This excerpt is from the book entitled The Manton Rempville Murders an English Murder 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.

An English Murder Mystery book set in the countryside.

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Suddenly, Knowles put his finger to his lips and pointed to the door. “There’s someone outside,” he mouthed to Barnes and pointed. Barnes stood up and walked quietly to the doorway – he stood by the frame for about five seconds and then leapt out. Basil Fawcett jumped slightly but managed to maintain his calm demeanour.

“What were you hoping to hear, Basil?” asked Barnes after he’d escorted the young man into the room.

“Well some of us think that Ellis Hardaker must have been the murderer and so I thought I would listen to your post-interview discussion to see whether you did too.”

Knowles looked upset. “You’ve been texting each other about this? Who started it?”

“I am sure it was Timmy Beauregard who sent a message to Cedric – he forwarded it to Toby, who passed it to Henrietta and myself.” Basil adjusted his glasses nervously.

“Why is Timmy Beauregard so keen to implicate Ellis in the murder?”

“I am not sure – perhaps he has designs on Gwendoline?”

“Mmmm – interesting theory, Basil, anyway which pub did you visit last night?”

“The White Lion in Stoney Stafford and then the White Hart in Norton something or other.”

Knowles put two thumbs up and winked at Barnes who shook his head in mock sadness.

“Good choices, especially the second one. How did you get to Norton something or other, Basil?”

“Taxis, Inspector. We got back around 11:30p.m. and I headed to bed here in the coach house – I was a bit tired after travelling up from London.”

“Was anyone else around?”

“There was someone standing outside the study windows I thought, but it might have been one of the statues – I’d had three pints of bitter and a couple of whiskies during the evening.”

“Enough to see a few people perhaps,” chortled Knowles, “which bitter did you have?”

“A pint of Pedigree and a couple of Norfolk Wherrys plus two doubles of Laphroaig.”

“Another good choice, but I prefer Bruichladdich myself.”

“That’s unpeated isn’t it,” said Basil, “I haven’t tried that one yet.”

“There’s plenty of time for you yet,” said Knowles, “and it will be worth the wait. Anyhow, who was with you last night?”

“Henry, or Henrietta I suppose I should say, and Toby, of course, plus we met a couple of his friends, James and George Flavell, at the Hart. They both spent the evening staring at Henrietta of course. I am sure you can appreciate why.” Fawcett spoke this last sentence while looking at Barnes, who reddened slightly.

“So Toby and Henrietta will have the same story as you by the time they come here to be interviewed, will they?”