The Frisby Waterless Murders – 45

Excerpt from the book called The Frisby Waterless Murders

No one I can think of.”


“Well someone did, because they lobbed a piece of contaminated meat into your garden, which is, how shall I phrase this, uncommon behaviour around hereabouts.”


“If I think of anyone I will let you know.”


“Thank you, now do you anyone in the Round Table at Flixton or any of the actors at the Little Flixton Players, as I believe they are called.”


Maudie Trimble shivered slightly as a gust of wind blew around her house and caused the leaves to skitter around the yard.


“Well Mavis, my younger sister, is married to Harold Trimble, who is one of the leading lights of the Round Table.”


“Did you say lights or knights?”


“Lights, definitely lights, although there are one or two dragons in their midst, so perhaps knights would be more useful,” replied Maudie, almost smiling for the first time.


“Indeed that’s true, who would those dragons be?”


“Well Mrs Harkness for one, just because her husband is a Major doesn’t give her the right to treat people with such contempt.”


“I think in order to be accurate, you should say ‘was’ a Major,” suggested Knowles.


“He’s been promoted? I thought he was retired?”


“No Maudie, he was murdered yesterday, on the train, and he was sitting in your seat when it happened, which is why I was so interested in your doggy.”


“You don’t think they were after me, do you?”

“I don’t think they were – I don’t believe it is a case of mistaken identity – I wonder why your sister didn’t phone you to tell you the news. Does she normally leave you in the dark over gossip?”


“Yes, more or less, I only found out about the murder/mystery because Deirdre mentioned it to me when she was here playing with Alma.”


“Families are strange,” said Knowles, “I don’t understand them sometimes.”


“It’s nice to have a niece, who comes to visit, but it’s always good to hand her back when the day is done,” mused Maudie.


“Right,” said Knowles, “I should probably be going, anyway, as I will need to speak about Alma’s condition with the vet in Scoresby. I will find the number.”

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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