It's all go. Sometimes I really think I should hang up my typewriter and retire to the Sun, somewhere relaxing like Malaga or Bognor Regis. But then, I would probably be bored all too soon. Although it is difficult to be bored when MURDER follows one around like a shadow.
Last week, I was travelling back from vistiting with my Nephew in Aberdeen. I caught the sleeper at 7.20pm and was due to get to London at 9.30 the following day. I ensured that I took provisions with me this time as I had a most unfortunate experience on the Trans-Siberian Express last year, involving a pickled herring and an elderly Colonel's pith helmet. That tale I shall save for a future episode.
Anyway, it was approaching Nine O'Clock and I was just tucking in to a brisket bap when the train took a great jault and it was immediately apparent that the brakes had been applied most firmly. Eventually the locomotive drew to a halt and I became aware of a certain clamour occuring trackside. On raising the blind, I could just make out the figures of the guard and driver, walking the tracks with a torch. I raised the window and enquired as to what was going on.
The body of a girl, aged no more than twenty-five, had been discovered in the luggage compartment and the guard had pulled the communication cord in a flap. Naturally I had little choice but to investigate...
Read of this in my new novel, "The Case of The Crumpled Portmanteau", available in hard-back for Christmas.
Last week, I was travelling back from vistiting with my Nephew in Aberdeen. I caught the sleeper at 7.20pm and was due to get to London at 9.30 the following day. I ensured that I took provisions with me this time as I had a most unfortunate experience on the Trans-Siberian Express last year, involving a pickled herring and an elderly Colonel's pith helmet. That tale I shall save for a future episode.
Anyway, it was approaching Nine O'Clock and I was just tucking in to a brisket bap when the train took a great jault and it was immediately apparent that the brakes had been applied most firmly. Eventually the locomotive drew to a halt and I became aware of a certain clamour occuring trackside. On raising the blind, I could just make out the figures of the guard and driver, walking the tracks with a torch. I raised the window and enquired as to what was going on.
The body of a girl, aged no more than twenty-five, had been discovered in the luggage compartment and the guard had pulled the communication cord in a flap. Naturally I had little choice but to investigate...
Read of this in my new novel, "The Case of The Crumpled Portmanteau", available in hard-back for Christmas.
