Tag Archives: arrest

2114. Murder on the street

It came as a shock to the whole street – in fact it wasn’t much of a street, more of a cul-de-sac with just six houses on it – when Mr Algernon James was found lying dead at his front door with a carving knife stuck in his back. He lived at Number Four. Police carried out an exhaustive investigation. All five of the other households had salient motives.

There was Mrs Dorothy Phelps of Number One. Algernon James had run over her cat six months earlier. All that Algernon had said by way of apology was that “Your stupid cat shouldn’t have been on the road”.

There was Mr Harry Barnaby of Number Two. He was not happy that Algernon James had chainsawed down a significant tree on the street. It supposedly had been planted years earlier by Princess Diana not long after she had danced with John Travolta. All that Algernon had said was “It ruined my view, and since you love it so much why don’t you cart it away yourself.” Not a leaf was moved. It lay there as a relic.

Ms Tessa Clockbury of Number Three was a most displeased neighbour. She shared a boundary fence with Algernon and he had cut a hole in the fence so his dog could get through and do its business on her lawn. “A dog is a dog” was all that Algernon said.

Mr Tom Brick despised Algernon with all his might. He was at Number Five. Algernon had parked his old motor vehicle on the grass verge outside Tom’s house. It not only leaked oil on the lawn manicured to perfection by Tom, but the car had been sitting there for several months now and all that Algernon had said was “It’s a public street. You don’t own it.”

Finally there was Mrs Hyacinth Arrowsmith. It would take a novel to expound on why she held grudge after grudge against Algernon. Not least was a letter Algernon had written to the editor of the local newspaper (and printed) referring to “Hyacinth Arrowsmith, that old fart bag at Number Six”.

So there were the five suspects. Each could be guilty as far as the street gossips knew. It therefore was a great surprise when Mrs Noelle Brackenburg was arrested for the murder. No one had heard of her, and she didn’t even live on the street.

2011. Visiting an aunt

Let me tell you about my aunt. Her name is April. One day I decided to visit her, so I went to the train station to buy a ticket.

When I was lining up to buy a ticket a plumpish lady pushed past me in the line and said, “Get out of my way, you wheezy little wimp.”

To be honest, I saw red and retorted with, “Who the hell do you think you are?”

The man in the line behind me said “That’s no way to talk to a lady” and I said “Zip it, Sweet Pea”, whereupon he punched me on the jaw. I wasn’t taking that sitting down so I punched back. We got into a huge fight; in fact the whole queue of people got into a huge fight; in fact the whole railway station got into a huge fight. And half the people fighting didn’t even know what they were fighting about.

After a few minutes the police came, and I got arrested and taken away, so I don’t know how the incident ended. I got put in a room (I suppose it was a cell – I’m not sure what the inside of a cell looks like) and told to wait. I reckon I waited about two hours. When this woman eventually appeared I said, “Look, I think I lost my wallet in the scuffle,” and she said “Who cares? It’s your own fault. Shut up and show us some ID.”

I said “All my ID is in my wallet, you dumb cow,” and she stormed out saying “Wait here.”

Well I reckon I waited two more hours and then a policeman turned up and I said I needed to go to the bathroom, and he said “You’ll have a place to pee soon enough” and asked for my ID. I told him about my wallet and he said the same as the woman: “Who cares? It’s your own fault.”

He then asked if I could phone someone who could verify who I was and I said I lived alone and didn’t know anyone in town because I was relatively new here. So he said, well where did you used to live? And I said that I used to live with my Aunt April. The policeman said, “What is your Aunt April’s name,” and I said “It’s April you nincompoop. I just told you. You don’t know diddlysquat. ” And he said well he couldn’t contact everyone in the world called April. She must have another name, and I told him it was none of his business. I don’t have a right to be handing out people’s names willy-nilly.

The policeman said, “Wait here” and left. I tried all the doors and they were all locked except one and that was a toilet thank goodness. The policeman reappeared again and said the same thing, “Wait here.” And that’s what I’ve been doing these last two or more hours; waiting. I guess I won’t be visiting my aunt today.