Goat Parva Murders – 3

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.


“This is a good shoe – Bingo where did you find this?” Mrs Hills gestured towards the bushes and Bingo flew off.

Carly Waferr was trying on the shoe when Bingo returned with the other matching shoe.

“My prayers have been answered, thank you lord,” shouted Carly and grabbed the shoe from the retriever. “They fit, it’s my day today,” she added.

“Who leaves a pair of shoes for a dog to find?” wondered Mrs Hills as Bingo went back to the bushes.

“Ain’t seen any campers,” said Carly admiring the shoes, “and there’s no tents around, ‘cept those of Danica’s admirers at her back door.”

“Oh that awful woman and her loose morals – teasing the men with her low cut frocks.”

Bingo came bounding up with a belt.

“Sorry, Bingo,” said Carly, “I don’t need a belt right now.”

“Where’s he finding all these things,” said Adelaide, “is there a suitcase around?”

“Does you think…” said Carly, “that Danica’s having sex outside with one of her friends and these are his clothes?”

“Alfresco fornication you mean?”

“Alf who,” said Carly, “is he new in Goat Parva?”

Mrs Hills raised her eyebrows and followed Bingo into the bushes.

Carly was trying on the belt when she heard Mrs Hills scream.

Sounds like Danica and this Alf character have been discovered by our Adelaide, thought Carly, I’d better hurry up, I don’t want to miss anything.

As she started towards where the scream had come from Mrs Hills came running towards her.

“He’s dead,” she shrieked, “Clem Shapiro’s dead. I’m calling the police; he was bird-watching by the look of it,” and she headed home following Bingo, who was carrying a glove that he didn’t want to share with anyone.

Carly went to see the body.

“Got your just desserts, Clem,” she said, “someone found out about you and the birds you were watching.” She looked through the rhododendrons and saw the Baker-Clements’ house.

A peep show for perverts more like, she thought and headed back home to cook a mushroom omelette for her Wednesday morning breakfast.

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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