The Last To See Him – The Murder Mystery Continues

I started writing a murder mystery some time ago, this is the next instalment.

If you want to read this story from the beginning click on this link:

The Last To See Him

It was quite early in the morning when the telephone rang. Alice had only just brought in the breakfast tray consisting of a soft-boiled egg, toast, some marmalade and the compulsory cup of strong tea.

Placing the tray down on the bed next to Lady Patterson, Alice went and answered the phone.

It wasn’t every day that Audrey Patterson took breakfast in bed. In fact, she would usually have been up, washed and dressed by now, but she had slept badly and her head was being rather a pain. Her mind kept going over and over the events that had taken place. The murders of her friend, Claudia Halifax and her Maid, Elsie, had affected her badly. She had sworn to catch their killers, or it may well be that the killer of Claudia and of Elsie were one and the same.

Continue reading The Last To See Him – The Murder Mystery Continues

Do you remember? – The Snifty Sleuth challenge?

A while ago I took part in a collaboration with the great Rory of the blog A Guy Called Bloke. It was a murder mystery series where people could guess who the victim was, who the murderer was and how they did it. There was also a prize!

Well, for those of you who remember, or those that are intrigued, click on the link below to see Rory’s post.

A Murder Mystery – Epilogue


Last year I tried my hand at writing an Agatha Christie-style murder mystery. The main character was Lady Audrey Patterson, who was my ‘Miss Marple’. You can read the start of this particular story here:

When I wrote the ending (linked below) I always intended to write an epilogue to tie up loose ends. This is the Epilogue.


Her nephew lay on the cold kitchen floor completely knocked unconscious. Mrs Buscombe, the cook still held the large frying pan in her hand and a look of pure acrimony on her face.

“He was the one that Killed my Elsie! I knew it as soon as he tried to run through here.”

Four tall policemen came into the kitchen followed by her guests still looking confused.

As the police carried her nephew’s unconscious body away, Lord Halifax spoke.

“I Still don’t understand why he killed Claudia? Were they lovers?”

“No, Claudia liked to flirt with the young men, but they didn’t really mean anything to her. I think his motives were more financial than sexual. Charles, you see, liked to borrow money, I think she indulged him, just like I did because he was young and handsome and full of life. I think she decided to stop giving him money, maybe she threatened to tell you about it. That’s what caused him to act, I think.”

“Oh, I see, all her loveliness and vivaciousness snuffed out for mere cash.”

Lady Patterson shook her head, to someone as wealthy as Lord Halifax, he could never understand the desperate lengths some people would go to acquire more money. Unfortunately, her nephew was one of those people to whom morals were less important than the meeting of his own desires.

Continue reading A Murder Mystery – Epilogue

A Foolish Murder Mystery – A Poem written for the Genre Challenge.


This poem was written for the Haunted Wordsmith’s Genre Challenge.

Todays Genre is: Locked Room — a mystery in which the crime is apparently committed under impossible circumstances (but eventually elicits a rational explanation).

I have also included the following Word Prompts:

Today’s prompt: gizmo, champion, parrot

FOWC with Fandango — Fool

Which was made easier because three chose the same word: FOOL.


A Foolish Murder Mystery


The room was locked

That was for sure,

and so, I charged

and broke down the door.

The body lay

Against the fender,

The wound was bloody,

Red and tender.

Who could have killed

This dear old man?

He was all alone

And so, I began

To search for clues

To find the truth,

I became a champion,

I became the sleuth.

I searched around

Both high and low

And then I found

A strange gizmo.

I picked it up

Then heard a squawk

I saw a Parrot

That began to talk.

“Who’s a fool? You’re a fool!

It clearly said

Then I saw the blood

From the old man’s head.

My fingerprints

Were now upon

The object that was

The murder weapon.

I realised late

Why the Parrot exclaimed.

I was a fool

And I’d been framed.

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 01/April/2019

scarlet macaw
Photo by Tim Mossholder on

Once upon a Crime…. a Challenge from Rory, A Guy Called Bloke.


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.

The End.


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:

Once Upon A Blog Crime ……..

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.







Everything Stops for Tea – Murder Mystery Grand Finale

I started writing a murder mystery some time ago, This is the final chapter.

If you’d like to read this story from the beginning, click on this link:

Everything Stops for Tea

She had only taken one sip of the tea when the doorbell rang yet again. It was an impudent ring and it didn’t surprise her at all when Alice opened the door and her great-nephew bounded in.

“Afternoon Auntie, I got your note” Charles beamed at her then looked around at the gathered assembly. “What’s this all about Aunt Audrey? Did you want to make up a four for Bridge? That’s not really my game, more of a Cribbage man myself.”

“Just be quiet Charles and sit over there” Audrey pointed at a vacant chair next to Lord Halifax.

Audrey stood up and cleared her throat.

I have asked you all here to discuss the unfortunate deaths of Elsie Taplow and Claudia Halifax.

Audrey couldn’t complain she hadn’t received due attention. Several pairs of eyes were locked on her.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to do this?” Sir Alfred was clearly taken off guard “We were supposed to be working together.”

Standing at her full height, Audrey’s blue eyes flashed, she had never looked more alive.

“I couldn’t trust you fully. You could have very well been the killer. You came to call on me very early on that morning when poor Elsie’s body was found. You could have just come from killing her. I’ve seen it before, an old policeman, feeling obsolete and no longer useful. They go off the rails a bit. They want to make themselves important again, make themselves relevant. So why not create a murder to make them more relevant?”

Sir Alfred looked quite pale as he sat there looking up at Audrey.

Continue reading Everything Stops for Tea – Murder Mystery Grand Finale

The Guests Arrive for Tea – A Murder Mystery Continues

I started writing a murder mystery some time ago, we are almost at the end now.

If you’d like to read this story from the beginning, click on this link:


The Guests arrive for Tea

Having refreshed herself with a cup of tea and one of Mrs Buscombe’s excellent Egg mayonnaise sandwiches, Audrey decided to change her clothes. She had been roused out of bed early that morning by a telephone call from Sir Alfred Thorpe. It had been to see the dead body of a poor young man, Christopher Copeland, who had apparently committed suicide, having also confessed to murder.

That could well have been the end of the whole investigation. Although it did not satisfy her. Not in the slightest. It may well have provided an explanation for Claudia Halifax’s murder, but it still did not explain the death of her own Maid, Elsie. Elsie had been a nice girl, a trifle naïve and it appeared she was a bit swayed by gifts and trinkets, but that wasn’t a bad thing. She was sure that the suicide and confession of that poor young man had been part of a wicked and insidious ploy to shift the focus away from the real culprit.

She changed into a wrap-around dress in a pale lavender colour and having rearranged her hair she went back downstairs to await her guests. She was just at the bottom of the stairs when the doorbell rang. She checked her watch, it was just past three-thirty, far too early for the guests she’d invited for afternoon tea. As she was crossing the hall, she answered the door herself.

Standing there, in his civilian clothes of dark grey tweed, was Constable Jones.

“May I have a word with you, Lady Patterson?” He asked politely but with a distinct tone of anxiety about it.

“Yes, of course, Constable, come this way.” She led him into the drawing-room and sat down in her sofa and pointed him towards a chair.

“Thank you. I’m not on duty, it’s just Caradoc Jones. I wanted to make a confession to you, if you don’t mind.”

“You wish to make a confession? Are you going to tell me what you were doing on the Thursday night when Elsie was murdered?”

Caradoc Jones’ face went bright red “Erm, yes, yes I was. How did you know?”

“Because, Mr Jones, I went to the Cinema on Thursday evening myself and saw, not ‘Angel over Islington’ which didn’t start showing until the following weekend, but Dial M for Murder. I knew then that you lied to me. What were you doing? Had you been following Elsie?”

“Not then. I admit I had been following Elsie, after she chucked me over. I wanted to know what she was doing, who she was seeing, but gradually, I began to realise that I didn’t care anymore. That Thursday I was in the company of Mavis Pruitt. She’s the Maid at number 33. We’re engaged to be married now.”

“That all seems rather sudden Mr Jones. Elsie’s only been dead two weeks.”

“Yes, well I’ve always been quite friendly with Mavis, even before Elsie come on the scene. Elsie, she was a fair girl, very pretty and at first she seemed really keen on me, so Mavis just faded into the background, you see?”

“Yes, I see and after Elsie chucked you she suddenly came back into the foreground again, is that it?”

“Well, yes, not right away. At first, I was cut up about it, I admit it, I used to follow her around. I saw the odd glimpse of the person she’d chucked me for. Then I got over it. Mavis made me realise she was the one for me all along.”

Audrey wasn’t altogether interested in Constable Jones’ love life, something he’d said just caught her attention.

“You say you managed to catch a glimpse of the man Elsie was with? Why didn’t you tell Sir Alfred that? What was the man like? Was he tall and blond?”

“I only caught a brief glimpse of him, He was a toff, fancy clothes. He wasn’t tall, he was stocky. I didn’t see his hair, he had a top hat on.”

“Was he Old, or Young?”

“It was hard to say, I only saw him from a distance and from behind. He did have an unusual way of walking though, sort of hunched like.”

“Do you think you’d recognise him if you saw him again?”

“Well, I might. Why, what did you have in mind?”

“I am having a gathering in a short while. A few people will be arriving and I want you to sit in the morning room, which over looks the street and observe my guests as they arrive, then come and tell me if any of them could have been the man you saw in the park with Elsie.”

“Well, I suppose, if you think it may help.”

“It will make amends for not coming forward with this information sooner. I will forget all about it, if you help me.”

She put her plan into action and placed Constable Jones in the morning room from where he should be able to see everyone arrive.

Audrey had just sat back down in the morning room when the doorbell rang again.

Alice announced Sir Alfred who followed her in, still looking quite sheepish.

“Alf, if you would be so kind as to sit here next to me. You’re the first to arrive.”

Sir Alfred manoeuvred across the room with his cane. He was smartly dressed, with his dark grey suit. She hadn’t really noticed much until now, but he had a distinctive walk. He was slightly hunched over and walked with a rolling gait, possibly caused by arthritic trouble, but it looked almost like the walk of someone who’d spent their life at sea and had to adjust to the movement of a ship. That wasn’t the case of course. Sir Alfred had spent his life working in police and achieved the rank of Chief Commissioner of the Metropolitan police.

Sir Alfred lowered himself onto the sofa next to her with an audible gasp.

At exactly Four thirty the doorbell rang and Alice announced the arrival of Lord Halifax. He wore a very formal black suit and had a dour expression on his face.

“Now, Lady Patterson, I would be grateful if you could explain why you have invited me. You mentioned having acquired something?”

“Oh, please don’t let’s be in too much of a hurry. We can at least be civil. I have ordered some tea and there is one more person left to arrive. Please take a seat.”

Audrey indicated a chair by the window, which Lord Halifax lowered himself into. He was older than her, about the same age as Sir Alfred, but he seemed more agile for his age. He sat bolt upright in the chair.

Alice brought in the sandwiches and began serving the tea. There was no point in waiting any longer.

Nearly the End


Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 28/August/2018



A Factor in Being Catholic – The Murder Mystery Continues.


I started writing a murder mystery some time ago, we are almost at the end now.

I wish to apologise to readers. I expected this to be the last part, but I find that it is longer than I realised. That’s what comes of writing a story ‘on the hoof’ so to speak, rather than having it all planned out. I hope you will forgive me that there is a little more to come. I will endeavour to have it finished as soon as possible.

If you’d like to read this story from the beginning, click on this link:


A Factor in being Catholic

At Audrey’s request to see Lord Halifax, the butler took a deep breath. It seemed to say that he’d never heard such an audacious request before. She was trying to remember the butler’s name. She had after all, dined there on rare occasions. She had been very good friends with Claudia Halifax but her husband had always been an austere man who didn’t like company much. The name came back to her, it was Burroughs.

“He is at home, isn’t he Burroughs?” She asked, hoping that using his name might make him a little more helpful.

“Yes, he is Madam, if you would wait in the hall, I will enquire if he is receiving visitors.”

Continue reading A Factor in Being Catholic – The Murder Mystery Continues.

In Strident Tones – The Murder Mystery Continues

I started writing a murder mystery some time ago, we are almost at the end now. This is the penultimate instalment before the final reveal (and possibly an epilogue). I know I said that last time, but this time I mean it. 🙂

If you want to read this story from the beginning click on this link:


In Strident Tones

Audrey Patterson walked out of the Scotland Yard building, headquarters of the Metropolitan Police, and headed in the general direction of Whitehall. She could see the clocktower, commonly known as Big Ben, in the distance and the spires of the Palace of Westminster. Despite the fact she had lived in London for most of her life the sight of the Houses of Parliament always took her breath away slightly.

She was a swift walker; her Mother had always told her off for taking large strides. “A Lady always takes small steps. You walk like a man, Audrey” Her mother would chastise her in strident tones. Well she was impatient to get to her destination.

Continue reading In Strident Tones – The Murder Mystery Continues

With Some Bravado – The Murder Mystery Continues

I started writing a murder mystery some time ago, we are almost at the end now. This is the penultimate instalment before the final reveal (and possibly an epilogue).

If you want to read this story from the beginning click on this link:

With Some Bravado

Audrey Patterson had just made a statement concerning the death of Christopher Copeland who was found dead of a suspected suicide.

It was strange because it was the very same room in which, twenty years or so before, she had made a statement. That had been when a man mysteriously choked to death at a dinner party to which she’d been invited. That young man had been a notable scientist, or he’d appeared to be. Things had not been at all what they seemed. It was just the case this time as well. Then it had been Inspector Thorpe who had been in charge of that case. Now retired, Sir Alfred Thorpe sat in a chair by the door and behind the desk was the man in charge of this case, Inspector Coulson. He was a youngish man, she guessed in his late Thirties and he had a fluffy moustache and beard the colour of spun gold.

Continue reading With Some Bravado – The Murder Mystery Continues