11 September 2014

Vodka Tea, Little Old Ladies and Wardrobes

Case 1: The Case of the Missing Turnips  (Part 5)

17th June

Because of the revelation that the owner of the ring was my neighbour Mrs Wilcox I had to pay her a visit. First though I needed to dress, stripped pyjamas are not the most pratical of clothes, especially ones with a flap rather than a button or zip on the front! Eventually I strode to her house with a purpose in my steps. I knocked on her door, which fell off its hinges. Strange? So I moved cautiously inside, perhaps it was a trap? I was not cautious enough as I tripped on the fallen door a fell towards her small coffee table that had a priceless ming vase sitting pretty on its shiny surface. Hitting the table with considerable force, the vase flew into the air, I outstretched a gloved hand and just managed to....miss it. The crash could be heard from as far away as the kitchen, where Mrs Wilcox was making her homemade blackberry vodka (something she was apparently developing for Russian friend that she had got to know through her pal Mrs Blouse at the cricket club!) She peered around the kitchen door, but couldn't see a thing as her glasses had fallen off so was unaware of the broken ming vase or a suspious looking gentleman sprayed across her floor entangled with her front door. I said hi it's John from next door and she asked if I wouldn't mind helping her find her glasses. With pleasure I replied. An hour later they were discovered in her pinny pocket! She offered me a cup of tea. How could I refuse? And anyway I had to ask her about the ring and also needed to delay her from leaving the kitchen and discovering the devastation of a once priceless vase and a broken front door. Unless of course it was all an elaborate plan by her?

I showed her the ring, which she took from me, nearly pulling me finger off! It was my precious, I had decided and I wanted to keep it, but clearly wasn't going to get it back. She thanked me for returning it and proceeded to talk about some ladies club outing to Eastbourne and how the price of pork had risen so sharply in the supermarkets these days. All I wanted to do was ask her about the ring but she was cannily good at avoiding my questions and I was suddenly feeling a little light headed after the third cup of tea she gave me. I decided I was getting nowhere and thought that it was best to leave and try again when my head felt better. On turning away I felt a sudden blow to the head, not helped by a seemingly increasing headache I flopped to the floor, in an unconscious heap.

I awoke to find myself inside a locked wardrobe, full of old bloomers which clearly had seen better days. I was a hostage, I had to get out of here. I bashed the door with my foot, rocking the wardrobe as I did so, the bloomers started flying into my face, all pinks and floral patterns. I bashed some more and eventually the wardrobe decided to fall over. Hitting the floor it shattered, myself and the bloomers being thrown onto the bedroom carpet, eventually ending up in the opposite corner to where the wardrobe had been. Brushing them aside I rose, not noticing the giant moose head that hung from the wall. Hitting it square in the jaw we ended up both entangled in a pile of bloomers and wood. I had had quite enough. Clearly I had been set up by Mrs Wilcox, I had to find out why she had done this, what she had put in my tea and also ask about that ring, which was the whole reason for visiting in the first place. Remembering that the front door had, like the wardrobe been shattered into a thousand pieces I raced down the stairs, about to leap to freedom. However the door had been mended (how long had I been with her bloomers?) And once again I found myself nursing an increasingly sore head, but clear that Mrs Wilcox was up to something and quite possibly had a hand in the case of the missing turnips and the pigs. Also she was nowhere to be seen, so letting myself out I walked into freedom unaware that events were about to take a major turn....

To be continued.....


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