This excerpt is from the book entitled The Frisby Waterless Murders, an English Murrder Mystery book set in the countryside, starring two policemen who have been working together for a few years and get along really well. There’s lots of dialogue and banter with some humour thrown in amongst the murders and suspects.


“Right and there were 25 of them in the party.” Knowles looked around at the trees and hedgerows speeding by and hoped Barnes didn’t brake too hard on the slippery road, covered with the first brown leaves of autumn. This road was the opposite of a roman road as there were 90 degree bends every few hundred yards, indicating the boundaries of the farmer’s fields. The Romans clearly didn’t bother to find out who owned the land when building their highways. Or was everything in common ownership at that time?

“Are we there yet? Can’t this thing go any faster Sergeant?” Knowles hoped the irony wouldn’t be lost on Barnes.

“It can, sir, Morgan’s can go up to 170mph, but this one has an electronically controlled top speed of 148mph, so we’re only halfway there at the moment.” Barnes smiled as he knew Knowles’s Land Rover had a top speed only slightly higher than the rate they were currently travelling at.   

“So – let me get this straight,” said Knowles, realising that Barnes was enjoying himself breaking the speed limit on police business, “we’re going to investigate a situation where the wrong person has ended up dead and we have to work out who did it?”

“That’s correct, Inspector, and we don’t have to pay for the privilege either, so we are going to encounter some resistance in this situation. There will be around a dozen amateur sleuths who will all have their own suspects and we will have to rise above their views…”

“…because we are professional sleuths…”

“yes, and we will have to get it right, first time, and hope they are all wrong.”

“This could get a bit tricky, diplomatically,” said Knowles furrowing his brow, “so I might struggle to reign myself in.” He tried to remember the counsellor’s words of advice – count to ten – or was it a hundred – before even formulating your response. Don’t show your impatience and remember to smile at all times.

The Morgan hurtled along the increasingly wet road towards the “Welcome to Little Flixton – Please drive carefully” sign. The 30 sign was a blur as Barnes headed towards the station terminus where Little Toby was waiting in a siding so as to keep his guilty secret away from prying eyes.

“Who organised this murder/mystery, Sergeant Barnes?”

“It was the Frisby Waterless and District Round Table, sir, raising funds to buy some more trees for the National Forest.”