The Return of Colonel Moran – Part 3
7 John Clay was running faster than he ever had. In the dark, Friston forest was nature at its most forbidding. He had already fallen over several times. His knees hurt. Between bouts of panic, his mind kept flooding with the day’s events. After making the weapon pick up at Steyning, they had stayed put…
Keep readingThe Return of Colonel Moran – Part 2
4 The Bentley thundered down the country road in the dark. The rain fell on the car windows, futile in its attempt to slow down the driver. Lady Roberta Wickham was pushing the car to its limits. Sir Shash had not said a word for the past half hour. He simply stared at the countryside,…
Keep readingThe Return of Colonel Moran – Part 1
1 The sirens went off in HM Prison Dartmoor. Several moments too late. The escape was incomprehensible and unlikely. A tunnel. Yet it had happened. John Clay aka Vincent Spaulding, master bank robber had escaped. His imprisonment following the strange affair of the Red-Headed League had long since faded from the public memory. Tunnels had…
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The Race at Market Snodsbury – Part 3
From the diaries of Sir Shash, August 19_ I have attempted below to faithfully record the essence of a few interviews granted to the papers and magazines by those in the thick of things is what is now known as ‘The Market Snodsbury Grand Chase’. In newspapers, the matter has now been embellished more than…
Keep readingThe Race at Market Snodsbury – Part 2
From the diaries of Sir Shash, August 19_ Market Snodsbury is a small town in Worcestershire. Small is being generous. However, to its credit, said no one ever, it did have a rather wide road outside town. I suppose this road was its connection with the rest of humanity and to the nearest village of…
Keep readingThe Race at Market Snodsbury – Part 1
From the diaries of Sir Shash, August 19_ ‘Looks like you are in trouble Bertie,’ said Pongo Twisteleton, peeking over Bertie’s shoulder. Bertie gave him an indignant glare. It was the usual lazy afternoon in The Drones Club. Bertie and I were engrossed in a game of chess on an exquisite wooden board, gifted by…
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A violent mini story
The old detective in the armchair coughed repeatedly. I put a reassuring hand on his wrist and patted it once. He smiled and looked up at his companion who stood behind his chair. Dr Watson offered him a glass of water and said, ‘Holmes, you must get some rest now.’ ‘Watson, you worry too much…
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Whale Rider Inn
From the diaries of Sir Shash, July 19_ Soon after the happy reunion of Lady Florence with Stilton, Bertie and I were not surprised to note that they legged it to Malling Hall in Steeple Bumpleigh in a move, no doubt calculated by Stilton to secure Lord Worplesdon’s blessings before Lady Florence changed her mind…
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The Rescue
From the diaries of Sir Shash, June 19_ I lay on the floor unable to move. The screwdriver like throb behind my eyes was so intense I was immobilized. My hands and my legs were refusing to obey my commands. All I could do was move my neck a little. In front of me was…
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