Rock'n'Roll Murders

Chapter 1......

Before he had even cut off the last note of the song the audience was cheering and clapping.  As he finished, bowed and waved, Harry Jones was awed by the adulation.  It was incredible that after all his years in the business it had taken this rock and roll invasion from America – and his new incarnation – to bring about such success.

He turned to his backing group, The Pirates (Sid and Johnny on guitars and Olly on drums) to thank them and invited the audience to applaud them.  If it wasn’t for them he wouldn’t be here now.  He was the new “teenage” sensation, Long John Silver, a glittering figure in silver trousers and blouson top.  With, of course, the regulation black hair cut in the style made popular by film stars such as Tony Curtis (and copied by Elvis Presley who, now doing his military service, sported a much shorter cut) – a quiff on top and the sides brushed back into the style called a DA (duck’s arse).

The Pirates?  They were dressed as pirates in black trousers, white frilly shirts, red bandanas and long black hair tied back at the nape.

“Oh!  Wow! You’re fantastic!” Harry told the audience.

“No, you are!”

“I love you, Long John!”

“You’re the best!”

These were just some of the replies from the teenagers in front of him.

Having entertained them with his new song, he broke into the one they had all been waiting for – his latest hit.

“Whew!  That was some show.”  Johnny, the bass guitarist flopped down on a sofa beside Olly and looked around at the group as they relaxed in the green room with its grubby cream walls.  Sid and Harry were stretched out on easy chairs, the guitar cases on the floor between them.  Olly’s drum kit was covered and stowed just off stage.

“The best!” Sid Field who was the laconic rhythm guitarist agreed.

“Liked that new riff you put into ‘Singing the Blues’,” Harry told him as he pulled off his wig, revealing floppy straw coloured hair.

“Bit dangerous, innit, taking off the wig?” Johnny asked.

“Fans aren’t likely to come in here.”

“No, mate, but back stage staff might and it only takes one to talk to the press,” Olly Dickens, his close friend, reminded him.

Harry replaced his wig and grumbled.  “It’s alright for Johnny with his black hair but I don’t want to start going bald.”

“D’you reckon?”  Sid asked with a worried look on his lean face.

“Don’t worry, Sid,” Harry reassured him.  “Fashions change.  If we continue as a ‘success’” (he finger quoted the word), “we’ll change our style.  If we fail, we do something else.”

“If the fans here in Granton-on-Sea are anything to go by…..” Olly left it unfinished.

“And Manchester, Birmingham, Bristol, etcetera,” Johnny Paine finished with a grin and they all punched the air.

'Murder in Mitcham Parva

This is the opening of the fourth Cleo Marjoribanks murder mystery......

I don't believe it!  Only back from Spain for a few weeks and there's another body. No, I haven't found another one as I did when David and I were on holiday.  Apparently there's been a murder in another village in the Forest - that's the New Forest in Hampshire.

This morning before Mrs. Walsh - who 'does' for me - had unpacked her overall and put on the kettle (sorry - switched on the kettle) she was in full spate with the news.

'Had a terrible shock,' she told me in her New Forest burr. 'Linda's dead.'

'Who?'

'My friend, Linda'

'Sorry to hear that.  Was she ill?'

'No-o-o.  Murdered.'  She wrung her hands.  Yeah, honest she did.  She only needed a puzzled look from me to continue, 'Her husband found 'er in the garding this morning.  She went out to bingo in their church 'all last night and didn't come 'ome.'

'Wasn't he worried?'

She shook her head which is now a strange chocolate brown with blue tips and whispered. 'Separate bedrooms.'

'He wouldn't know she'd stopped out.'

'Right, but I don't know why 'e didn't notice at breakfast.'

'Letting her have a lie in?'

'Nah.  She works at Mitcham Manor.  Cleaning, like me, so she'd 'ave ter be up early.'

'You said she was murdered?' I reminded her.

'Head bashed in.'

Yup, that'd kill someone. 'Oh dear.  How did you find out?'

'One of their neighbours phoned ter tell me and ask if I've got 'n hour or two ter spare today if they need someone ter fill in at the Manor.'

Her phone played 'My Way' - she's a Frank Sinatra fan - and she rummaged in her bag for it. That's when I noticed that her nails match the blue in her hair.

When she'd finished the call and was jotting something in her Filofax I asked, 'Why do you still have a Filofax? You can put all that info onto the phone.'

'Don't know how to. This is a new one my 'usband give me.' She snorted. 'A phone's a phone. That's all I need. It's easier ter plan my weeks with the Filofax.'

Rather like me and my calendar. Incidentally, she's a bit older than me.  I think somewhere in her fifties and, so my friend Paula tells me, is always formal. Calls all her clients Mrs. or Miss - whatever. We've decided it must be a family trait as it seems all her family worked in service. You know, maids and things in the big houses.

Mug of tea and two biscuits later Mrs. Walsh finally got started on the work and I went to my office - or study or whatever you want to call it - and phoned Paula.

So you don't get confused I'd better tell you a bit more about me. My name's Cleo Marjoribanks and I'm from the East End of London (cockney-land). When I won the lottery I chucked me job in and bought an old house in Trewith Green, a village in the New Forest.  The house isn't that big, room to spread myself with room to spare for visitors.  And Mrs. Walsh comes a couple of times a week to 'do' for me.

..................

Available on Kindle: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00V3CX074 

'A Young Man's Dreams'

This, my latest book, is now available on Kobo and Smashwords (for various e-readers). Eventually all of my books will be available on these sites.

A Young Man's Dream is something new for me - not a mystery. I originally had the idea many years ago when living in Florida and involved with Historic Preservation. This meant I had to do a lot of research and realised that a book about historic Florida was something I wanted to write. That's how it began but the more I wrote about Joseph Montgomery the more I decided that there was a lot more to this young man. So the book opens in Chicago in 1908 when he is a Theatrical Agent. Before the end of the Book he is living in New York, has a house in Florida and is involved in the development of the town.

This is Book 1 and I am currently working on Book 2, and have ideas for Book 3.

As they say - time to start reading Book 1!!!

Incidentally, it is also available on Amazon Kindle and in paperback.