The Mysterious Merlin Tyana

By CD Moulton

Merlin Tyana is a mysterious man who appears, always during a thunderstorm, to solve or prevent murders. Written in the English style of the 50s and 60s A series of short stories. All the stories from Enter Merlin Tyana and Mirrors

• Language: English
• Publisher: CD Moulton
• Release date: Jun 24, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311578006

CD Moulton

Born in Florida, travelled the world as a rock guitarist with some big names in the late sixties, early seventies. Been everything from a high steel worker to longshoreman, from musician to bar owner, and much more. Educated in botany and genetics. Now living in paradise (Panamá!)

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Chadam Books

The Mysterious Merlin Tyana

The two Merlin Tyana books as one

© 2015 by C. D. Moulton

all rights reserved: no part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright holder/publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

These are works of fiction- Any resemblances to actual persons or events is purely coincidental

Introducing Merlin Tyana, a mysterious figure who appears, always during a storm, when a murder can be prevented or solved. He then seems to disappear.

Contents:

From Enter Merlin Tyana

Foreword

1 Enter Merlin Tyana

2 Rainy Day People

3 Small Town Intrigue

4 Details

5 Call Girls In Peril

6 House Party

7 The Spoiled Brat

8 Just AWFUL

9 The Great Escape

10 Where There's A Will

11 It Was A Dark and Stormy Night

12 Hate

13 Assumptions

14 Reunion

15 Weekend

16 Herbs

17 Trash – White Trash

18 Time Enough For Murder

19 The Body In the Moat

20 Too Good A Friend

21 The Decision

From Mirrors

22 Mirrors

23 Final Tour

24 Pictures

25 Well, Well.

26 Rest Stop

27 But Then...

28 Smoke

About the Author

CD Moulton has traveled extensively over much of the world both in the music business, where he was a rock guitarist, songwriter, and arranger, and in an import/export business. He has been everything from a bar owner to auto salvage (junkyard) manager, longshoreman to high steel worker, orchid grower to landscaper, tropical fish farmer to commercial fisherman. He started writing books in 1983 and has published more than 175 books as of January 1, 2013. His most popular books to date are about research with orchids, though much of his science fiction and fantasy work has proven popular. He wrote the CD Grimes, PI series and the Det. Nick Storie series, among other works.

He now resides in Gualaca, Panamá, where he writes the Clint Faraday mystery series, plays music with friends – and pursues his favorite ways to spend his time: beach bum and roaming the mountain jungles doing botanical research. He has lately become involved in fighting for the rights of the indigenous people, who are among he closest friends, and in fighting the extreme corruption in the courts and police in Panamá.

He offers the free e-book, Fading Paradise, that explains what he has been through because of the corruption.

Author's Foreword

I have always enjoyed the old English mysteries and the way most descriptions and events were presented. I have never liked the modern gore and bedroom stories that seem to lack a plot or plan. They always appear (to me, at least) to be pointless.

I also like the idea of a mysterious hero who appears when there is a murder or other crime, who uses the knowledge of the characters involved to lead THEM to a solution, then fades into the sunset.

These stories combine the two ideas.

Merlin Tyana uses the names of two famous historical/mythical sorcerers/sages, Merlin of King Arthur's Court fame and Apollonius of Tyana.

Most people know about Merlin, but not a great many know of Apollonius of Tyana. Merlin appears in fictional works only while Apollonius appears in ancient court writings as well as in other historical writings.

I will leave it to the reader who cares to research either or both of those legends. They are important here only in that the names were used in deriving that of my hero.

One of the included stories (not the first one) is based on a personal experience where simply looking at what several people knew about a case ended me up with the solution – and it was a solution the police had entirely overlooked.

I hope you enjoy these. If enough do I will write more.

C. D. Moulton

Bonita Springs FL

November, 1999

Enter Merlin Tyana

The world is, I'm afraid, a far different place today, more's the pity, Lord Sutton pronounced.

He pronounced everything.

We all change, Henry, that is life, his wife, Lady Thelma, chided.

Ah, but is it we or the world? Which changes and which merely ... here I go again! Know what I want to say, can't say it! Lord Walter Chalmers interjected with his normal wave of a hand to finish a sentence.

A faint, high bell sounded just at the edge of audibility over the raging thunderstorm outside. The four people then occupying the large room paused.

Well! It is rather late for visitors, Lady Irene sniffed.

If it will break the blasted monotony of all this, all this never-ending ... you know what I mean! Lord Chalmers, who never quite finished a thought, said.

Ahem! Sir Merlin Tyana, Littles, the butler, announced. The gentleman seeks refuge from the storm. His vehicle has failed him just by the gates. He presented a calling card with gold letters on a red background.

Merlin? Rather odd name, don't you...? Lord Chalmers stated.

Show the gentleman in, of course, Lady Irene ordered.

Hmmpf! Merlin what? Tyana? Not English – well, Merlin is, Lord Sutter groused. Maybe one of those Greeks?

Watersham Under Makebridge? Never heard of it! Must be one of those odd places..., Lord Chalmers added. I hope he's not....

Sir Merlin Tyana. Littles announced as a tall, dark, well proportioned, rather handsome man came into the room, took his dripping hat and umbrella and silently departed, quietly closing the massive carved mahogany doors behind him.

Bloody unpleasant night, what? Lord Sutton greeted. You could use a brandy. He didn't await a reply, but poured a generous dollop into a large snifter and handed it to Sir Merlin.

I'm called Henry. That's the better half, Lady Thelma. Walter Chalmers and his better half, Lady Irene.

Sir Merlin observed the group with strange almost glowing dark eyes. There was something indistinct about his features, yet there was also a strong magnetism about him. He slightly bowed acknowledgment of each introduction.

Merlin Tyana? Unusual sort of name, what? Lord Chalmers suggested.

It is an ancient family name, dating back to around seven hundred years BC, Sir Merlin replied. "I doubt family names were used before that.

"I enjoy storms. There is an excitement about them and they leave a cleanness in their passing.

I noted these lights, thus engendering hope my presence would not unduly inconvenience the household. There is a black wreath by the gate. I hope I don't intrude into a period of mourning.

The thing should have been removed for a fortnight! Lady Irene protested. "I ordered that it be taken down!

We are beyond the initial shock of the death of our eldest daughter, Sir Merlin. She passed away two months ago on a night much like this, which is why we sit here at this hour. We are just now becoming able to talk and think of our Margaret without such intense pain. It is difficult to remember the good things on such a night and sleep would not come, I believe, for any of us.

If I do not intrude, perhaps you could tell me about her? About the good things? Sir Merlin suggested.

Sir Merlin, it soon appeared, was going to be one of those strange strangers people will find simpatico with and will share their joys and sorrows without reservations. What one calls a good listener.

Er, hmmpfth, yes, Lord Sutton replied. She was a lovely creature, much like Thelma here. Not much of me in her, to her great advantage, I'm sure. Lovely and talented. Sang like a nightingale, danced like a fawn, very popular and athletic. A master pianist. Whiz at tennis and could swim like a ... not like a fish. Like there was joy in it.

Like an otter, Lord Chalmers interrupted. They play all the time, you see, and she was playful and quite smart and was, er, well....

She was murdered, you know, Lady Thelma confided. "The local police (she shuddered at the remembrance of all those ... persons traipsing through the house) said it was probably a rare type of accident or, just possibly, the act of some transient maniac. There are a lot of them about today.

It wasn't here. It was at one of those places where all those druggie thugs and punkie youths congregate – 'Hang out,' they call it. Purely ridiculous pursuits for all those unsavory types. We were discussing how much the world has changed. Such things were very rare only a few years ago.

People change. The world goes on the way..., Lord Chalmers protested. Always for the worse. Always downward. Good things become less....

Yes. It often seems so, Sir Merlin agreed. "I imagine nothing really changes. People remain people and the world spins along, uncaring in its orbit.

Tell me about it. What happened?

Hmmpfth! Lord Sutton pointed out. We'd taken dinner and were relaxing in the game room. Us. The people here right now, you see. The children – we call them children, even though the youngest is twenty six – and their friends and spouses were going to motor into Forsham to try a new club there. That rock and roll noise – well, I suppose our parents thought our swing and jazz was noise – you know.

There were two carloads, you see, Lady Thelma continued. Margaret and her latest beau – Alfred, wasn't it? Or Allan? Albert? Alwin? – anyway, they and Francine, her younger sister, and her husband – Francine's – Nigel, were in the one car and Frederick – that's Walter's only son – and his wife, Harrietta – Harrietta Nesmith-Ashton, terrible name, that, but she's a simply wonderful girl – and a Gloria Somebody – very common sort, really, and Jillian, Walter's daughter, were in the other. They were to call at Anson's – that's the, what do they call them? Youth hostels? – where they stay, you see, when their own parents have absolutely abnegated their responsibilities for the children they bring into the world. Shocking! To join with another car or two. All jivers and ... those low types. Druggies I wouldn't for one second doubt GLORIA'S friends, I also wouldn't doubt. Her and her DEAR Nigel. Members of one of those perfectly awful clubs of some sort that swear allegiance to each other against the legitimate government or some such silliness.

Everyone seemed to follow her. Only Sir Merlin seemed at all confused, but he let it pass.

Nigel! Lady Irene spat.

Now, dear, Walter warned.

Nigel isn't, well, SUITED, if you understand what I mean, Lady Thelma explained. He's a type that today’s young girls seem always to find fascinating. Hair scraggly, clothes absolutely disgraceful – like a strutting peacock. Always has some scheme to make a lot of money, but preaches against anyone who has any. We have to bail them out, but ... that's dirty laundry. I feel you're a mite too easy to confide in, Sir Merlin. I do hope you're ... discreet?

Sir Merlin bowed his head slightly, somehow reassuring them that anything said stopped right there, as to his part. It helps one to understand if insight into the various personalities is supplied. We may pretend this is but a mythical exercise. Merely a 'What if?' situation.

That satisfied everyone. No one wondered that it made no sense, whatever. What if? what?

Nigel and Gloria would be far more suitable a pair than ... well, Lady Thelma went on. "They would be acceptable in their own ... strata, as it were ... of society.

"One bears one's burdens with whatever small grace one can muster. Those punkies will swear to help one another to the total exclusion of all others, but get into difficulties and they run to their sworn mortal enemies, us, to get them out again! Purely disgraceful! If not for the fact Francine is our daughter the bunch of them could go begging!

"Gloria is the one who always suggests those horrible punk clubs – or whatever they're calling them nowadays – and those awful clothes. And those noisy motorbikes. And those dangerous fast boats and sports cars.

No sense of responsibility. That's the whole trouble with today's youth.

We have to take some responsibility for that, Lord Sutton argued. WE raised them that way!

WE did not! Our children are all well-behaved and cared about and it shows in them! Thelma shot back. Now THEIR parents I can't say the same!

We are off the track, I think? Sir Merlin said.

Hell’s acre, man! You said you wanted to know about all those odd personalities! Lord Sutton cried.

THEIRS, yes, Sir Merlin replied. You can't let go of your grief if you start recriminations against persons who are not involved or against one another. IT ... WAS ... NOT ... YOUR ... FAULT!

They all looked shocked.

I ... you have hit ... you are quite correct, Sir Chalmers said, ashamedly. I do think we were, in a way, blaming ourselves for something we had no....

Exactly! Sir Merlin responded. Please tell me only what happened and what will be the result.

The result? Lady Irene asked suspiciously. I think you agree with me – a minority of one – that it was NOT simply some transient or an accident?

Such things seldom are, Sir Merlin agreed. We COULD BE a minority of TWO, should I know the facts.

Er, harumph! Sir Sutton replied, wisely.

Who the hell are you? Why are you after...? Lord Chalmers demanded.

Walter, he is rather obviously an investigator. The police obviously do NOT really believe it was a random act, Lady Irene replied. Sir Merlin, if that's your true name, ask us questions and I, for one, will hold back nothing!

How much money is to go to your daughters and when? Sir Merlin requested.

Er, well, really! See here! Lord Sutton cried.

There is a secured trust fund that our daughters receive full principle on their twenty eighth birthdays of one million pounds apiece, Lady Thelma answered. Francine will get two million, as Margaret is deceased. They receive our half of the estate and accounts at our deaths.

And Margaret's age at her death?

She would become twenty eight on the ninth of May. Three weeks, Lady Irene said. It is what awakened my suspicions.

What is the relationship between this Gloria and Nigel? Sir Merlin inquired. Your personal suspicions.

Far too close, if you ask me! Lady Thelma replied.

Now, the details of the death?

Ahha! We agree! Lady Irene cried. "It was called a simple accident. They were at a dance club, they had a bit too much to drink, Margaret went outside, alone, slipped on the steps – it was storming, you know – and struck her head on the corner of the balustrade, then fell into the pool and drowned.

In the first place, Margaret did NOT drink more than a single very weak cocktail. She was in athletics, and they simply don't mix. Smoking or drinking – one DOESN'T, you see, and Margaret more than most. She was murdered for the money! Mark my words!

But no one GETS her money, except Francine, and she gets a million without Margaret's lot, for pity's sake! Lord Sutton cried. You can't possibly suspect that Francine would kill her sister! That is ridiculous!

And THAT becomes my problem, Lady Irene agreed. "Francine and Margaret were very close, and Francine is terribly broken up about it.

Nigel and Gloria and their punkie friends act like they're concerned, but fatalistic. They are not sincere people. Not in the least.

Sir Merlin nodded understandingly.

It would be obvious that, seeing as the money is still not available under any circumstances to anyone except Francine, and she certainly has no need of it, being..., Lord Chalmers began, then shifted to, There is no motive, as you see, so a transient is all ... and there it is.

IS the money not available to anyone else? Sir Merlin asked, studying each in turn.

Well, most certainly not! Lady Thelma cried. It goes to Francine and not for almost two more years, at that!

Her stipend from the trust will double, but she already has more than she can ever reasonably spend, Lord Sutton declared. There, as Walter noted, it is!

So we solve nothing, Lady Irene said bitterly. A killer has hidden his tracks very well, it would seem.

Perhaps not, Sir Merlin replied. You must step away to see the whole picture. From being too close, you see only bits and pieces.

Er, mmmpht, Lord Sutton noted. It is quite possible, I suppose, but what have we missed? What have you seen?

Me? Nothing, Sir Merlin replied. I know nothing about it, except what you have told me tonight, and you have told me what happened and why. You simply have not seen the pieces as they connect together.

Connect a few dots – if they're there to be connected, and we can carry on from there to..., Lord Chalmers said.

The money, despite what you wish to think, might have a great significance, Sir Merlin replied. I find that money is a great motivator to certain types. Types you have described here.

NOT to FRANCINE, Lady Thelma defended hotly. The very idea! It's obscene! She doesn't need or want it!

Yet you have had to bail her out several times because she did NOT have what she needed? Sir Merlin inquired. Exactly where was Nigel when Margaret died?

Great lord! Lady Irene cried. "Of course! FRANCINE has no financial problems, but her DEAR husband DOES! – And HE gets it through Francine!

Nigel was with Francine every minute, though, so he didn't do it, but his punkie friends might have. We DID tell you they will do anything for each other, by sworn oath!

But Margaret would never have gone outside with any of that crowd, Lady Thelma said. She had often told me some of them scared her. She simply would never be alone with any of them for any reason. Only Nigel or Gloria, who she knew.

Where, then, was Gloria? Lord Chalmers mused, finishing an entire question for once. Who was it who told us she was with ... and who said not?

Gloria was there at the table with Nigel and Francine, Lady Thelma replied. She was there the whole time except for perhaps five minutes, when she went to the powder room.

She went alone? Sir Merlin asked.

I see! It was GLORIA who killed Margaret! Lady Irene cried, triumphantly. You, Sir Merlin, are a genius! I think we can prove it. If we know what happened, we can force the issue with the police.

Don't be silly, dear, Lord Chalmers chided. "Why would they listen to us, simply because....

We have no motive or....

The motive is the money and she lied when she told them she didn't leave the table – and we can prove she didn't go to the powder room! She told them she DID! Lady Irene insisted.

HOW on Earth can we ever prove any such thing?! Lady Thelma demanded.

My dear, she didn't take Francine with her! Lord Sutton declared. "When we are at a function, you would not think of going to the powder room without Irene, and she would never go without you. Francine would always go with Margaret or with you. She would insist Gloria have company in such a place as that ... place.

Women always do that, you know. Men would be, er, embarrassed if another man wanted to go with them, but women almost insist! I've seen it a million times!

I don't know. That's true enough, Lady Thelma said. I think we have to accept that it was a scheme that Nigel was part of and that will not do the family name any good if it comes out! We must consider that!

What would you propose, then? Lord Sutton demanded, giving her a strange sharp look. That your own daughter's husband not be prosecuted for being a large part of the murder of your other daughter? Isn't that taking snobbery to rather an extreme?

No! Certainly not! I didn't mean any such thing! she cried. We must handle it with discretion. It was GLORIA who killed her and that must be avenged. A quiet divorce of Nigel in exchange for his not being prosecuted and he must leave England. He was not a direct part of it. I can't believe that. He wouldn't!

You might consider one thing, Madam! Sir Merlin snapped. "The death of Margaret will accomplish nothing for him OR for Gloria. The scheme most necessarily includes the death of Francine as soon as she inherits the principle of that trust fund. Nigel must as necessarily have been part of the entire scheme, probably the inventor of that scheme.

"I know what family name means. Mine is far older and more established than is yours, but it would never occur to me to try to protect the family name if a child of mine was threatened, much less killed.

"As you say, the facts fit only one way, and you can bring proof – but your son-in-law cannot be saved. Do not act and your remaining daughter will very certainly next be the victim of an 'unfortunate accident'.

I see the storm is lessening. I will be able to restart my vehicle, I'm sure. I thank you for your kind hospitality. Perhaps the favor may one day be returned.

He bowed slightly and moved to the door.

Wait! What shall we do?" Lady Thelma cried.

I have merely helped show you the path to the solution of a puzzle, the proper way to place together the pieces you’ve held all along, Sir Merlin replied. Whether or not you show the finished work to anyone else is your decision alone. There are dire consequences, either way. You must decide for yourselves the more important path to follow.

He stepped out of the room and closed the door, took his hat and umbrella from the hall rack and disappeared into the night as Lord Sutton was searching for the card Littles had presented. He was positive he'd placed it right there on the table with his brandy, but it was gone.

Rainy Day People

I don't believe it! Millie O'Casey declared hotly. No sweet girl like Miss Ames killed herself! Mark my words!

Now, Millie, Lady Holbrook soothed. "The police have made, I am sure, a very thorough investigation, and they say there is no evidence of foul play. None whatever. Clarice had some kind of terrible shock or perhaps a momentary mental instability and life suddenly seemed too great a burden to bear anymore. It is a sad, but far too oft repeated, I fear, circumstance.

"Don't dote upon it. We all grieve for her, but life must go on for the living.

There is little to be done here today. You may take the rest of the day off, with pay of course, and can spend the time in reflecting upon the good things in life. I'm sure Clarice would want it that way.

Yes'm. Thank you, Mum, Millie replied, sullenly. It just seems such a waste. She had so much, what they call potential. Everything to live for.

It often seems only the good die young! Lady Holbrook spoke the cliche very seriously. Millie nodded once and left the room, polishing the gold-plated doorknob as she closed the fancy carved walnut panel.

Lady Holbrook sighed deeply and sat to pick up her Ngaio Marsh novel. She shouldn't read the things. They were so much below her, but they also held her attention while she tried to beat the hero to a solution of the crime.

Millie probably read them when she discarded them. That's what gave the woman those strange suspicions.

Murder, indeed! Millie simply didn't understand that murder among the elite social strata of the Holbrooks happened only in books, not in reality.

Oh, just bloody wonderful! Now it's going to pour before I get home! Absolutely perfect! Millie thought, pacing her rather ample middle-aged body up to almost a trot. And my brollie is at my front door! Never there when you NEED it!

Will had better use his head and not stay out in the rain. The Holbrook estate could let the grass stay uncut for a few more hours until the rain stopped. She didn't need a husband with flu. Not now! The Holbrooks were very good to them, but she couldn't help noting that they lived in some crazy fantasy world where things that happened to normal people never quite managed to invade.

Lord, she was thinking like they talked!

She might just make her door before the now-light sprinkle really let loose. It came up fast and would pour buckets.

There was a tall, dark, rather handsome, man at her door as she ran up. He had a case, so was probably selling something.

Her luck! A storm coming so she HAD to invite him in!

The light played strange tricks at the first of a storm. She couldn't really quite focus on his face except to note his dark eyes almost glowed. There was something most attractive about him. Almost what they call magnetic. She almost giggled when she suddenly thought of those old traveling salesman jokes. She'd never cheated on Willie – wouldn't – but still ... she would be tempted if she were twenty years younger! She thought of the word, gorgeous when she looked at him.

How silly! It must be the storm and the events of the past week!

Mrs. O'Casey? he asked. His voice was a quiet smooth mellow baritone. Very sexy and pleasing.

From two words? What was the matter with her today!

Er, yes?

I'm Merlin Tyana, census. He handed her a red card with subdued gold lettering. Merlin Tyana, Watersham Under Makebridge. She'd never heard of it, but she knew they took a census every so often.

The rain suddenly poured, drumming on the roof so loudly she could barely hear, and blowing around their ankles on the little covered stoop.

Oooh! Come inside before we catch our deaths! she cried, and flung open the door. "I'll make tea – or coffee if you