This excerpt is from the book entitled The Goat Parva 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.
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“That sounds like a great idea because they both live on Sharrock Lane and we could go to the Badger afterwards for a pint and compare notes.”
“It’s a date, Barnesy, right which way to Madeley Waterless from here?”
“South along Leicester Road and then first left after the traffic lights. That was something I didn’t understand about Claude’s statement – he said that Carol Herald was running towards Madeley Waterless – why would she be running away from her home rather than towards it?”
“She works at the animal shelter there I believe, so perhaps she was heading towards her place of work – perhaps she runs to work? It might well rule her out of our considerations for the person who interferes with the crime scenes after Mrs Hills has seen the bodies. Turning up with a shower curtain at work is quite a unique thing to do, so we should ask them when we go there, perhaps tomorrow.”
“All of a sudden we have a lot of leads and questions and fewer and fewer answers.”
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Madeley Waterless was a tiny place of one street and Davis’ home was the first house on the right as they came through the village from Goat Parva. The forensic team had already paid a visit so the village constable was able to let Knowles and Barnes in to the property.
“Right, let’s see what the boys in white have left for us,” said Knowles,” and just for a change I’ll go upstairs – I need the exercise as part of my new dietary regime.”
Barnes looked around the downstairs, but got the impression quite quickly that something was missing, that Davis had almost expected this situation to happen and had covered his tracks accordingly. His computer had a password that didn’t yield to straightforward guesses and Barnes wondered why. Upstairs he heard Knowles moving around with his usual lack of guile. Although Davis was a keen photographer there were no images scattered around the rooms, which might be an indication of the types of photographs taken of course. Barnes went to the bottom of the stairs and yelled:
“Found anything sir?”
“Not a thing, not one thing out of the ordinary,” replied Knowles with a huge hint of exasperation.
Julian Worker Fiction Writing 