Category Archives: detective

Why Adkins Had To Die (extended: because I’ve written more of it)

crime-detective-murder-mystery

Adkins was barely into the first sentence of his novel when he received a stiff blow to the back of his head – he died instantly.
I know because I was that writer.

Howard Richmal Adkins, born 3rd May, 1957, died 3rd May, 2015 – not the best birthday that I’d ever had, but the most memorable from the viewpoint of my now being a ghost.
I think that after due consideration I was held back from the afterlife because there was a serious wrong outstanding that needed me to put it right. The main reason for my requirement being that I was the only one who knew that a serious wrong ‘was’ outstanding.

I had been considering writing my novel for some time now – as a first novel there was little time left to me before my expiry date (how little, even I was surprised at) and so I had set myself the task of sourcing an adventure that could then be written up as a book that took the best-seller lists by storm. As of current count, I have still to sell a copy – due to my unexpected and untimely death.

However, let me stop all this waffling and take you back to the start of my actual ‘real-life’ adventure.

It was on a day in late November back in the year 2012, about eleven-fifteen at night, and I was stranded in deepest, darkest Oxfordshire. The last bus had long gone and I was miles from civilisation.
I had been to one of these ‘raves’ where the music pumps like a jack-hammer into your brain and the lights and smoke dull any clarity in your unfocused mind. There was a lot of drink in evidence and little pills to lift you up – and also some to bring you back down again – both of ‘these’ I avoided, just.

I had been looked upon as an ‘oldie’ by most of the ‘bright-young-things’ there; but, I was accepted without question into the ranks. True, I was grandfather material to a lot of the youngsters, but I was not alone in the ‘wrinkly-brigade.’

My companion on that eventful night was a lady (by ‘our’ standards) who went by the name of Letitia du Worthy (don’t ask) a mid-forties woman from the late-sixties (you do the maths) with a mid to upper class ancestry that made Tottina Toffville from Tottington look like gutter trash (or so she told me).

Lettie (my rave name for her) and I (called by her ‘How?’ Yes, always as a question) had been gyrating our moves on the dance floor amongst the fit young things as though we didn’t care, and as though no-one was looking (though they were – and laughing). We stopped after a seasonable amount of sweat and toil and removed ourselves to the makeshift bar for a light refreshment – which turned out to consist of bottled alcohol, with tart, sugary flavourings that could only be described as… well, tart!

“Getting on a bit!” I called to Lettie above the noise.
“Speak for yourself!” She mouthed back.
“No – the time!” I explained; feeling that she knew that anyway.
“It’s nine-fifty-five!” She mimed exasperation at my lack of staying power. “I’m staying for more – off you go to Beddie-byes!”
I realised that it was much too early to leave; another half-an-hour, perhaps.
And that was when I mistakenly drank from the wrong bottle of tartness (although I didn’t immediately realise) and soon keeled over in the midst of ‘Radalalaboomthang’ or the like.
They pulled me off the floor and propped me up to the side near an air flap (so I was unreliably informed later) so that I could recover. They initially thought that I was having a heart attack (but, that was before I keeled, and was just my antiquated dance moves).

I never saw Lettie again. Nor my wallet and its contents.

When I recovered enough to leave (and after a futile search for Lettie) I left. Finding myself in the aforesaid bleak Oxfordshire countryside at 11:15pm with just my clothing and empty pockets.

Except, that is, for a folded piece of paper that I discovered with a phone number on it – one of those ‘mobile’ ones.

‘How?’ I asked myself. This was quickly replaced by the more interesting ‘Who?’ And if I had been a Douglas Adams’ creation, I would have then asked ‘Where do I go for the best breakfast this side of the Apocalypse?’ But, I wasn’t, and so I didn’t. Shame.

I pushed that number deeply back into my pocket for later; and got on with the job in hand of finding my way home.

I recalled the address where I lived rather well; though how to get there was a little less forthcoming. I decided to keep walking along this road and see where it led (which is the story of my life really). Off I went, dimly thinking that the sun would rise in the East, and I would be able to reach London by Christmas. The fact that I lived in Oxford, and wanted to reach there by breakfast being a later update to my thinking.

Advertisements

#dialogueforaplay – The Play Starts Here!

hash-tag dialogueforaplay

#dialogueforaplay (for Radio Show)
Cast (in order of appearance – smartest first!)
Narr 1
Narr 2
Narr 3
Narr 4
Harold
Laura
Dr 1
Dr Protocol
DC Acey

SFX Murder Mystery Music

Narrator 1: The ‘Toe-in-the-Water Radio Show’ is proud to present… The Lost Camel Theatre Group, who are proudly presenting…

Narrator 2: Act 1 Scene 1 of a 1 act, 1 scene play, cunningly entitled:

Narrator 3: A Murder Is Pronounced ‘Mur-derrr!’

Narrator 4: ‘or’

Narr 1: The Old Biddy in the Library

Narr 4: ‘or’

Narr 2: Death Comes Right at the Very End

Narr 4: Or… (There is a pause) No? (A shorter pause) Anyway, whatever it is called, it all begins, takes place, and ends in the living room of Whom Manor.

Narr 1: Which is ‘grammatically’ correct

Narr 2: if not at all relevant…

Narr 3: or particularly interesting

Narr 4: Act 1, Scene 1: The action starts, as I say, in an English Country House – Whom Manor.

SFX making drinks, with clinks etc.

Harold: We seem to be out of lemons!

Laura: Really?

Harold: Yes! I wanted ‘ice and a slice’ in my drink!

Laura: Oh, Harold! If you really need a lemon I can send out.

Harold: No, Laura- if a man wants something done properly he should just get on and do it.

Laura: Really? Harold…?

Harold: Yes, Laura, what is it, old bean?

Laura: Oh! Nothing, I’ll make you a drink.(aside) It will be your last!

Laura: (hands Harold a drink) Here you go. Bottoms up!

Harold: Thanks, old sausage! (takes a large swig) Aaaaaaargh!

Narr 4: Harold keels over, then dies.

Laura: A little concoction of mine – A very stiff drink – Gin with a side order of starch!

Narr 4: A man enters the scene

Doctor 1: You called for a doctor?

Laura: No.

Dr 1: I came anyway. Is this the stiff?

Laura: Yes…

Dr 1: He’s dead!

Laura: You ‘are’ a doctor!

Dr 1: I know! I went to Doctoring School for an absolute age. It was Hell!

Laura: What are we to do?

Dr 1: I think that we should call another doctor.

Laura: Protocol?

Dr 1: Yes! Dr. Protocol!

Narr 4: Another man arrives

Dr Protocol: You called?

Dr 1: We did.

Dr P: I am here. Is this the stiff?

Dr 1: No, that’s Laura!

Laura: (miffed) Excuse me. I am suffering with shock and trauma from the loss of a close one.

Dr P: How close?

Laura: I don’t know – I have no spatial awareness.

Dr 1: What? Should we call the police?

Dr P: The ‘Police!’

Narr 4: A ‘third’ Man arrives

DC Acey: I am the police.

Laura: I thought there would be more of you.

DC Acey: I’ve been dieting.

Dr 1: Can I be called Doctor 1 now? It’s all rather confusing.

Laura: Certainly, Doctor 1 – If that is your ‘real’ name!

DC Acey: And I am DC Acey – and no puns on that or I shall have to nick you; with this penknife!

Laura: Charming!

Dr 1: Can you provide a second opinion, Dr. Protocol?

Dr P: It usually takes longer, but I shall try… he’s dead!

DC Acey: Well done! Now, I must carry out some preliminary tasks. Firstly: Hello, hello, hello!

Omnes: Hello!

DC Acey: Is this the stiff?

Dr 1: No, that’s Laura!

Laura: Really!

DC Acey: Sorry, miss, if you’d move about a bit more.

Dr P: I can say nothing more… But, I can see no cause for the deceased’s death – apart from a lack of breathing!

Laura: Are you really a doctor?

DC Acey: No, Miss, I am a Detective Constable! These two, however…

Laura: Sorry!

Dr 1: Would a knife sticking into his back be… a clue to his probable death?

Dr P: Yes – is there one?

Dr 1: No.

Narr 4: There is a lull in the proceedings while everyone considers what has happened.

DC Acey: Ummm!

Laura: Don’t you have to draw around the body now?

DC Acey: Yes – that’s a plan!

Dr. 1: Should I call an ambulance?

DC Acey: You should, yes.

Dr 1: (trying to add to the tension) But, will I?

DC Acey: Yes, you will; stop being a prat!

Laura: Doctor?

Dr 1 and Dr P and DC Acey: Yes, Laura?

Laura: Dr Protocol?

DR P: Yes, Laura?

Laura: I’ve been getting these pains in my chest – would you like to take a look?

DC Acey: I’m not sure that is a good idea!

Dr P: Why not?

DC Acey: Because Laura is hiding a secret!

Laura: I am?

SFX Dramatic Music

Laura: Yes, it’s true! I have a deep, dark secret. Nobody has realised that I am not Laura, but…

Narr 4: To be continued!

SFX Murder Mystery Music

Narr 4: That was episode 1 of Act 1, Scene 1…

Narr 3: …of a 1 act, 1 scene play, entitled…

Narr 2: The Clue is in the Questioning…

Narr 4: Or…

Narr 1: Murder is only ‘Red Rum’ reversed.

Narr 4: Or…

SD (Gradually fades out)

Narr 3: Is this a dagger I see… in me?

Narr 4: Or…

Narr 2: Where there’s a will, there’s an alibi!

Narr 4: Or…

Narr 1: Ouch!

Music to End.

#dialogueforaplay (Tweets 106-111)

hash-tag dialogueforaplay 106-111

106

PC Leaves (it’s his name) leaves.

Lady W: Do you think he suspects?

Syd: He hasn’t a clue!

Stiff: He’s not alone.

Tbc

107

Syd: Are you still alive?

Stiff: I’m ‘invincible!’

Lady W: I can see you!

Stiff: Really?

Lady W: As plain as this!

Tbc

108

The dagger gets the stiff ‘really’ dead.

Lady W: Now that ‘we’ have cleared the field, the Whom fortune is mine!

Tbc

109

Syd: Yours?

Lady W: Yes, mine, take this!

Syd: A bottle with ‘Poison!’ writ on it!

Lady W: I’m all out of knives.

Tbc

110

Syd: Do you really think I’m going to drink this?

Lady W: Not at all – that’s why I coated the bottle in poison.

Tbc

111

Syd: You…

Syd dies

Lady W: …win?

PC Leaves returns.

PC: I’m going to need a bigger notebook!

PC Leaves leaves

Tbc

hash-tag dialogueforaplay advert

#dialogueforaplay (tweets 76-90) The Gravy Plot Thickens

hash-tag dialogueforaplay 76-90

76

DCI: It’s my opinion that the ‘perpetrator’ was known to the ‘victim’.

PC: They were married, sir.

DCI: Precisely!

Tbc

77

DCI: Constable, I want you to round up the witnesses and have them all gathered in the… here… In ten minutes.

Tbc

78

DCI: I shall now round up the ‘stiff’ and the ‘murderer’ and then we shall have one of those ‘Poirot-like’ reveals.

Tbc

79

The police leave in opposite directions. Then recross the room, leave again. The ‘stiff’ returns, resumes place.

Tbc

80

Nothing happens for a few minutes. Apart from the ‘stiff’ trying to get comfy. The phone rings. Nobody answers it.

Tbc

81

Phone stops. Dr P enters, answers the unringing phone.

Dr P: Hello… Yes… 14 ounces in a pound, no. 16! Bye!

Tbc

82

Dr P: Are you still dead?

Stiff: Me?

De P: Nobody else here.

Stiff: Dead as a Do.

Dr P: Dodo?

Stiff: Not that dead!

Tbc

83

Dr P: So, there is no victim.

Stiff: I’m teaching them a lesson.

Dr P: ‘Them’ are my family!

Dr P shoots the stiff.

Tbc

84

Dr P leaves. The Police et al return (not Dr P).

DCI: Hello, hello, hello…

Omnes: Hello!

DCI: I heard a gunshot!

Tbc

85

PC: I can see those months at Detective School weren’t wasted.

Dr 1: The dead man!

Omnes: What?

Dr1: He’s… dead!

Tbc

86

Dramatic Chords

Dr 1: No, he’s really dead. Before, he was only pretentious!

Stiff: Pretending!

Dr 1: Pretending.

Tbc

87

DCI: So, he’s ‘really’ dead?

Dr 1: Really! I should know – I am a doctor!

Dr P enters.

Dr P: No, that is not true!

Tbc

88

DCI: Not a doctor?

PC: Not ‘dead?’

Dr 1: Yes, I am not a ‘dead’ doctor.

Dr P: Nor a ‘doctor!’

Dr1: What about Nora?

Tbc

89

DCI: It seems a murder ‘may’ or ‘may not’ have occurred, I shall go to any lengths.

Dr1: Are you paid by the yard?

Tbc

90

Dr P: What about my ‘impersonating a doctor’ accusation?

DCI: I take that most seriously. Constable, arrest him!

Tbc

hash-tag dialogueforaplay advert

#dialogueforaplay (Tweets 51-63 – to the Intermission)

hash-tag dialogueforaplay 51-65ish

51

Dr 1: You called him a stiff – I heard you!

Dr P: Yes, you did!

Dr 1: I know I did – I was listening!

Dr P: Really? Tbc

-/-

52

Dr 1: About that Nightcap…

DC Acey: Okay! Listen…

Dr 1: (listens)

Dr P: (listens)

DC Acey: I so needed that!

Tbc

-/-

53

A woman enters the scene There is a knock at the door.

Woman: I’m ‘so’ out of sync this morning.

Dr P: And you are?

Tbc

-/-

54

Woman: Yes, I am- a state of ‘being’ is so necessary these days, don’t you think? Dr 1: He doesn’t – none of us do.

Tbc

-/-

55

Woman: I am the Lady Whom… married to Lord Whom – whom I am meeting here, today. Is he here?

Dr 1: Tall? Dead?

Tbc

-/-

56

Woman: He is tall – he wasn’t dead the last time I spoke to him.

Dr P: This him?

Woman: No!!

DC Acey: Not me! Him!

Tbc

-/-

57

Woman: He’s… dead!

Omnes: Are ‘you’ a doctor?

Woman: I may be. Who is asking?

Omnes: We are!

Woman: Yes, you are!

Tbc

-/-

58

DC Acey: Well?

Woman: Yes, thank you – apart from a recent shock to the marital status. He was a Lord, you know.

Tbc

-/-

59

Omnes: We’d gathered that!

Dr P: But, what use is a dead Lord?

Wom: About as much use as a live one – in his case

Tbc

-/-

60

Dr 1: We have called him an ambulance!

Wom: I’ve called him far worse than that, dearie!

DC Acey: Shall we dance?

Tbc

-/-

61 Intermission –

You may dance! You may not, however, do the Mashed Potato or the Susi Q if there is an ‘r’ in the month.

-/-

62

The music continues as the characters (the live ones only) dance a waltz – sadly the music is not a waltz tune.

Tbc

-/-

63

Ann Owncer: Ladies & Gentlemen… if you could be resuming your seats in a moment… the second act is about to begin!

-/-

#dialogueforaplay Tweets 41-50

hash-tag dialogueforaplay 41-50

41

Dr P: More important – Who are you?

Dr 1: Whom!

Dr P: Let’s not argue over grammar!

Dr 1: (bitter) She started it!

Tbc

42

Dr P: You!

Dr 1: Me!

DC Acey: Are you?

Dr P: Yes!

DC Acey: And you?

Dr 1: Yes!

DC Acey: My Uncles!

Dr P: My God!!!!

Tbc

43

Dr 1: Grandma Whom was a fine old lady – who had the bad grace to live too long and, when she died, made cats rich!

Tbc

44

Dr P: You never liked Grandma… or cats!

Dr 1: What is there to like about cats?

DC Acey: Ladies! Handbags away!

Tbc

45

Dr 1: He started it!

DC Acey: And I’m stopping it!

Dr P: I never liked you!

DC Acey: What I do?

Dr 1: He means me!

Tbc

46

DC Acey: I’m Harold Whom – and this is not my ‘twin’ brother. No, the deceased! Dr P; I know that, I’m your father!

Tbc

47

Dr 1: Any chance of a recap!

Dr P: It’s a bit early, old stick; the sun’s not over the yard arm yet – is it Harold? Tbc

48

DC Acey: That’s the stiff! He’s extremely unlikely to have an opinion – on anything!

Dr P: Do we know who he is?

Tbc

49

Dr P: And before you say it, I was talking about the stiff; and not Dr 1.

Dr 1: Do we know yet who the stiff was?

Tbc

50

DC Acey: No! You cannot call the deceased ‘The Stiff’ – it’s disrespectful!

Dr P: But, he has gone somewhat stiff!

Tbc

hash-tag dialogueforaplay advert

#dialogueforaplay Tweets 31-40

hash-tag dialogueforaplay 31-40

31

Laura: Harold was my twin!

DC Acey: I must caution you, Miss- Sir! You have admitted to killing this… he’s gone!

Tbc

32

DC Acey: Oh, no, there he is.

Dr 1: Are you sure you’re a policeman, a rozzer, the filth, a blue meanie, old Bill?

Tbc

33

Dr P: He is who he says he is.

Dr1: Whom!

Dr P: Yes, Whom is his name – I give you Harold Whom.

Laura: Not DC Acey?

Tbc

34

Dr 1: I’m confused. Is he DC Acey; or is he Harold Whom?

DC Acey: Both! I am undercover – in disguise as a cop!

Tbc

35

Dr 1: Wasn’t talking to you!

DC Acey: So sorry!

Dr P: Well – he is Both! He is undercover… in disguise as a cop.

Tbc

36

Laur: It’s not about him! I cold-bloodedly murdered Harold and you just don’t care!

DC Acey: He’s not Harold! I am!

Tbc

37

Dr P: I am Dr. Protocol.

DC Acey: I am his son, Harold Whom. I took my mother’s name.

Dr 1: Harold?

DC Acey: No!

Tbc

38

Laur: And I am Laurence or Laura Protocol – if anybody is interested!

Dr 1: One thing ‘has’ just occurred to me…

Tbc

39

Laur: No, I didn’t think you were. I’m leaving – you may notice me, when I have gone!

Dr 1: It’s this – who’s he?

Tbc

40

DC Acey: That’s Laura… Laurence… gone?

Dr 1: No! The stiff! Who is the stiff! Or should I say the ‘deceased?’

Tbc

——————————————————————————

If you observe any discrepancies in the above… we would be only too glad to hear about them from you – you may have to join a rather long queue G:)