Pins and Needles

By F J Shindler

A vintage Humber car is found rammed into an old Oak tree on a country lane; a bright Summer's day, no-one else on the road. The seat-belt might have saved the driver if only he'd bothered to put it on. But was it the crash that killed him? Or was it suicide? Or might he have been dead already, the result of a heart condition the retired Councillor had lived with for over nine years, a Councillor with a passion for vintage cars, professional ballroom dancing and other men's wives.

What begins as a routine investigation takes the Doctor and Harry on a journey neither one could possibly imagine, a voyage that hints at a past Doctor Goodier would rather forget.

• Language: English
• Publisher: F J Shindler
• Release date: Aug 25, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005509231

F J Shindler

F J Shindler was born in Manchester, England, but subsequently lived in various parts of the country before moving abroad. He now lives in a very hilly, very rural part of the Czech Republic in an old, though charming former farmhouse.The author of the ever-expanding short story series, ‘The Doctor Goodier and Harry Mysteries’, F J Shindler’s debut full length novel is the first of twelve interrelated works in the ‘Klub Päris Fantastiline’ series. Written in adult noir fiction form, Book one, ‘The Ninth Case File’, is set in 1966 and is titled ‘Mikey’.

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Copyright 2022 F J Shindler

Published by F J Shindler at Smashwords

Pins and Needles is a work of fiction.

Any similarity to actual events, establishments, institutions, and names of persons living or dead, is entirely unintentional.

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Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

Preface

Title

About F J Shindler

Other books by F J Shindler

Web-site

Acknowledgements

Acknowledgement to national-cancer-institute-ct10qdGv1hQ-unsplash for their kind permission to modify and use the cover image.

Preface

Pins and Needles is one of a number of stories in the Doctor Goodier and Harry Mysteries compilation.

A vintage Humber car is found rammed into an old Oak tree on a country lane; a bright Summer's day, no-one else on the road. The seat-belt might have saved the driver if only he'd bothered to put it on. But was it the crash that killed him? Or was it suicide? Or might he have been dead already, the result of a heart condition the retired Councillor had lived with for over nine years, a Councillor with a passion for vintage cars, professional ballroom dancing and other men's wives.

What begins as a routine investigation takes the Doctor and Harry on a journey neither one could possibly imagine, a voyage that hints at a past Doctor Goodier would rather forget.

Pins and Needles

A Doctor Goodier and Harry Mystery

A deep hollow in the Red leather bench-seat bore evidence to the driver’s hefty size and weight. Brim full with blood now, its dark excesses oozed into the rear foot-well, where congealed globules had already engulfed thin suede soles on a pair of highly polished ballroom dance shoes. An exclusive wooden steering wheel was in bits, jagged edges blunted by gouged out morsels of sodden flesh. In the shadows below that horrific scene, the driver’s feet remained fast between misshapen pedals that could not let go. Immediately discernible to the observer was that both legs were still connected to the mangled torso, but only just. It lay sprawled across the passenger side in a perverse contradiction of the human form; neck broken, bludgeoned head dangling doll-like beneath a Walnut dash-board whose shining veneer was sticky with a spattered amalgam of body fluids.

Ambulance crew confirmed an absence o' vital signs just seconds after they arrived, the Police Sergeant advised the approaching Doctor, dazed eyes never leaving the victim. Goes without sayin’, I told ‘em, ‘is ‘ead ‘angin’ off the way it is.

Doctor Goodier followed the Sergeant’s stare. Yes, well, had he taken the time to put on this seat-belt here, things might have turned out differently for the gentleman.

He reached through the twisted door-way to grasp the gleaming chrome clasp hanging loosely behind the deformed door pillar.

"I don’t know if you’re an enthusiast, Harry, but this lovely old Humber is a very early forties model, a collector’s item nowadays. As I'm sure you know, they didn’t leave the factory with seat-restraints back then. These belts will have been installed quite recently, when doing so became mandatory. But if you look at the tongue on this clasp, not only is it pristine still, but the maker's label is still bonded to it. I’d say our man was among the obstinate few who still refuse to buckle up."

The Sergeant lifted his chin in silent condemnation.

And as for what's left of that rather dapper steering wheel, the Doctor went on, an attractive, though thoroughly unwise investment.

Can't say I've ever seen a steerin' wheel like that before, the Sergeant commented, one made entirely o' wood, that is.

"And with good reason, Harry. In the formative years of the motor car they were far from unusual, before the advent of wire-reinforced Bakelite and so forth. This one looks quite similar to one I saw on an American car in my very young years. Highly attractive, but not without its consequences, as is evident here."

Doctor Goodier walked a slow, protracted route to the passenger side of the car, taking the time to make a visual examination of the boot as he passed. Thrown wide open on impact, the buckled lid allowed a shaft of light to pick out a crumpled cardboard box. Only thirty minutes earlier, the box had been host to a man's hand-tailored ballroom suit and tie combination, laid neatly between layers of fine tissue paper. Not so now. The chaotic pile formed a dusty, dishevelled bundle, shreds of White tissue lifting and falling in the gentlest of Summer breezes. Doctor Goodier moved to the open passenger door to crouch as far as his arthritic hip permitted.

The gear lever is missing,