The Mystery

 

The Mystery

If we want to freshen the air in the house, we open all the windows and have a good breeze running through. I also have reed diffusers in the porch and the cloakroom with a citrus scent. These give a subtle, unobtrusive, fresh, warm smell.

On Friday, the day before Bethan and Robert were due to visit us, I noticed an unpleasant smell in the sitting room. I had recently bought a different diffuser. It was so strong that the aroma caught in the back of my throat and gave me a headache. I moved it to the porch, where it continued to choke me when I went to the front door.

I tried a different one, which smelt fresher, but again, it eventually irritated my throat.

We wondered if there had been a chemical reaction somehow, though with what we couldn’t imagine. Eventually, I put the diffusers in the garden, but the nauseating smell remained indoors. Meanwhile, Barry took the dogs out for a walk, leaving me to continue last minute tasks.

I thought the revolting smell might be coming in from outside, and wondered if maybe it was the drains, so I shut the patio doors. The smell remained. I opened the doors again to allow some fresh air in. The smell seemed to gain in intensity, and I could not pinpoint the source.

When Bethan ‘phoned to say they were on their way, I thought that I must warn her of the awful smell. That way they could change their plans if they decided they didn’t want to share the odour with us. I would have understood completely, and rather fancied being somewhere else entirely myself.

However, they continued their journey and arrived just after midday. They noticed the smell – how could they not? – but said it was not as disgusting as I had suggested.

We had a very pleasant day together, but the smell lingered, and I was sure it was increasing. Just before Bethan and Robert left to return home, they traced the smell to a cupboard housing electronic equipment. Opening its doors released an almost overpowering malodorous stench.

As soon as the front door had closed behind them, Barry put on his head torch and started searching. There was nothing in the cupboard that shouldn’t be there, but on the floor behind it, among the wires, was the decomposing body of a mouse. It was swiftly removed and consigned to the bin and the smell dissipated almost immediately.

I believe we have Jellicoe to thank for this unexpected and undesirable gift. When he catches mice, he likes to bring them into the house. They are not always extinct. Obviously, he had brought one in while we were not in the room and it had had enough strength to escape, only to die behind the cupboard, poor little thing.

We are relieved that the drains are not problematic and that the floorboards will not have to be lifted. We will continue to do what we did the other day, and that is, to shut the patio door if we are not in the sitting room, to prevent Jellicoe bringing his prizes indoors.

Indeed, a couple of days ago, he was yelling at the door to be let in. As I opened the door, I noticed a lifeless mouse on the patio. Once they are dead, Jellicoe is no longer interested in them. Fortunately, he does not eat them. It’s better than being overrun with mice, anyway.

Murder most strange

 

Murder most strange

There were fourteen place settings. The hostess had served fish and on every plate there remained skeletons with varying amounts of flesh still clinging to them.

From her position at the head of the table, the inspector surmised that the victim was the lady of the house. Her hospitality had been poorly repaid, he mused.

It was clear that there had been a hasty exodus from the dining table. Crumpled napkins had been dropped on the floor, a couple of chairs had been knocked askew, and a wine glass had spilt its contents – red wine, the inspector observed, with snobbish distaste. Had the guests departed before or after the attack, and where were they all now?

Following his preliminary assessment of the scene, the inspector approached the body to seek further insight into the murder.  The woman, middle-aged, grey-blonde, was slumped sideways in her chair. A scarlet flower bloomed on the left side of her head, a rose of rich, dark red. The inspector swallowed hard. He had seen many such scenes before, but always the bile rose in his throat at the sickly, sweet smell.

A lemon wedge - evidently the victim had not squeezed it over her fish – was splashed with red. Her fork was smeared with crimson and – yes! There were clear fingerprints on it and on the plate. So, death had not been instantaneous. Had she grabbed the fork in a vain attempt to fight back? If so, who had replaced it so neatly, so grotesquely, next to the plate?

The inspector scratched his head and decided he’d better try to locate the rest of the party. He opened the door opposite the table and found himself in a large, square kitchen. It was crowded with people, all smartly dressed and obviously expecting him. He nodded at them, not sure what he should do next.

‘Well,’ said a tall, thin man. ‘What are your thoughts?’

A murmur of voices added, ‘Who do you suspect?’ and ‘It wasn’t me,’ and ‘Confess, Thomas.’

The inspector gazed at them and grinned suddenly. ‘It was very convincing,’ he said.

The ‘victim’ appeared behind him, smiling. ‘Sorry about the smell,’ she said. ‘I know you loathe tomato ketchup, but we had to make it look authentic. Come along now and have a stiff drink and join us for the rest of our meal.’

Everybody laughed and made their way back to the dining room. Murder Mystery dining events had become very popular recently.

Three lighthouse keepers

 

Three lighthouse keepers

                     Eilean Mor Lighthouse, Flannan Isles, Outer Hebrides

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

In common with many others, I find lighthouses magical and awe-inspiring. When they were managed and maintained by lighthouse keepers, I marvelled at the life the men lived, cut off from society for weeks on end, living in the midst of the elements. It seemed a romantic life, dangerous, self-sufficient, vital.

The Eilean Mor Lighthouse, situated on one of the Flannan Isles of the Outer Hebrides, 70 miles off the mainland west coast of Scotland, was erected at the top of a 200-foot cliff and was first lit on 7^th December, 1899. The seven small islands, sometimes called the Seven Hunters, were named after Saint Flann, an Irish saint who lived in the 7^th century.

The Eilean Mor lighthouse was one of the first buildings to be constructed on the island and there is a mystery associated with it, which has never been solved and probably never will be.  In 1900, three lighthouse keepers were responsible for maintaining the light, with a fourth relief keeper, Joseph Moore, left ashore. They were Thomas Marshall, James Ducat and Donald McArthur and on or around 15^th December, 1900, they disappeared without trace and were never seen again.

The first indication that something was amiss was when the logbook of the steamer Archtor recorded that, despite appalling conditions, the light was not working. The observation was relayed to the Northern Lighthouse Board, (the authority responsible for lighthouses in Scotland and the Isle of Man) when Archtor docked in Leith on 18^th December. Continuing poor weather meant that a relief vessel was unable to reach Eilean Mor until 26^th December.

On arrival, Joseph Moore discovered that the lamps had been cleaned and refilled and the kitchen was clean and neat, but there was no sign of the three keepers.  Only one set of oilskins was found indoors, indicating that at least two men had gone outside the living quarters and perhaps, that one had disobeyed Lighthouse orders and ventured out without an oilskin.

A search of the island proved fruitless, but it was clear that storm damage had been considerable; iron railings were bent over or broken, a huge rock had been displaced and turf had been torn up some 33 feet from the cliff edge.

On 12^th December, the last entry in the log book recorded severe weather conditions, with hurricane force winds. The assumption was that a dreadful accident had befallen the men and that they had been swept away while outside.  No bodies were ever found.

Naturally, superstition and folklore took over the public imagination and rumours were rife that they had been carried off by a sea serpent, or a ghost-filled boat had spirited them away. Sadly, no absolute solution was found to comfort the wives and children of the keepers.

The sea is a cruel mistress. 

                                          Eilean Mor Lighthouse

                                    Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Magpie Tales #95 The Fisherman

Image by Mostafa Habibi

Taking the path to the village along the cliff the old fisherman paused in his customary place to view the sea. The rowing boat caught his attention immediately - a dinghy cast up on the shore, oars shipped. No footprints on the smooth sand, no body drifting in the water, no sign of life anywhere. The tide crept closer, rocked the craft, yet it remained as though anchored. No seabirds wheeled in the air or pecked along the shore line and that was unusual.

The old man clambered down a narrow path to the beach. He wanted a closer look - there might be someone lying in the hull. He stood for a long time, watching, listening, before approaching the craft. The sand sucked at his boots and a sea mist crept in towards land, the dampness infiltrating his layers of clothing. He was not a fanciful man, indeed was known and respected for his practicality, but a sense of dread was growing in him.

Reaching the boat he peered in. There was nothing there. He chuckled and turned to retrace his steps. There were no footprints in the sand.

They missed him in the village, sent out search parties when days passed without sight of him, but he was never found. No-one claimed the dinghy and it soon drifted away. If anyone noticed the faded name they thought nothing of it. ‘Reaper’ wasn’t a local name.

Click here for more Magpies

Book Blurb Friday #15 An Ordinary Neighbourhood

This meme is hosted by Lisa Ricard Claro at ‘Writing in the Buff’ J

 Each week she posts a photo that could be the cover of a book. The aim is to:

‘Write a book jacket blurb (150 words or less) so enticing that potential readers would feel compelled to buy the book.’ 

Here is this week’s book cover. My blurb follows.

Image copyright Joseph J Claro

An Ordinary Neighbourhood

When Mike Bishop returns to his childhood home one hot July day he finds the neighbourhood deserted and eerily quiet. There are no vehicles, no birds singing in the trees, no dogs barking. The houses are all shut up and nothing stirs. The only evidence of human activity is an empty Heineken can lying on the grass.

Something cataclysmic has occurred but what? As Mike turns back to his car, his eye is caught by a slight movement behind one of the dustbins. A young boy with a dog emerges and walks towards him uncertainly. What the boy tells him chills his blood. Mike must warn the authorities but this proves to be more difficult than he ever could have imagined. 

Caught in the strange atmosphere, Mike begins to hallucinate and it is the child who must find a way for them all to escape.

(148 words including the title)

Book Blurb Friday #14

This meme is hosted by Lisa Ricard Claro at ‘Writing in the Buff’ J

 Each week she posts a photo that could be the cover of a book. The aim is to:

‘Write a book jacket blurb (150 words or less) so enticing that potential readers would feel compelled to buy the book.’ 

Here is this week’s book cover. My blurb follows.

Photo copyright Kay Davies

Dangerous Blooms

November in Paris is not as romantic as April but Simon and Mary don’t care. They’re in love and this is their first holiday together. A single geranium blooms in the window box of their room and Mary carefully presses it between the pages of her diary.

Odd noises in the night don’t bother them – a police surveillance unit is across the road. They couldn’t be safer.

When a masked man wakes them up in the early hours they discover that the unit is a cover for a far deadlier organisation and one that has been keeping them under observation. Why does the intruder demand to know what has happened to the bloom? What is the secret of the window box? Simon and Mary find themselves enmeshed in a mystery and with no-one to turn to for help, they must find answers quickly if they are to escape.

(150 words including the title)

Book Blurb Friday #12

This meme is hosted by Lisa Ricard Claro at ‘Writing in the Buff’ J

 Each week she posts a photo that could be the cover of a book. The aim is to:

‘Write a book jacket blurb (150 words or less) so enticing that potential readers would feel compelled to buy the book.’ 

Image copyright Sandra Davies

The third in the Museum Murder Mysteries series – Music has Charms to Sooth a Savage Beast (sic)

When the local museum is scheduled to undergo refurbishment the curator and her staff move the exhibits to adjoining storerooms.  Everything is stored by category, the bronze statues in one room, for example, musical instruments in another but when Miss Smithers checks before locking up and leaving the premises she is astonished to discover that things have been moved.

When the staff discover her lifeless body the following morning they are shocked to see how the statues have been rearranged. The musicians have been grouped together in a bizarre orchestra and the great Greek god stares down at the corpse while the two seated maidens are placed like umpires. More than that, there is blood on the claws and jaws of the stuffed tiger while St Francis averts his gaze. The tuba has been tucked under Miss Smithers’ arm. And why are the dolphins streaming water?

(146 words, excluding title)

Book Blurb Friday #8

This meme is hosted by Lisa Ricard Claro at ‘Writing in the Buff’ J

 Each week she posts a photo that could be the cover of a book. The aim is to:

‘Write a book jacket blurb (150 words or less) so enticing that potential readers would feel compelled to buy the book.’ 

 

Image copyright Sioux Roslawski

Remember me

Clearing out her late father-in-law’s house, Carol finds a photograph in a book. On the back are the words, ‘Remember me. Berlin 1976. Angelika Brandt.’ A telephone number is scribbled in the corner but the photo has been torn and the number is incomplete.

Carol determines to discover more about Angelika and travels to Berlin. Her husband insists on accompanying her. Marcus claims to know nothing of the mystery woman but seems uneasy. After a while Carol suspects that Marcus is hindering her research and starts to wonder what influence this woman yields. Was she associated with Marcus’ father or was it Marcus who knew her?

As she draws nearer the truth she realises that she is about to uncover a dark secret that has been hidden for more than thirty years. Her husband and the family that she thought she knew are changing before her eyes.

(147 words, excluding title)

Book Blurb Friday #4 Humpty Dumpty Sat On The Wall

                                                        
 This meme is hosted by Lisa Ricard Claro at ‘Writing in the Buff’ J

 Each week she posts a photo that could be the cover of a book. The aim is to:

‘Write a book jacket blurb (150 words or less) so enticing that potential readers would feel compelled to buy the book.’

Here is this week's photo followed by a possible blurb. Click here or on the icon for more blurbs.

Image copyright Kathy Matthews

A dimly lit corridor, endless and drab, panelled doors on either side – who would have thought this unremarkable setting would see such unparalleled violence?

Marcus Fielding arrives on the scene to investigate what the papers are calling ‘the crime of the century.’ What he uncovers is more shocking and far-reaching than anyone could imagine, putting at stake the political stability of the country.

As Marcus peels back the layers of deception and corruption his own life is endangered. Just as it seems that things cannot get any worse a desperate phone call from his estranged wife chills his very soul. Their small daughter is missing!

Is her disappearance a dreadful coincidence or is it connected with Fielding’s investigation?

(118 words, exclusive of title) 

Book Blurb Friday #2 The Golden Tree

This is the second week of the Book Blurb Friday challenge. Lisa from 'Writing in the Buff' provides a picture and participants are invited to create a blurb for an imaginary book. The challenging part is to use 150 words or less, excluding the title.

Last week Christina's beautiful green eye was the prompt. This week  - well, have a look and perhaps be inspired to join in!

Image copyright Christina Claro

What is the secret of the Golden Tree? 


Rumours abound – some say it’s sacred, others, evil. Terrible things have happened to several who have gone too close. Does the outcome depend on the innocence of those who approach?

The Thornleys, afraid for their children, have warned them to stay away but Mike and Jenny cannot resist going to see for themselves. They return repeatedly, entranced by its beauty, wondering that it never loses its leaves. It has a powerful energy and presence and as Mike and Jenny come to understand it they learn from its age-old wisdom. They hear what the tree is saying to them in its rustling leaves, even on the calmest days. They learn its prediction.

The children must warn their parents before it is too late – but will their message be 

believed?

On the night of the great storm matters come to a head.

(148 words excluding the title)

Book Blurb Friday #1

Lisa from 'Writing in the Buff' has launched Book Blurb Friday. Why not take a look and read what other bloggers have written to the prompt? Yes, I know it's Saturday, but events overtook me yesterday . . . (excuses, excuses!!)

Photo copyright Christina Claro

I could call it 'Casablanca' I suppose . . . but I think I'll give it another title - Moroccan Mystery (I prefer Casablanca!!)


Desperate to find her twin sister who has disappeared while working in Casablanca, Willow Banks travels to Morocco to trace Delphine’s last known movements. There she meets the owner of her sister’s rented flat. 


Though Jeff is friendly and attractive there are things about him that trouble Willow. Why has he got Delphine’s car keys? Why is he reluctant to introduce Willow to her sister’s group of friends? He says he’s never been to Delphine’s place of work and yet when she arrives to interview the manager she sees him nearby with two girls. His explanations are plausible and despite her misgivings Willow feels an attraction to him. 


Before long she finds herself succumbing to his charms. Meanwhile, a mysterious message purporting to be from Delphine leads her into strange and unexpected territory. Is she walking into danger? What sort of life has Delphine been leading?


(146 words without the title)