Free 04 - Carnival of Criminals by Evelyn James

in
person.”
    “That you might, but this is how we do things around
here.”
    Clara caught herself before she lost her temper. Since
her first introduction to the world of Brighton crime, her bane had been the
paperwork-obsessed police who barred her way at every turn. Despite proving to
them on at least two occasions that she was not an idle gossip or busybody,
they still caused her all manner of bother whenever she tried to report a
crime.
    “This won’t do sergeant. I must speak to the inspector.”
    “Name?” The sergeant licked his pencil and hovered it
over the form.
    “Clara Fitzgerald.”
    “Named of deceased, if known?”
    “Mervin Grimes, look sergeant…”
    “Reason for believing the victim to have died under
suspicious circumstances?”
    Clara gave a sigh.
    “He has a bullet wound in his chest.”
    The sergeant gave her an odd look.
    “And where did you see this body?”
    “Last time I checked he was on my dining room table.”
Clara was pleased to see a spasm of shock cross the desk sergeant’s face, “Oh,
and he was mummified. Do you have a section on your form for that?”
    The desk sergeant put down his pencil.
    “I think you ought to see the inspector?”
    “Really?” Clara beamed her brightest smile, “Because
there is clearly more form to fill in as yet.”
    The desk sergeant rang a bell on his desk and a constable
appeared from a back room.
    “Take this lady to inspector Park-Coombs office.” He
ordered, “But don’t let her out of your sight.”
    “Thank you sergeant.” Clara said as she went to follow
the constable.
    The desk sergeant gave another huff, then started ripping
up his defaced suspicious deaths form.
    “Mummified indeed!” He puttered.
    Inspector Park-Coombs had just refilled his teacup and
was inspecting the tin in his top desk drawer for biscuits when the constable
tapped on his door and presented Clara. Park-Coombs gave a sigh and shut the
drawer.
    “Miss Fitzgerald, did you have a good holiday?”
    “Mostly, aside from the murder.”
    “Yes, I heard about that. Rather attract them, don’t
you?”
    Clara gave him an offended look.
    “Just don’t take a holiday around May time in Blackpool,
that’s when me and the missus like to go there. I would rather not have a
murder to solve when I am trying to relax.”
    “I don’t go looking for murders, you know.” Clara said,
taking the chair in front of Park-Coombs’ desk even though he had failed to
offer it.
    “Certainly not, they just seem to have a knack of finding
you. Anyway, what is this all about?”
    “I am quite hurt inspector, I might almost consider not
telling you what I came here for.”
    “Then again…” The inspector took a sip of tea.
    Clara, who was neither hurt nor offended, knew not to
take the inspector too seriously. She rested her elbows on the desk and gave him
a grin.
    “You already know about this one.”
    “Do I?”
    “Yes, because Oliver Bankes reported it, but there was
not enough evidence for the police to do anything.”
    The inspector gave this some thought.
    “I don’t recall Mr Bankes reporting a crime.”
    “It probably went through that desk sergeant downstairs.”
Clara pulled a face, “He still thinks I am a nuisance.”
    Park-Coombs raised his eyebrows, as if to imply he wasn’t
too sure he didn’t agree with the desk sergeant on that. Clara wisely chose to
ignore him.
    “I have a mummified corpse lying on my dining room table
at home.”
    “Really?”
    “Really.” Clara carried on before the inspector was
distracted too much by that thought, “His name was Mervin Grimes. He died
around fifteen years ago and somehow his body became mummified. This is where
things get puzzling. His mummified corpse ended up in a fairground attraction
called the House of Curios, where Oliver spotted him.”
    Inspector Park-Coombs stretched backwards in his chair,
his face a contortion of confusion.
    “We are sure this is a real body?”
    “Yes.”
    “The real body of