After the meeting in the shed I was ordered to go home and start prepping. Wasn't exactly sure for what but still it was a chance to grab some extra sleep. The next morning I was rudely awoken by the alarm and after a sluggish walk down the stairs discovered Mr Kiln once again drinking a cup of tea in our kitchen. Without a moments hesitation he spoke, authoritatively.
"There is a meeting being held in the pub at 11am. All the village is invited. Make sure you are there and ready to start investigating. Some new evidence has come to light but I now feel the rest of the village should know. It's far worse than we first feared". And with that he was gone. I looked at Mother, who just shrugged her shoulders and went about her business. Must be serious I thought, and with that attacked my scrambled eggs with renewed velour.
At The Swan
I arrived at the pub to find everyone already there; and in rather good spirits. Having it seemed, all been given free beer! A table was positioned in the centre which behind stood PC Bob Pig, Mr Kiln and the tramp Mr Partridge, clearly Mr Kilns new henchman. Whatever he was he still stank. A hush suddenly befell the room and Mr Kiln spoke, after clearing his throat and blowing his nose, rather loudly for many in the room.
"Ladies, Gents and others (looking at Mr Partridge, who had taken to eating some pork scratchings). Early this morning I found a note in my office". I could hear people mumbling, saying they thought his office was a shed. "All it states is that they have all the fetes stalls and its signed by someone called The Yellow Fingernail". Gasps filled the room, people took a swig of their beer. Mrs Bentley fainted, hitting a table as she did, spilling Mr Johnsons beer, who then accused Mr Kiln for the spillage. Others disagreed and a scuffle ensued. Meanwhile Mrs Bentley awoke to a battle royal between a number of key figures. Fearing she would be blamed she felt it better to pretend being unconscious, that way avoiding any further accusation. After what seemed an age the fighting stopped, probably because Mr Partridge had decided to join in. He really did stink. Mr Kiln continued "Mr Wilson over there", pointing to me, "is going to investigate this most heinous of crimes and shall try to retrieve our stalls and capture this criminal. The fete will go ahead".
Cheers rang around the pub and with that there was a further rush for the bar. Meanwhile Mr Kiln handed me an envelope and shoved me out of the pub.
"Go and restore honour to our village Wilson."
And with that he went back in to have another beer. I opened the scruffy envelope and read the message.
"Go and restore honour to our village Wilson."
And with that he went back in to have another beer. I opened the scruffy envelope and read the message.
So Leyhill had finally given me the chance to prove myself. With a little skip of delight I headed for home, pulled out my dusty detecting blue coat and went out to my 50cc scooter. So they were headed for Hemel. I'd never been there (which wasn't necessarily a bad thing). It was one of those new towns, all modern buildings and no heart. I kick started my scooter and headed off towards this new town, which wasn't very quickly as the 50cc engine wasn't the most powerful. I'd probably get there quicker by walking. I passed the pub again, as it was on route. A small crowd had gathered and were waving me on my journey. It almost felt like they couldn't wait for me to leave! Putting this thought to the back of my mind I crawled away from the pub and so started my pursuit of the Yellow Fingernail.
Coming soon: Part 4 - Lost in Translation.