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Beaten to the Punch: And Other Mysteries
Beaten to the Punch: And Other Mysteries
Beaten to the Punch: And Other Mysteries
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Beaten to the Punch: And Other Mysteries

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The small talk at a summer barbeque is rudely interrupted by a baffling murder. It looks like poison, but how can that be when everyone has shared the same food and drink? Alma Easter, a cake-obsessed old lady, knows the answer.

With this and other intriguing mysteries, Beaten to the Punch contains a variety of entertaining short stories for anyone who loves a cosy read.

Contents:
A Grey Webb
A Heavy Sleeper
Dying to Confess
Beaten to the Punch
Take the Heat
The Missing Unicorn
In the Neighbourhood
One Dead Piglet
A Screaming Murder
The Bloodied Sword
The Watercolour
A Murder at Breakfast

About 25,000 words.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherAlice Webb
Release dateJul 8, 2015
ISBN9781310620577
Beaten to the Punch: And Other Mysteries
Author

Alice Webb

Alice Webb can be found writing mysteries, eating cake or doing both at the same time.

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    Book preview

    Beaten to the Punch - Alice Webb

    Beaten to the Punch

    And Other Mysteries

    Alice Webb

    Copyright © 2015 by Alice Webb

    All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

    ISBN: 9781 3106 2057 7

    Cover illustration © 2015 by Alice Webb

    Distributed by Smashwords

    Contents

    A Grey Webb

    A Heavy Sleeper

    Dying to Confess

    Beaten to the Punch

    Take the Heat

    The Missing Unicorn

    In the Neighbourhood

    One Dead Piglet

    A Screaming Murder

    The Bloodied Sword

    The Watercolour

    A Murder at Breakfast

    A Grey Webb

    Alma Easter was by no means a flawless old woman. Her neighbours would testify to that, though they would be unwilling to explain why (for that would be impossible without admitting their little secrets that she had spied). But they would admit to Alma’s strong sense of right and wrong, such as when she knew it was very wrong for Mary Webb to be arrested for the murder of Ryan Grey.

    Well, that could be attributed less to her moral compass and more to her ability to see when facts just don’t add up.

    Alma knew Mary Webb, the little woman who doted on her little poodle. True, Mary had cried that Ryan would be sorry before long – a lot of would-be detectives had jumped on that – and she did have a reputation for acting a little erratically (such as chasing the dustbin men whilst wearing nothing but a pair of boots). But the more Alma pondered it, the less the murder made sense. It wasn’t just that Mary was the kind of woman that felt bad when killing spiders (although this helped) it was more knowing that Ryan drowned and Mary was scared of water.

    Not to mention that Ryan was a burly six-foot gardener and Mary’s feet didn’t touch the floor when she was sat on the bus. It was hard to imagine the latter wrestling the former under the surface.

    It was a Tuesday morning when Alma searched the newspaper for any updates, but it recapped the same tired facts: Ryan was found in the park pond by a bunch of kids. The ice, having kept all but the most dedicated dog walkers away, meant he had been dead a few days before being discovered. His dog lead was still wrapped around his hand, but the dog was yet unfound.

    That same dog, a Great Dane notorious its viciousness, had killed Mary’s Toy poodle only a few days before Ryan vanished. This made Mary suspect number one from the start, particularly when it was reported that Ryan felt no remorse – which is why she’d told him he’d be sorry.

    And finally, the victim’s heavy coat had been found away from the body, hidden in a bush. There were various theories about that telling clue. Timothy, from down the road, suggested Mary had made him take it off to watch him suffer in the cold. The more practical Donnalee believed Mary had been checking for weapons before she did him in. Alma thought the answer was obvious, in fact she couldn’t believe the authorities hadn’t figured it out yet.

    With a resigned sigh, Alma threw her goat-print scarf over her shoulder and walked briskly into the cold outside. The floor was still covered with patchy sprinklings of snow but her sharp eyes made easy work of picking the driest areas of pavement for the grips in her trainers to take hold of.

    Alma approached a grey building and curled her lips before pushing through the thick doors. The rich scent of coffee filled the warm air, a substance Alma despised; she could barely even stand coffee cake – something bitter about the smell stuck in the back of her throat like a chicken bone. She coughed and the uniformed officer looked up from the desk.

    I had an appointment.

    The officer in charge of the case was a pleasant surprise from the broad and oafish apes suggested in the many murder mysteries lining Alma’s bookshelves. Admittedly, James Mushens was stereotypically broad and tall, perfectly suited to tackling criminals as he, no doubt, had to do many times a day. But he also possessed an air of understated intelligence and optimism. He regarded his visitor with a simple curiosity, rather than the distain Alma had been dreading.

    How can I help you Miss … Easter was it?

    Mrs Easter, yes. I was a friend of Mary Webb, the lead suspect, I believe, in the murder case of Ryan Grey?

    Both parties waited for the other to continue. Alma smoothed her frilly pink skirt and went on.

    And I was just wondering if you could explain how a woman could drown a man twice her size? Or if you knew that Mary was hydrophobic?

    I was aware of this yes, and I’m aware how little her character fits the crime, despite the almost universal support against her. Although, with the latest development, I don’t think the masses can be held off much longer?

    There wasn’t anything in today’s paper.

    I bet you there will be tomorrow. He took a gulp of coffee. His dog was found, drowned too, in the same pond as its owner. For those claiming she wanted revenge for her little Crystal, it all but concretes the deal, unless I can make sense of it all before the news goes public.

    Well that’s a relief. The drowned dog proves it.

    It does?

    Well yes! Don’t you see?

    Of course Alma knew he didn’t see it. She loved the theatrics. And, instead of explaining, she smiled at him in the same condescending way her grandmother used to smile at her. It made the wrinkles around her eyes bunch up.

    Mushens took another sip of his coffee, shuffled his papers, licked his lips and finally said it. Proves what?

    Alma glanced at the scattered heaps of papers crowding the desk. No doubt his mind was as messy as his workspace – no wonder he couldn’t find anything.

    Mr Mushens, I’d like to share a theory I’ve been playing around with, if you don’t mind? It’s not as exciting as a grisly murder but you know how us pensioners have to keep ourselves occupied. How about Ryan was by the pond because he was walking his dog, one he was notoriously fond of despite it being a brute. If we remember the pond was frozen, and that it had recently snowed, it is not too unbelievable to imagine the dog ended up unknowingly walking on it. Being a large dog it was inevitable that the ice would break, and so it did and the brute went in. Seeing his beloved dog struggle, Ryan pulled off his coat and jumped in after it. Unfortunately, this did neither of them of any good. Alma blinked. "But then it’s

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