Showing posts from September, 2012

The Piccadilly Circus murderer

I have just written a crime short story. I hope you like it.


She lay propped up by pillows as her husband burst into the room to soothe his sore throat with a sherry. The window was half-opened and he could easily hear the paperboy reading aloud the newspaper headline: "Dead banker in Piccadilly Circus. Puzzled police call detective Clemont Turpin".
After gulping down his sherry, he stared at his wife and said: "Mon amour, how is it possible they know faster than me?" And Colette replied: "That is because since Hercule Poirot got retired, the British chief inspector depends on you to solve his most complicated cases."
Suddenly, there was a knock at the hotel door. The knock was so light that Clemont did not hear it, and after a little while, a noise like a bang was heard. Clemont was approaching the door when he noticed that a man in his thirties was actually entering their hotel room. In panic, Clemont fetched the b…