At first glance none matched up with the dates and locations mentioned in ‘The Cat Crowed at a Little After Two-thirty’.

The interview ended with Jo enveloping Jones in a hug and thanking him. Jones blushed as he rubbed lipstick from his cheek, but promised to keep Jo abreast of any news and progress.

The two of them walked together in silence to the entrance of the station and exchanged a handshake. Jones watched as Jo hailed a luridly decorated llama carriage and climbed in. As the carriage pulled away, narrowly avoiding two boys carrying a large wedding cake on a litter, Jo gave the inspector a wave. Jones instinctively started to return it, realised what he was doing and hurriedly clasped both hands behind his back.

When the carriage was out of sight, Jones went back into the station and started to walk back to his desk.

“Sir, Sir!” the uniformed constable who had promised to review the CCTV footage shouted at Jones as he reached the stairs.

Jones stopped and turned.

“I have found something on the CCTV footage, sir.” The constable pushed out his chest in a way that threatened to make lethal weapons of the shiny buttons on his tunic. “I think you might want to see this.”