Crispin really has vanished, then the police will soon have to be involved. Taking me out of the equation doesn’t really help. I don’t want any more of that stuff on my plate by the way.’
‘Yes you do. They’re really good chips and this is really good sauce. I didn’t know you got artisanal ketchup this far out of Hampstead. Still, it’s true what you say. You’d rather expect the police to be at least as good as you at solving murders. Of course, the entire premise of the amateur detective novel is that the main character has some special skill – a knowledge of local history or Sudoku or quilting, say – that gives them an insight into crime that a lifetime of mere police work can never match. Perhaps that is how we should approach this problem. What special abilities do you have, Ethelred?’
‘I’m a crime writer,’ I said.
Elsie patted my hand. ‘I know,’ she said sympathetically, ‘but you must have some useful skills.’
‘I’ve developed my proficiency in logical deduction.’
‘Not according to the last review I saw on Amazon,’ said Elsie.
‘Was that one of Thrillseeker’s reviews by any chance?’
‘Who?’
‘I was reading them last night. It’s the Amazon
nom de plume
of somebody out there who dislikes my books very much. He seems determined to read all of them so that he can post on Amazon how much he hates them. He doesn’t think I can do logical deduction or anything else. He usually gives me one star.’
‘That’s harsh. Most of them are worth at least two.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Well, some of them, anyway. Does he actually buy the books?’
‘He seems to have read them. All of them.’
‘A fan of sorts, then. I’ll check him out,’ said Elsie. ‘So this murder …’
‘If there has been one, which I still doubt.’
‘… if there has been one, which you still doubt … has been committed for some reason that a crime writer would understand but not a policeman. Hence wanting the crime writer off the case.’
‘You’re talking as if we’re in a novel,’ I said. ‘You’re assuming that the whole thing has been set up in a particular way and that we can draw inferences from every tiny detail. Actually things don’t work like that in real life. In an actual murder inquiry, most things are just irrelevant background noise. So, there’s no point in looking for the special skills that I have.’
‘You don’t do quilting, I suppose?’ asked Elsie.
‘No,’ I said.
‘Beekeeping?’
‘That was Sherlock Holmes.’
‘So it was. Well, if you are really determined to help Henry, what we need to do next is to establish where this church is.’
‘Hold on,’ I said. ‘I’m
not
determined to help him – quite the reverse – I’ve told him I’ve quit. And somebody is threatening to kill me if I continue.’
‘Not specifically,’ said Elsie. ‘It’s a bit vague. Hardly a threat at all. This is designed to mildly frighten you – that’s all. Let’s remember he – or she – uses semicolons. Who worries about grammar when writing a real death threat? I’d have said there was a forty to fifty per cent chance they were bluffing.’
‘And a fifty to sixty per cent chance they are not.’
‘Acceptable odds.’
‘Only if they’re somebody else’s odds.’
‘Oh, come on! Whoever wrote this note is clearly a nutter.’
‘That isn’t as reassuring as you seem to imagine,’ I said.
She picked up the note and examined it again.
‘Ethelred, this note is about as low-tech as you can get. It is not what somebody does if they can really track your every move. It’s not what somebody does if they can listen in on your phone calls and follow each keystroke on your computer. It’s what they do if they want to frighten you off for the cost of a sheet of A4 and an envelope. They couldn’t even be arsed to put a stamp on it, for goodness’ sake.’
‘I’m done with it. End of.’
‘You need the reviews. End of. Anyway, it will be
‘Yes you do. They’re really good chips and this is really good sauce. I didn’t know you got artisanal ketchup this far out of Hampstead. Still, it’s true what you say. You’d rather expect the police to be at least as good as you at solving murders. Of course, the entire premise of the amateur detective novel is that the main character has some special skill – a knowledge of local history or Sudoku or quilting, say – that gives them an insight into crime that a lifetime of mere police work can never match. Perhaps that is how we should approach this problem. What special abilities do you have, Ethelred?’
‘I’m a crime writer,’ I said.
Elsie patted my hand. ‘I know,’ she said sympathetically, ‘but you must have some useful skills.’
‘I’ve developed my proficiency in logical deduction.’
‘Not according to the last review I saw on Amazon,’ said Elsie.
‘Was that one of Thrillseeker’s reviews by any chance?’
‘Who?’
‘I was reading them last night. It’s the Amazon
nom de plume
of somebody out there who dislikes my books very much. He seems determined to read all of them so that he can post on Amazon how much he hates them. He doesn’t think I can do logical deduction or anything else. He usually gives me one star.’
‘That’s harsh. Most of them are worth at least two.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Well, some of them, anyway. Does he actually buy the books?’
‘He seems to have read them. All of them.’
‘A fan of sorts, then. I’ll check him out,’ said Elsie. ‘So this murder …’
‘If there has been one, which I still doubt.’
‘… if there has been one, which you still doubt … has been committed for some reason that a crime writer would understand but not a policeman. Hence wanting the crime writer off the case.’
‘You’re talking as if we’re in a novel,’ I said. ‘You’re assuming that the whole thing has been set up in a particular way and that we can draw inferences from every tiny detail. Actually things don’t work like that in real life. In an actual murder inquiry, most things are just irrelevant background noise. So, there’s no point in looking for the special skills that I have.’
‘You don’t do quilting, I suppose?’ asked Elsie.
‘No,’ I said.
‘Beekeeping?’
‘That was Sherlock Holmes.’
‘So it was. Well, if you are really determined to help Henry, what we need to do next is to establish where this church is.’
‘Hold on,’ I said. ‘I’m
not
determined to help him – quite the reverse – I’ve told him I’ve quit. And somebody is threatening to kill me if I continue.’
‘Not specifically,’ said Elsie. ‘It’s a bit vague. Hardly a threat at all. This is designed to mildly frighten you – that’s all. Let’s remember he – or she – uses semicolons. Who worries about grammar when writing a real death threat? I’d have said there was a forty to fifty per cent chance they were bluffing.’
‘And a fifty to sixty per cent chance they are not.’
‘Acceptable odds.’
‘Only if they’re somebody else’s odds.’
‘Oh, come on! Whoever wrote this note is clearly a nutter.’
‘That isn’t as reassuring as you seem to imagine,’ I said.
She picked up the note and examined it again.
‘Ethelred, this note is about as low-tech as you can get. It is not what somebody does if they can really track your every move. It’s not what somebody does if they can listen in on your phone calls and follow each keystroke on your computer. It’s what they do if they want to frighten you off for the cost of a sheet of A4 and an envelope. They couldn’t even be arsed to put a stamp on it, for goodness’ sake.’
‘I’m done with it. End of.’
‘You need the reviews. End of. Anyway, it will be
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