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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The following morning Adelaide Hills was walking along the path between Doggett’s Field and the river when her retriever, Bingo, started barking madly. He was always energetic on his morning walk but today he did seem particularly fascinated with some footprints in the mud. She pulled Bingo away and they carried on towards the Baker-Clements’ mansion with Bingo looking back at all times.
“Come on, Bingo,” she shouted, “any more of this prancing in the mud and I’ll have to hose you down when we get home.”
Bingo ran off into the bushes near the Baker-Clements’ garden; a pheasant flew away towards the river. Mrs Hills then saw Carly Waferr heading towards her carrying the mushroom basket that accompanied her on morning walks during the week.
“Good morning, Carly, found a good crop this morning, have you?”
“I has,” said Carly, putting an arm across the top of the basket, “and you can’t have any. Unless you come for lunch of course,” she added smilingly.
“Oh thank you, Carly, I’d love to, as long as they’re not poisonous of course.”
“Be no poisonous mushrooms in them woods,” said Carly, “well not poisonous to me at least, but I’m probably immune now. I ate a couple this morn.” She moved her head around in an anti-clockwise direction for five seconds before shaking her head vigourously.
“Are you sure – you seem dizzy?”
“That’s just the hangover from the rhubarb and dandelion wine last night; Emma left for Edinburgh late so we shared a nightcap afore she went.”
“What’s she studying again?”
“Medicine – oh – look what your dog’s found – a shoe.”
“Bingo, you naughty dog, put that down immediately.”
“How come dogs never find pairs of shoes; just one at a time? My shoes need throwing away, so I s’pose I should head to the animal shelter and borrow a couple of their retrievers and let ‘em loose; hopefully they’d bring back a matching pair.”
Julian Worker Fiction Writing 