The Dark Row Detective

By N.E.P. Williams

Errant husbands. Perhaps. Feuding Romans. Sort of. And bodies. Lots of them. Popping up all over the place. All over historic Chester. In between the famous sights and sounds. And sometimes right on top of them.
But all is not quite as it seems. And there is only one man to get to the bottom of it all. Well, one man on Dark Row, at least. Helped (or is that hindered?) by the local chief of police.
And so it is that Elliot Eaton, the eponymous Dark Row Detective, Chester’s one and only private and very personal detective, sets to work in Chester’s murky and mysterious underbelly, just like his ancestors did before him. Closely tracked by Detective Inspector Crump of the esteemed Chester Constabulary.
What could possibly go wrong?

• Language: English
• Publisher: N.E.P. Williams
• Release date: Aug 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005694777

N.E.P. Williams

N.E.P. Williams is the author of the humorous Chester-based crime series, the Elliot Eaton Escapades, following the trials and tribulations of Elliot Eaton, the one and only Dark Row Detective.Discover historic Chester through the eyes of our eponymous hero. Roman Centurions. The City Walls. The Eastgate Clock. The Rows. The river. The Cathedral and the Cross. Chester Races. Even the Zoo. It's all there.So, need a bit of light relief? A bit of fluff and whimsy? No gore. No sex. No bad language. What's not to like?! Intrigued? Well, check them out! They're only little. Enjoy! Elliot Eaton will take good care of you.N.E.P. Williams lives in Chester. As does Elliot.

Book preview

The Dark Row Detective

By

N.E.P. Williams

Copyright 2015 N.E.P. Williams

Smashwords Edition

For Jane

Table of Contents

Chapter One – Eaton Enquiries

Chapter Two – The Tunic Wars

Chapter Three – The Chester Constabulary

Chapter Four – Browns Of Chester

Chapter Five – The Mancunion Way

Chapter Six – Home Sweet Home

Chapter Seven – The Meadows

Chapter Eight – Bijou Boutique

Chapter Nine – The Amphitheatre

Chapter Ten – A Tour Of The Crime Scenes

Chapter Eleven – InDeva

Chapter Twelve – The Chester Chariot

Chapter Thirteen – The Mancunion Way (Again)

Chapter Fourteen – The Dinner Party

Chapter Fifteen – A Day At The Races

Chapter Sixteen – Back To The Office

Chapter Seventeen – A Night On The Tiles

Chapter Eighteen – The End Of The Tunic Wars

Chapter Nineteen – No More Missing Mannequins

Chapter Twenty – A Pint In The Pub

Acknowledgements

Chapter One – Eaton Enquiries

They fished out the body one chilly morning in spring.

At least, that was what the poor woman who reported the seemingly grisly discovery, whilst out walking her dog, had said it was. It turned out to be a mannequin. Fully clothed. Dressed to the nines, in fact. As though it had stumbled to a watery grave after a night out on the town.

Of course, none of this became obvious until the full force of the Chester Constabulary had descended, sirens flashing, frogmen at the ready, on to the expectant crime scene. And sadly, not before a crowd of inquisitive and sniggering on-lookers had gathered, peering down from the bridge above, as the team of highly trained divers pulled out the dummy.

Detective Inspector Crump wasn’t overly impressed. To make matters worse, he had a thumping headache from one, or perhaps three, too many the night before and a dull, constant, nagging pain at the foot of his spine, that he was either too busy or too lazy to get sorted. He sucked on one of his beloved roll-ups, hoping it would ease his catalogue of complaints.

You want to pack those up too the Chief would constantly say. They’ll be the death of you, you know.

So could a bus, Sir.

And then where would the Chester Constabulary be?

I perish the thought, Sir.

DI Crump stood on the quayside, pondering his lot. Or, more accurately, his not a lot. He was gruff, thickset and balding, though not necessarily in that order. Indeed, if you didn’t know he was a policeman, you would half expect him to be a villain, with an entourage of attendant heavies hanging on his every word.

The Canal Basin is a brief widening of the Shropshire Union Canal as it approaches the city. In bygone days it used to act as a boatyard, a service station on a motorway from the past. DI Crump’s mind wandered, as he stared out across the expanse of water, imagining it packed with narrow boats, jostling for position as they plied their trade back and forth across the Cheshire Plain.

A tall, gangly young PC brought him back to reality. And back to the derelict and faintly eerie scene before him.

We’re all packed up, Sir. We put the dummy in a body bag and shoved it in the back of the van. He paused and then added, with an exaggerated grin, It drew a large round of applause from the crowd, Sir.

Did it really, Constable Gibbon. Marvellous. I’m so glad you found it amusing. He closed his eyes and took a deep sigh. I tell you what though, Constable. I’m getting fed up with these things. But I know just the man who can waste his time looking into them rather than me.

Yes sir replied Constable Gibbon, his inane grin positively gleaming in the morning sunshine.

Later that morning DI Crump barged unceremoniously into an office he knew rather well, with a somewhat flustered secretary trailing in his wake.

Chief Inspector Chump, what an unexpected pleasure! I didn’t know you had an appointment? exclaimed the occupant from behind his desk.

You can cut out the sarcasm, Eaton. And I’m neither a chump nor a chief, as you well know.

Elliot Eaton feigned mock surprise. It’s alright Miss Baines, I’ll take our honoured guest from here.

Miss Baines eyed DI Crump with a suspicious glare. She had obviously witnessed this exchange a number of times before. She was a rather formidable and matronly figure, not to be crossed one would assume, of slightly advanced but uncertain years, who seemed to look down on both men as a vaguely frazzled mother would on two errant toddlers. She gave an exasperated grunt, turned on her heels and marched purposefully out of the office.

DI Crump gave Elliot a very intense stare. Elliot often liked to play a secret game he called ‘guess the animal from Chester Zoo’. In the case of Detective Inspector Crump, a rather irascible orangutan always sprang to mind.

So, how can I help the celebrated Chester Constabulary this fine morning? Elliot enquired.

I’d like you to do a bit of ferreting for me DI Crump replied.

YOU would like ME to do some ferreting for YOU. And what would I gain from this commission … payment perhaps?

In your dreams, Elliot, in your dreams. The undying gratitude of her Majesty’s police force should be more than adequate in this case. You owe me loads of favours anyway.

Elliot reluctantly nodded in agreement. And what kind of ferreting would you like me to do?

I’d like you to find out who deposited a fully clothed mannequin into the Canal Basin this morning.

Elliot was rather stunned by this pronouncement. And why won’t the esteemed Chester Constabulary be investigating this crime?

Well, for a start, it’s not a crime, is it? Or, not much of one. Although I suspect there may be some obscure by-law about cluttering up Chester’s waterways. But the local press will pick up on it – in fact, I think they already have – I’m sure there was a hack from the Chimes buzzing around this morning. And the Chief will pick up on it too, you can be sure of that. He’ll expect us to do something, but we’ve got better things to be doing than chasing dummies.

Elliot stifled a snigger. DI Crump winced at this point, rubbing his back gingerly.

Back still causing you trouble, Inspector? Really, you should take more care of yourself. You want to try a bit of Pilates, I’m told. Anyway, it’s probably just some drunken youths having a bit of fun at the end of a pub crawl round town.

Thank you for your concern. But that’s the third such discovery in a month.

So … it’s exam celebrations … you know what those students are like.

Wrong time of year, Elliot.

Elliot considered this for a moment.

Where were the other two found?

The first popped up in Northgate Locks. Scared the hell out of some poor unsuspecting narrowboat owner. And the other was left hanging over the river, dangling rather ignominiously from the railings of Queens Park footbridge.

And can I inspect the corpses, so to speak? Have the autopsies been carried out?

Oh, give it a rest, Elliot. The first one nearly got chucked, but it seemed one of our WPCs thought she might have a use for it. The mind boggles really. Anyroad, when the second one turned up, we thought we better keep them. So you can inspect them at your leisure down at the station. Just ask for WPC Stubbins.

Well, let’s see when I can fit you in said Elliot, peering down at a large diary to the side of his desk.

Oh I’m sure you are quite rushed off your feet.

Now who is being sarcastic, Detective Inspector Crump. Leave it with me, I’m sure I can fit in a request from her Majesty’s law enforcement.

DI Crump took this as an end to proceedings and departed the premises in as marked a manner as his arrival.

That man is insufferable! spluttered Miss Baines as Elliot stepped out of his office.

Yes indeed, Miss Baines, yes indeed. DI Crump does have his moments. But it is always wise to curry favour with the long arm of the law, especially in our line of business.

Elliot Eaton was a nosey parker by trade. Rumour had it that he came from a long line of nosey parkers, who had been ferreting about in Chester’s affairs on and off for generations. The formal occupation stated on his passport was Private Detective, although he preferred the term Personal Detective, as that rather implied