Criminal Performance: A Bettie Private Eye Mystery Short Story: The Bettie English Private Eye Mysteries

By Connor Whiteley

A Dire Performance. A Mysterious Theft. A Treacherous Secret.

People steal everything.

Private Eye Bettie English watches a performance. She hears a tragic theft occurred. Bettie investigates.

More than Bettie realises depends on her.

If you enjoy addictive gripping mystery short stories so unputdownable you'll read late into the night, you NEED this story!

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• Language: English
• Publisher: CGD Publishing
• Release date: Aug 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9798201676049

Connor Whiteley

Hello, I'm Connor Whiteley, I am an 18-year-old who loves to write creatively, and I wrote my Brownsea trilogy when I was 14 years old after I went to Brownsea Island on a scout camp. At the camp, I started to think about how all the broken tiles and pottery got there and somehow a trilogy got created.Moreover, I love writing fantasy and sci-fi novels because you’re only limited by your imagination.In addition, I'm was an Explorer Scout and I love camping, sailing and other outdoor activities as well as cooking.Furthermore, I do quite a bit of charity work as well. For example: in early 2018 I was a part of a youth panel which was involved in creating a report with research to try and get government funding for organised youth groups and through this panel. I was invited to Prince Charles’ 70th birthday party and how some of us got in the royal photograph.Finally, I am going to university and I hope to get my doctorate in clinical psychology in a few years.

Book preview

CRIMINAL PERFORMANCE

20th August 2022

Canterbury, England

Private Eye Bettie English had seen some stunning performances at various theatres all over the United Kingdom. She had seen the breath-taking opera in London, amazing comedies that made her stomach hurt for days on end afterwards in Edinburgh and she had seen the sweetest little production done by children for the various charities that she gave money too.

But this performance was just criminally bad.

Bettie sat on a very comfortable little red seat in the circle of the Bluebird Theatre in Canterbury, this was probably the best seat she had ever had because its delightful softness, a black cup holder in the arm that was actually large enough to hold her diet coke and the seat was dead-centre in line with the middle of the stage.

The large(ish) black stage itself wasn’t exactly grand, it was probably nothing more than some wooden blocks stuck together to give a very convincing look alike to trick people into believing it was a professional stage, but Bettie just knew better.

The smell of sweat, peanuts and amazingly rich bitter coffee filled the air, and Bettie was so looking forward to next month when she gave birth to her twins and she could finally have some of the delightful black gold again. She had really