It was a cold and frosty morning when the telephone rang on Inspector Kristian’s desk.
He was just in the middle of dunking his chocolate hobnob in his tea, it was the crucial third dunk, the one where he would either place the gooey mess into his mouth, or the whole thing would disintegrate into the cup. Quickly he shoved the soggy biscuit into his mouth then reached for the phone.
“Yes?” He said, or would have had his mouth not been full of biscuit.
The person at the other end knew his little foibles and understood him anyway.
“It’s Officer Rory speaking Sir. There’s been a Murder. Can you come to the Lighthouse at Paula’s Point straight away?”
“Typical” Muttered the Inspector to himself “I was just looking forward to putting my feet up and reading another Agatha Christie novel.”
He picked up his large, leather Gladstone bag, filled with all the tricks of his trade and ran out of the door. The quicker he got this done, the quicker he could have afternoon tea.
On Arrival, Officer Rory greeted him at the entrance to the old Lighthouse.
“So, Officer, what do we have here then?”
“Well, Sir, we have the body of a Lady. She was found slumped in a large leather armchair. It was the Lighthouse keepers daughter. She was tending the lighthouse for her Mother, who is away on vacation. Someone called the police when the lights all went out.”
As he entered the building, the Inspector couldn’t help feeling a sense of Deja vu. He had done this all before.
The main room was decorated with flock wallpaper, a flowery patterned carpet and chintzy armchairs. In a leather armchair, by an empty fireplace, slumped the body of the murder victim. Next to her was a small table, on which there was a diary. There was also an old fashioned Tiffany lamp with a shade covered in multicoloured glass in the design of a dragonfly. On the floor was a crushed page from the diary.
At first, there did not appear to be any injuries on the body. No blood, no wounds of any kind. The inspector could smell something, though. Something that reminded him of bonfire night.
Suddenly it came to him and he jumped up exclaiming “Sparklers!”
Officer Rory in a calm and deadpan manner asked: “What was that, Sir?”
“Sparklers, my dear fellow. That is what I can smell. This lady has been electrocuted!”
As they took the body away, the Inspector picked up the piece of paper from the floor.
The date was that of the night before. On it was scrawled “We need to maintain secrecy at all times. No one need know. Dinner is served at 8pm”
The Diary itself gave no clues it had been a gift to the victim, in it was an inscription.
“Dear Sadje, You have a dream. Keep it Alive. Lots of Love. M.”
The Inspector sat down in one of the other chairs, with swirls of paisley and a gold coloured antimacassar, and had a think.
When he entered the building something had plucked at his brain, but what?
Officer Rory came in with a young lady wearing overalls and carrying a large bag.
“This is the electrician, Sir. She has come to fix the electrics so we can switch the light back on. Don’t want any ships crashing on the rocks, It’s dangerous waters around Paula’s Point. Have you finished sir?”
Inspector Kristian stood up. He recognised this young woman. She did several jobs around the town. He had last seen her singing her heart out in the local night club. He also recognised her perfume.
“Officer Rory, arrest that woman. She is the murderer!”
The woman tensed and dropped her bag. It fell to the floor with a loud bang. Several heavy tools fell out and rolled across the floor. She tried to run, but another officer stood by the door. She turned and exclaimed to the Inspector “But how did you know?”
“I recognised your perfume, my dear. It’s Poison, isn’t it? I smelt it that night when you sang at the karaoke bar and I smelt it again when I entered here. I knew you have done many jobs, but I didn’t know you were also an electrician. It would have taken an electrician to carefully remove the plug, electrocute the victim with the bare wires, then put the plug back on. You were clever, my dear, but you couldn’t fool Inspector Kristian.”
“But Sir, What was the Motive?” Officer Rory asked.
“I believe it was Blackmail. She was going to talk wasn’t she?” The Inspector replied, turning to Crushed Caramel, the electrician.
“Yes, I told her a secret about my friend, Tao, and she said she would talk if I didn’t give her £1000. I don’t have that kind of money. I knew that I could use the old Tiffany lamp to electrocute her. I thought I could get away with it, but you are too clever for me.”
With the Crime Solved, Inspector Kristian returned to the office and while typing up his report enjoyed an enormous scone smothered in cream and jam.
So, Hopefully, I haven’t missed anything or anyone. This story is a bit of light-hearted fun, written in response to this challenge set by A Guy Called Bloke, see the post here:
Who is the victim?
Who is the murderer?
Who is the location?
Who is the murder weapon?
Who is the motive?
I hope no one was offended by this story.