Wednesday, 7 April 2010
My New Book
Happy Easter! This post is a bit different, because I have been writing a book and I would like your comments on it. It is a comedy drama, inspired by Sherlock Holmes and a bit of Dr Who. I hope you enjoy.
THE DETECTIVE's PLAN A
Chapter 1: Where the Madness All Begins
“A cocktail and my pipe,is what I want, my dear acquaintance who is becoming a good friend,” shouted Gregory the detective in an extraordinary Cockney accent which was very out of character.“Yes, sir!” replied the hardworking servant who failed his A levels and couldn’t get into a university, who needed a job so took this one.
Once Gregory’s pipe had arrived, he started smoking rings of smoke which made me feel sick. I am Gregory’s companion, Rahul and I come from India. I am a detective, like Gregory, however not as skilled as he is at noticing clues. Gregory and I have done many cases together most of them being a success generally because of our teamwork.
Suddenly, a stranger came rushing in to our mansion that we had paid for with the money that was a reward from a rich man. We captured the robber who stole a hundred million pounds-worth of diamonds and pearls. The stranger cried:“Aieeee…something terrible has happened! My friend is dead! Please come!”
“Ahh...We shall come,” Gregory answered, in his American accent with a touch of sarcasm in his voice.
"It was a long journey there but I did not know how long it took for I do not have a watch. The stranger introduced himself as the Duke of Manchester, named Antonio who happened to know of us because of our success in finding the lost diamonds and pearls. He said we could call him Tony. He was a very conversational bloke.
“So, now tell us, what is wrong?” I asked being as polite as one could be.
“My friend has died of cancer, then his heir, who is an orphan aged eleven, put his money in a trust now it has been stolen, oh what shall I do now?”
Just then, Greg slapped Tony then me. “Hey, what was that for?” I asked, I was furious to know why he had slapped me. He muttered his answer in a low tone with an Australian accent and an unimpressed demeanour: “Put a sock in it! I felt like it.”
That man is a truly brilliant detective, however, he’s absolutely nuts.
“Greg, hate to be mean mate, but however good you are at detective work, you have the maze,” I answered in an angry tone. “The maze, old country way of saying madness intresting, eh, well you could put it that way,” replied Greg dreamily, his eyes going cross-eyed.
Once we arrived Greg licked his finger, put it in the air and said, “Someone has died here.”
The duke said: “Correct as always.” We then entered a wooden shack which looked like it could drop at any second. We followed Greg into the shack and stayed quite still, with horror in our eyes. A dead man was sitting in a recliner with his hands cuffed to the armrests. Greg went over to the fire, which was illuminating the room and the smoke going out of a hole that was in the roof. The room was blazing so much I was almost burnt and the corpse stunk of things that really shouldn’t be talked about. Greg looked into the fire and cried: “Look! Ashes of an embroidered bag which has the initials M.A.D. Mason Adam Daggers if I am not mistaken.”
“Correct again,” replied the Duke like he had heard enough of Greg’s cleverness. Treacle dripped down all the walls which meant no leaning on the walls for all of us which was annoying. On the ceiling two big perpendicular lines were drawn in white chalk and which was just visible because of the ceiling being a more creamy white then the chalk.
“Charcoal not chalk, this ain`t good, RUN!”cried Greg in a weird Cockney/Polish accent. We all obeyed immediately with no complaints which felt weird. In five seconds of being outside the shack collapsed. “Aieeee…!” cried the Duke. It was a death trap!
Suddenly, slap, slap. “Again, really!” I screamed furiously. Then I must’ve passed out because I woke up in hospital. “What happened?” I asked wearily. “You passed out,” replied Greg, who was standing with his wife who had blonde hair, was very slim, had three piercings on the ears and one on the nose and a tattoo of an elephant on her neck. She wore many rings on her fingers and toes, flip-flops on her feet, designer jeans or jeggings (I couldn’t tell), a necklace with a skull on it and a rather open top with a cardigan over it.
Just then, Tony, the duke who was covered in scarlet-coloured goo which stank of urine, entered the room. “Have a shower dude, you stink, yuck man!” cried Greg holding his nose up then letting it go and continuing smooching his tomboyish wife. About half an hour later Tony came in, with new clothes on and he had obviously had a couple of showers and baths because he smelt of soap and shower gel.
“Here’s what happened when you left us,” Antonio told me. “You were slapped by a piece of wood. It fell on you. Then Greg and I followed traces of a mongrel which happened to be right next to you. So, we put together a kind of bed for you which we then laid you on. The bed was made of wood, it must have been very uncomfortable for you, however we knew that we had to follow these paw prints or we would lose the person who did this to you.
“Gregory’s wife, Amy, then arrived on the dot to pick you up and bring you to hospital. So while you were going to hospital Greg and I followed the paw prints into a piñata factory. Then the paw prints turned into footprints. We followed them to the owner’s office. We knocked on the door and went in. The owner was dressed in a cocktail dress! He also had a moustache and a beard. His beard had been combed into three sections. He looked quite queer. He spoke to us in a high-pitched voice, which was even stranger than his appearance. He told us his name which was Oscar Riberro and that he rode his biggest horse piñata to see what had happened. Gregory and I asked what he meant by ‘rode his piñata’ He said he put wheels on it.
“Gregory knew the fellow, from university where they did their degrees in Clown College which was a new college which was built in England but they spoke Dutch there.
Gregory invited this rather queer man to our little group. He said that he might have to go and change his clothes because they were unsuitable for public consumption. After he had changed into a tennis top, kilt and an exact replica of Peter Pan’s hat which was used in the play of Peter Pan plus the highest pair of high heels I had ever seen then he said he could go out on a runway and show off his moves. We looked everywhere but found nothing.”
There was silence after that except the kissing noises made by the love birds in the corner of my eye. Just then, Oscar came and bellowed in a high pitched voice, “My dear friend how nice to meet yo…”
A man had jumped out of nowhere with a machete in his hand and a gun in his other and shouted “Nobody gets hurt if you hand over the girl, if you don’t the man under my arm and the rest of you get killed!” Then Greg’s wife went over to the man was cuffed and taken away.
“No! Come back, take me instead!!” screamed Greg in despair.