The Goat Parva Murders – 19

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.


“Who was she?”


“I have no idea, inspector. I wouldn’t recognise her if I saw her again.”


“Well, it was Shapiro in the rhodos, Danica, and someone smacked him over the head with a stone or an iron bar. Did you hear anything?”


“Not a thing, the TV was on and I was post…well happy anyway, so I heard no one being mugged.”


“He was actually killed, Danica.”


“That’s sad for his family, but not for the animals he mistreated. Good riddance I say.”


“Has anyone else watched you to your knowledge?”


“I think your PC Davis might have done; he investigated when I complained a couple of years ago that I was being watched, but he didn’t find anything. He just sat on the couch with an erection, like you Sergeant, and stared at me. I think he might have crept around the garden looking for stalkers but ultimately didn’t find anything. In the end, I just got on with my life and didn’t worry.”


“You think he might have been out there?”


“I shouldn’t wonder, but I don’t take a roll call although I do receive a large number of Valentine’s cards.”


“Well I think we’ve asked you enough questions for one day, Danica” said Knowles, “we’ll just take a look in the rhodo over there for any evidence of a golf seat.”


“See you soon Sergeant Barnes,” said Danica, licking her lips in a provocative way as she closed the door behind them.


“Are you OK, Barnesy, you look shell-shocked.”


“That’s a real woman, whooo, those hips, I am aching.”


“Tell you what,” said Knowles, “I’ll climb over this fence, but you…you can pole-vault over – look at you.”


They hunted around in the rhododendrons and eventually found what they were looking for – a three-inch deep round hole made by a large man sitting on a golf seat.


“So that’s something else that’s missing – the jacket and now the seat. The murderer must have taken that seat at the time of the murder unless somebody else found the body before the dog and just thieved it.”


“That’s the sort of thing a cat would do, sir.” Barnes knew that Knowles wouldn’t ignore this.


“A cat-like personality yes – unless someone saw the murder and stole it after the murderer left. Anyway, this is getting too complicated. The last thing we should do today is go and see Clem Shapiro’s place.”

Published by Julian Worker

Julian was born in Leicester, attended school in Yorkshire, and university in Liverpool. He has been to 94 countries and territories and intends to make the 100 when travel is easier. He writes travel books, murder / mysteries and absurd fiction. His sense of humour is distilled from The Marx Brothers, Monty Python, Fawlty Towers, and Midsomer Murders. His latest book is about a Buddhist cat who tries to help his squirrel friend fly further from a children's slide.

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