The Frisby Waterless Murders – 62

Excerpt from the book called The Frisby Waterless Murders

“Who are you playing?”


“The Partridge from Rushton Mallory – they are one of the strongest teams in the league, but we beat them earlier in the year at their place and they weren’t best pleased, so will be thirsting for revenge.”


“Will they now, well I hope you keep a lid on things Sergeant Barnes.”


“I’m sure we will, sir, it ’s only a game after all.”


“Well, good luck, Sergeant and see you tomorrow.”


With that Knowles stood up and stretched before leaving the room. He was hoping for an early night as he was visiting the gym in the morning on his way into work. He drove out of the car park and headed for Allerton Avenue where John Davis lived at number 38. It was a street of red-brick houses, which were just about detached from each other allowing people to access the rear of the property via a narrow passageway. The front gardens were neatly kept with a predominance of small, square lawns surrounded by flowering shrubs.


Mr Davis’s house had a small pond instead of a lawn with a stone heron standing to one side. Some rushes and a water-lily added a touch of colour to the browns and greys of the rocks. Knowles rapped on the white front door using a brass knocker, which appeared to be older than the house and had probably been bought at one of the antique shops on the main square in Scoresby.


Knowles recognised the man who opened the door. It was Mr Davis and he was wearing the same pullover as he had on the train. It was a light-red colour that matched the slightly flushed appearance of the owner of the house, though Knowles doubted this was the reason it had been selected.


“Hello Mr Davis. I don’t know if you remember me, but my name is Detective Inspector Knowles from the CID here in Scoresby. I have some questions about the recent incident on the train.” Knowles showed Mr Davis his warrant card for further emphasis.


“Oh yes, that’s right, I do remember you, please come in.”


Knowles followed Mr Davis down the green hallway carpet and into the Lounge, which had a massive stone mantle above the fireplace, which sloped down towards the floor on the right-hand side of the room before finally finishing at the front wall of the house. Knowles wondered whether the mantlepiece and fish pond had been built at the same time.


“So, Inspector, do sit down – how can I help you?” Mr Davis stood by the mantelpiece as if to emphasise the sturdiness of the structure. Knowles chose a green leather chair with a view of the fireplace.


“Mr Davis, we are obviously looking into the death of Major Harkness and in particular we have been finding out whether any of the people on that train either had a background in the military or had relatives who were in the services at the same time as the dear, departed Major.”

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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