THE FLOWER SHOW MURDER a gripping English cozy mystery (Monica Noble Book 2) by FAITH MARTIN

Author:FAITH MARTIN [MARTIN, FAITH]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Joffe Books crime thriller, mystery and suspense
Published: 2024-08-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Jason stepped outside the tent and looked around. Of all the murder scenes he’d had to cope with, this was by far the most unusual, and the most nightmarish. There had to be hundreds of people in the playing field. How to start eliminating them?

He heard a shout from the football field, and a ragged cheer went up. Well, those playing football could be knocked off the list for a start, he mused, and felt himself smile ruefully.

The question, of course, was when was the capsule planted? If it had been deposited fairly early in the day, it could have been anybody who’d done the deed, although Dr Gordon Trenning surely had to be top of the list.

He got out his notebook and began making memos to himself.

Question the rose-grower.

Question those in the tent to see if anybody went near the rose, or smelt it, at any time. That might give him a time frame for the planting of the murder weapon.

Find out who hated the vicar . . . At this he paused and shook his head. A vicar, for pity’s sake! Although he knew that attacks on the clergy were, in this modern day and age, sadly on the rise, even so, this killing was so bizarre. He couldn’t help but feel that it just didn’t fit somehow. It felt off. A high-tech crime committed against a harmless clergyman just didn’t gel.

And yet, James Davies was dead.

He’d already sent out constables to find Dr Trenning. If he had indeed been responsible for the outlandish murder weapon, what on earth had possessed the man to make it?

‘The preliminary interviews are almost over, sir.’ Brian Gilwiddy’s voice interrupted his dire musings.

Jason sighed heavily. ‘Right. We need a temporary incident room,’ he said, looking around the area vaguely. His eyes alighted on the fortune-teller’s tent. It was small but private. It would do at a pinch.

‘Right, clear the fortune-teller’s tent, will you? We’ll use that for an interview room. If she’s any good, it won’t come as much of a surprise to her,’ Jason added, with a wolfish smile.

Gilwiddy, surprised at his chief’s sudden flash of humour, grinned appreciatively and trotted off.

Jason was still writing memos to himself when Flora Glenn walked quickly up to his side. ‘Sir,’ she said sharply.

Something in her tone had Jason’s head rearing up quickly. His eyes quickly scanned around her, but she was alone. ‘No Dr Trenning?’ he asked archly.

Flora took a deep breath. ‘Yes, sir. That is, I’ve found him. But he’s dead.’

* * *

Flora led her superior officer around the big tea tent to the rear. Here Jason looked over the scene with a jaundiced eye.

The tent had been set up only about a foot from the perimeter fence. Lying in the narrow alleyway it created, face down, was the figure of a man. He looked pathetic. He was wearing a suit that was now hopelessly crushed and sweat-stained. The back of his head, showing already thinning hair, had been caved in by what looked like a single, massive blow.

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