The Mystery of the Mysterious Mystery by Robert Rowling

(that’s my new pen-name – cool, eh? Of course I could have gone for JK Galbraith…)

Acknowledgements: I’d like to thank my mother, father, cats, Thorntons, fellow bloggers and most of all, Pie Corbett and his book, Write Your Own Mystery, for making this possible…

Chapter 1

If they’d gone to the South of France, the sun would have been shining and they’d have been on the beach swimming. Instead, here they were on Mysterious Moor in the North of Scotland, shivering and huddled inside the tent while the wind howled round and the rain poured down like lashings of ginger beer. Whose idea was this Blogging Camp anyway?

Stacia had her nose buried in some Scandinavian crime novel – no doubt reading about all that snow and angst made her feel relatively warm and cheery. Jilanne wandered aimlessly round the tent peering and poking into everyone else’s book collections. Lady Fancifull was chattering under her breath to faerie folk that only she could see, her expression vacant as she gazed out at what she liked to refer to as the ‘pretty little sheepikins’. (She’d forgotten to pack her medication again.) BigSister was demonstrating against the weather, dangerously swinging a placard reading, somewhat redundantly, ‘Down With Rain’ while haranguing the others to sign her petition. Paula was dancing her happy dance, while gazing at the picture of Darcy that travelled with her everywhere.

chocolate3

Meantime, FictionFan played idly with her gorgeous, naturally blonde, waist length, thick, naturally curly hair, crossing one beautifully slim and perfectly shaped leg over the other equally stunning one. She sighed a perfectly modulated sigh and, in musical tones that sounded like angels’ bells ringing softly from on high, said ‘Chocolate, anyone?’

Suddenly all heads were raised, as everyone (except FF obviously) grunted greedily and snuffled their little snouts in the air. FF graciously smiled one of those smiles that gladdens the hearts of all who behold it, and reached her finely shaped hand (which was at the end of her perfectly toned, tanned arm) into the bag in which the chocolate hoard was kept.

But, horror of horrors! The bag was empty!!!

End of Chapter 1

chocolate2

Chapter 2

Detective Chief Superintendent McKinberg of the Wayup North Constabulary was noted for her fine intuition, her appreciation of the finer points of a good Chardonnay, her Olympic career as a caber-tosser but, most of all, for her subtle interrogation technique. On arrival at the campsite she ordered Sergeant McProfessor to ensure that no-one entered or left without her say-so.

Sergeant McProfessor growled ferociously “Dinnae ye fret, hen. Ye ken fine an’ weel that nae’b’dy’ll be getting’ by me and Wee Boab!” DCS McKinberg nodded sagely, just as if she’d understood him. Bob the Cat growled, ferociously.

As DCS McKinberg entered the tent, she sniffed suspiciously. “What’s that smell?” she demanded.

“Since there was no chocolate and we were hungry, I cooked some red herrings,” replied BigSister.

DCS McKinberg’s eyes narrowed. “There’s something fishy about this,” she thought.

At that moment, LF floated past wearing what looked remarkably like a Laura Ashley dress from the Swinging 60s, wafting joss sticks while chanting her mantra. “Yummmmmmm!” she chanted, “Yum-Yummmmmmmmmm!”

DCS McKinberg’s eyes narrowed even further. Then she realised she could no longer see, so widened them again, startling LF quite considerably.

Chocolate

“Right, you lot, pay attention!” shouted the wide-eyed DCS McKinberg. “I will now subtly interrogate you one by one. BigSister, did you steal the chocolate?’”

“No, I did not. I was in the middle of organising a protest march against the rain at the time. Has this tent turned into a police state?” replied BigSister, alarmingly waving a placard that read, somewhat ironically, ‘Down with Big Brother!’

“Hmm! Jilanne, did you steal the chocolate?”

“Sadly, no. After what happened last year at Squaw Valley, they wouldn’t tell me where it was hidden, the rotters! I was searching for it in other people’s book piles at the time.”

“Hmm! Stacia, did you steal the chocolate?”

Stacia looked blankly up from her book “What chocolate? Do you mind? The fifth murder is just about to happen and the detective’s drunk again – please don’t disturb me!”

“Hmm! Paula, did you steal the chocolate?”

“Not me! Not me! I’m as innocent as a bee! I don’t need chocolate while I have Darcy!” sang Paula, happily dancing and gazing adoringly at a photo of a wet shirt.

“Hmm! Well, I certainly won’t be interrogating you, FF, because it’s clear that someone as refined, sensitive and cultured as you would never stoop so low.”

FF smiled adorably, and flicked her stunningly gorgeous hair back from her flawless, alabaster brow.

DCS McKinberg turned her basilisk eye towards the last suspect…

“LF, did you steal the chocolate?”

“Yummmmmmm! Yummmmmmmm!” chanted LF, desperately.

“Hold out your hands, LF. Sergeant McProfessor, cuff her!”

“Och, aye, hen. C’mere, ye wee sleekit, cow’ring tim’rous beastie…,” said Sergeant McProfessor, cryptically.

Everyone gasped in amazement! LF mumbled brokenly “How did you know it was mmmmmmmmmm-me?”

Bob, the specially trained Chocolate-Sniffer-Cat, leered evilly as he pulled empty chocolate wrappers from LF’s carefully colour co-ordinated handbag…

The End

(I was going to apologise to the people I left out but, on maturer consideration, apologies to those I put in!)

37 thoughts on “The Mystery of the Mysterious Mystery by Robert Rowling

  1. I have truly perfected the narrow-eyed look – how did you know that!?!? And just who organised it that all of those particular people should be brought together at this same place? Your perfect hair isn’t going to save you, you know.. 😉

    Seriously, this is a great story! I loved it! And I’m honoured to have been included in it.

  2. 😆 😆 This is unbelievable! I couldn’t stop laughing. Goodness! Gramercy! Och! Chickit! Dadblameit!

    The story is amazing, especially FF’s part. Should we trust that description? 😀

    I can’t believe I’ve starred in a mystery! And do you see how good my Scottish is?!

    The tags are fabulous.

    But, seriously now, you’re not a Jo-gasp-Rowling fan are you?

    😆

  3. Oh that monstrous FF……………I think it’s time she realised that the faery folk are probably goblines and ghoils. I’m working on my best spell, where you turn your Scottish friends into toads and send them to a place where no prince will come a-calling

    Fishes out spell book:
    Grumble rubble. soil and stubble
    By the snicking of my gums
    Rumbling pigherds eat her thumbs

    Good heavens – what a strange rhyme………it seems faintly familiar……..could it be, could it possibly be I’ve started to channel a rather well known Elizabethan and Jacobean playwright? I think he said his name is Billygum Snakespurr. That’s what it sounds like anyway. Odd name. Perhaps i should go and get my hearing tested after all

  4. LOL! Fresh back from Squaw Valley Writers Workshop, I feel the need to critique this manuscript:
    1) First, why is this story being told right now? Because the chocolate has gone missing? Because these poor bloggers are stepping on each other inside the same tent?
    2) Does this reader get a strong sense of place? I don’t know about you, but I started shivering the minute the moors and lashings of ginger beer were mentioned, so this aspect feels successful.
    3) What do I feel for the protagonist? For the perpetrator(s)? The missing chocolate touched me to the depths of my soul (oh, woe!!), and I feel great animosity toward anyone who hoards and eats all the chocolate.
    4) What’s at stake here? Only the most precious of all commodities and the gastronomical fates of all those poor creatures stuck in that tent!
    5) And while we’re on the topic of tents, this one feels very spacious, what with libraries, placards, and Rapunzel-length hair and all. I don’t know about you, but this reader has never been inside a tent that allows for more than a sleeping bag and toothbrush. Perhaps readers need a more precise description of the interior space?
    6) Love the rising action (do I smell chocolate??) and associated tension (What chocolate??)
    7) Love the keen eye and use of olfactory senses, the astute and crisp dialogue, and all the finely wrought characters, especially the use of dialect. Besides, any manuscript that contains the word, Chardonnay, has to be spot on.
    8) What would make the ending better for me would be a quick keel-hauling (someone find a boat!) of that dastardly LF!!

    A very successful first draft!! Cheers!
    😮

    • Thank you so much for this fair and honest critique, Jilanne!

      I’m so glad you liked the characterisation – personally, I thought FF came over as the most believable – a charming, likeable – nay, loveable – protagonist. The rest seemed like a pretty sinister, suspicious bunch to me…

      I take your criticism on board re the tent – I should, of course, have mentioned that it was hired from the Dr McWho company’s Tardis range.

      I wholeheartedly agree with the keel-hauling LF idea (she is dastardly, isn’t she?) and with your permission will add it to the next draft which, contrary to your belief, was not the first – but the 445th…

      • No, no, you’re mistaken. Bob came across the best. Then the professor. Of course, the professor had trouble speaking, but we must forgive you.

        Why didn’t you mention that FF had a moustache? (In pretty good shape for being born in 40’s!)

        • I thought it was better to have you speak In Scots, since that would be more comprehensible than your usual… 😉

          For the purposes of this story, assume that FF waxed.

          And if you accuse me of having been born in the 40s again, I’ll……well, I’ll……well, let’s just say it won’t be pretty… 👿

  5. Great story. We are going to purchase “Write Your Own … Mystery” for our granddaughter and give it to her for her birthday. Hopefully we will be reading stories as well crafted as this one, just days after her birthday.

    • Haha! I’m glad you enjoyed it!

      I hope your granddaughter gets as much fun out of the book as I did – I really think it’s something I’d have loved to have when I was a child. It’s full of good information told in a fun way and there’s some websites at the end where apparently your granddaughter would be able to ‘publish’ her story.

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