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.
You have some suspects already, Colin? That was quick work.” Dr. Crabtree readjusted his glasses with some surprise.
“Well, I suppose I shouldn’t call them suspects yet, as I haven’t even met them, but I was referring to the people who live at the Hall near Manton Rempville. Adelaide Hills saw some people behaving suspiciously when she discovered the body and they must have all come from the Hall.”
“Try not to bring class politics into the conversation, Colin, especially when there’s a case to be solved.”
“Right, wait until afterwards, you mean?”
“Something like that, yes, and don’t forget that Sir Michael Johnson, who owns Manton Rempville Hall, is a personal friend of the Chief Constable, and any complaints will go straight to that level.”
“Thank you for the warning, Dr. Crabtree, I will bear what you say in mind, but I do have to find a murderer after all and that’s the main aim of my investigation. Now, do you have a nice picture of the sword that I can show to the people at the Hall, preferably one that doesn’t show it sticking into Mr. Edward Pritchard? That would be quite tasteless, wouldn’t it, Sergeant?”
“It would indeed, sir, because we do need those people to be able to easily identify the sword and not have their recall impaired by seeing a dead body.”
“We have a nice picture here, Colin, which people will enjoy looking at.”
“Thanks, Dr. Crabtree, my compliments to the photographer.”
With that, Knowles and Barnes left the lab and headed over to Manton Rempville Hall in Barnes’ sleek white sports car, which Knowles thought would impress the upper-class individuals they were about to meet.
Chapter 2 – Saturday, 11:30a.m.
Barnes drove down the carefully manicured driveway of Manton Rempville Hall, while Knowles stared at the yew hedges, which had been sheared into interesting shapes that he couldn’t quite recognise. After they’d parked, Knowles walked over to one of the hedges and pointed.
“What do you think they’re supposed to be, Barnesy, these shapes?”
Barnes looked at Knowles, who was moving his head around to try and get the right angle for a correct identification of the topiary.
“Well, Inspector, isn’t that one a mouse and this one here a hedgehog?”
“It could be a hedgehog, I suppose, but I thought it might be a crouching lion – you see there’s the mane and that’s definitely a tail…”
“Excuse me, this is private property,” said a very posh female voice, “if you don’t leave I will call the police.”
“Well, there’s no need, because we are already here, madam,” said Knowles, brandishing his identification card in the lady’s face. “I am Detective Inspector Colin Knowles and this is Detective Sergeant Rod Barnes. We are here to ask you and your family about the death that occurred in the grounds of the monastery earlier today.”