Excerpt from the book called The Frisby Waterless Murders
“Thank you for telling me about the murder, Inspector Knowles, “ said Maudie Trimble, “I will phone Mavis for more information – I would guess that Harold has solved it already, the murder that is, he’s good at crosswords.”
“Is he now,” replied Knowles, “well I am not so surprised as he appeared incredibly keen to get on with things and investigate whodunit.”
“He’s been looking forward to this for weeks,” said Maudie, shaking her head, “and I think it’s sad a grown man should feel that way about a murder/mystery, don’t you?”
“It is not for me to pass judgement on other people, Maudie, I just have to establish certain facts.”
“I see, well I admire your diplomacy,” said Maudie Trimble, “I will be seeing you again I expect.” With that she closed the door gently behind her.
Knowles wrote down a few items in his notebook when he returned to his Land Rover and then wondered how Barnesy and co were getting on with Mrs Harkness in her house in Little Flixton. Hopefully, they were getting some useful, clear information from her. He then thought about why Mr Trimble would have been looking forward for weeks to solving a murder/mystery – ‘I wonder why he would want to show off his murder-solving skills to everyone unless he wanted to make a point to someone about his ability to solve problems, to sort things out, to explain how something had happened’ said Knowles to himself, “I wonder if he was involved in The Riverbank incident as regards the finances of the fishing club?” Knowles wrote down a reminder to ask Smythe about her investigations into what had happened at the Fishing Club in Frisby Waterless; he resolved to find out who else on that trip was a member of the fishing club; it might have a bearing on the case.
Knowles didn’t feel like going into the station just yet, so he decided to take a detour to the the bridge over the rail track underneath which the train had stopped the previous day. He wanted to see if there were any tyre tracks that stood out. Carl said he’d seen a family car, but Knowles doubted that this vehicle would have been the one used to dump the pram.
He started the Land Rover and chugged down the Flixton Road ignoring the crows who seemed to be playing dare, trying to find out which bird flapped away at the last second before the vehicle ran them over. One particular bird didn’t fly it just hopped out of the way and gave him a contemptuous look worthy of his cat, Gemma.
Two lefts and a right brought Knowles on to Scoresby Road and after a mile of travelling between a high hedge on the left and a moss-stained wall on the right, he arrived at the bridge. Two police search vehicles were parked neatly on the verge. Sergeant Roberts and his team were searching for the detritus of a murder and were spread out over a wide area. Knowles saw someone on a four-wheeled contraption heading towards the bridge. The wheels fitted on to the tracks and the constable moved along by moving a handle up and down. He was waving a plastic bag at Sergeant Roberts.
Knowles decided to move down to the tracks to see what was going on; the path was well trodden and Knowles arrived just as the person was showing Roberts his find.
Julian Worker Fiction Writing 