Don't Go Chasing after Waterfalls: The Clues Right under the Nose

By Simon- Peter Broughton

Don’t Go Chasing After Waterfalls is a murder mystery set in Victorian-time England. Daisy Magee is the first of her kind, a woman who has become a Chief Inspector. She has to deal with young ladies being murdered and set out in public view at different waterfalls. She has to deal with her role in a man’s world. The clues lie within nursery rhymes, riddles, different colour schemes for each murder, flowers to match the colour schemes, paper cutouts as clues to the nursery rhymes, and a nose stud that has a hidden clue in code to the next waterfall, and letters are also sent to her in a cat-and-mouse game. Some would call it mind games. Some characters have surprising names to remember. It also a story that teaches moral and spiritual life lessons.

This is the first book in a brand-new murder mystery series on the way to playing mind games. I hope you enjoy the book. Please send your constructive criticism to my email at [e-mail].

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jul 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9781662418662

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

My Body

It was a very hot, clear Midsummer’s Eve. The blue blood moon seemed to hang in the very balance, looking larger than life on the nightline of time and space. It was so spectacular that its amber rays lit up the waterfall. One felt they could reach out and touch the moon with the palm of their hand, if you happened to be awake that is.

It so happened that Daisy Magee was up and about the streets. She couldn’t sleep; she had to see for herself the full blue blood moon. Now Daisy had sensitive hearing. On odd occasions, she was known to put her left ear on the warm cobble road. She did so on this very hot Midsummer’s Eve night. By doing so, she was able to make out a sound that was like horseshoes at a frantic gallop heading toward the old square. But Daisy knew better; she never made the mistake of misidentifying that the sound wasn’t a horse. It was, in fact, the sound of a human being running in wooden clogs.

Daisy stood back up and turned around toward where the sound was coming from. She now could see and make out Homer, the shoemaker’s son, running like the speed of light. She heard a faint cry: I’ve found me a body—not anybody, my body. As Homer drew closer, Daisy could tell he had seen a ghost, for he was as white as a freshly washed cotton sheet. So pale was he in his appearance that the look of fear and terror of the devil had found him square between his eyes, for he happened to be in a state of deep shock.

Louder now, Homer cried, I’ve found me a body—not anybody, my body. I’ve found me a body. Suddenly the night crier came upon the scene, for he was trimming down the street lights. He was using his usual cry: Ten o’ clock and all is well.

Homer ran into the night crier. Dickie, Dickie. I’ve found me a body—not anybody, my body. I’ve found me a body. Do you want to come and see for yourself?

Daisy, having seen and heard what Homer was up to, called out toward the two men if she could be of any assistance. They both called Daisy over, and Homer asked her for her help. So Daisy and Homer headed toward the high waterfall that cascaded over the river.

As they approached the large majestic waterfall, the first thing Daisy noted was a strange oval-shaped boat that was made out of black cherrywood. It was strange because a white string wave, caused by the sap, went around the boat. The anchor from the boat held it in place. Homer became enraged. My body. See my body.

Daisy now noticed that a female body lay naked faceup. Her hourglass figure stood out; she had long jet-black hair and a face like an angel. Her clothes had been neatly folded and placed at the bottom of her feet. Her head rested on a scarlet silk pillow, her arms were crossed, the palm of her hands covered her large natural breasts, a heart-shaped ruby stud was placed on her left-side nostril, and red patience covered her midsection. Yes, naked as a jaybird, the young lady was laid out for all the world to see as a masterpiece of art.

Homer entered into the river bed and started heading toward the boat and his body. Get out of there, cried Daisy. I need you to go fetch Edmund Underwood. Edmund was the local police mortician and coroner. He was a tall, thin man. He had long black hair that was always kept in a ponytail, a neatly trimmed black beard, and a long curled-up mustache that he kept waxed.

Homer now became very distraught. It’s my body, not your body. It’s my body, Missy.

I know that, Homer, but I really need you to fetch Edmund Underwood. I’ll stay here till you both get back, and I promise you, nobody will touch your body. Thus, Homer left in a foul mood in search of the police mortician, leaving Daisy to guard his body in the heat of Midsummer’s Eve.

While Daisy was left all alone standing on the riverbank, she was staring into the direction of the oval-shaped boat. She was wearing her trademark brushed twill riding trousers, light-blue in colour. (She always wore trousers because she was living in and doing the job of a man in a man’s world.) Along with the trousers, she wore a light-yellow Vesta blouse and light-blue shoes. She was only twenty-six years of age, had long wavy strawberry-blonde hair, was very fit and attractive in her well-kept figure. But Daisy took great pride in her natural brainpower. Part of her make-up was to only wear the colour of blues, yellows, pale greens, and whites; but Daisy never wore blue and green together unless a colour was in between.

The juices of Daisy’s grey cells began to kick in. Was she alone, or was the killer watching her? She now felt a cold chill running down her spine, for she knew that some killers would stick around to see how the inspector would handle their crime scene.

It was now midnight, and finally Edmund Underwood and Homer arrived in Edmund’s wagon driven by two black horses. Hello, Daisy. How are you doing? Homer says he found himself a body. Is that true?

Homer jumped in, It’s my body, not anybody. It’s my body, and it’s right there, see?

Well, I never. I’m better than great, said Daisy. That’s right, Homer. It’s your body, and you did find it, didn’t you?

Homer wore his big toothless grin. Thank you, Missy. Thank you very much. It is my body. I found it, and don’t you forget it. I found my body.

Edmund chimed in, Daisy, has anyone attempted to tamper with the crime scene?

Not that I’m aware of, Edmund, but I keep getting this chill running down the back of my spine as if someone or something has been watching me.

Edmund asked Homer to wade with him into the river water and help him with the oval boat and his body. Upon reaching the boat, Edmund upped the anchor, and both men guided the boat back toward the riverbank, where Daisy was waiting. Well, Daisy, I don’t see anything strange here. But in a sense, the thing that is strange is the way the body has been placed as if she’s presented as a work of art placed in natural surroundings. But I’m sure the autopsy will prove the cause of death. I’ll rush it through for you. The two men and Daisy carefully removed the evidence and placed everything (including the boat) on Edmund’s wagon. Then they all climbed into the front of the wagon, and Edmund drove them back toward the police morgue.

CHAPTER TWO

The Autopsy Result

Because Edmund really liked Daisy (who wouldn’t?) and because he had a deep respect for her, he knew the lads at the station would give her hell, all because she was the first female to hold the rank of Chief Inspector of the criminal investigation department (CID). Edmund worked through the rest of the night on the autopsy of the young lady. He took down notes and made his report. He noted that he was amazed that no markings could be found anywhere on the outside of the body.

Daisy awoke to the bright morning sun shining through the east window of her large bedroom. She got out of bed, took a big yawn, stretched, and headed toward the bathroom where she took a stripwash and put on a new set of clean clothes. Then she headed out toward the police station. On her way, as always, she passed the preacher’s home called the White House. It sat on the first of two embankments, and in the front yard was the tallest pine tree she’d ever seen. They said that on a clear day, one could see the pine tree twenty-five miles away.

Daisy entered the police station, and before reporting to her Chief Superintendent, she stopped by the front desk to see Sergeant Holden. Good morning, ma’am. How are you doing today? asked Richard.

Good morning, Richard. I’m better than great, thank you. Can you do me a big favour and give me a list of all missing ladies in the last month and drop it off on my desk?

The whole list, ma’am?

That’s right, Richard. The whole list, please.

Right, ma’am.

Thank you kindly, Richard. And with that, Daisy headed off to see her Chief Superintendent to report about the Midsummer’s Eve event.

On her way back to her own department, Sergeant Holden handed Daisy the list of missing persons. Sorry, ma’am, I got sidetracked, but here is the list you asked for, ma’am.

Well, Bob’s your uncle and Betty your aunt. Thank you, Richard. Daisy entered the department through the crime room and then entered her own private office and sat at her desk to look over the missing persons report. She looked up and noticed that Adelaide, a young twenty-four-year-old inspector (she was hand-picked by Daisy as a replacement for Tom Tinker), had arrived. She was ordinary-looking (as plain as Jane), she had shoulder-length brown hair that matched her brown eyes, and she had an average-size figure. She wasn’t well-dressed like her boss, Daisy.

Daisy left her office. Good morning, Adelaide. Where’s George?

Good morning, ma’am. George went down the hall to get himself some morning tea.

Well, Bob’s your uncle and Betty’s your aunt, who needs tea this time of day? Now George was of medium height, and he had a beer belly and a slightly bald spot showing through his light-brown short cut hair. He was old school. At forty-eight, he resented the fact that Daisy was his new boss; the job should have been his for the taking. He also believed an attractive woman should be seen and not heard and that they had no rights to work in a man’s world. Well, Adelaide, it’s no point starting without him. You be a doll and go fetch him.

Yes, ma’am. Adelaide got up from behind her desk and left the room, heading down the hallway in search of George. She found George apple-sourcing with the guys. Adelaide interrupted them. George. George. Ma’am needs us right now, so move it.

Get the hell out, little girl. We guys are having a barn and chin wagon here. The guys started laughing.

No, George, you move your butt and come right now.

George had a scallywag look on his face. He threw his teacup into the sink. Well, lads, I guess I have my marching orders. With a sour look now on his face, George followed Adelaide back to the office room.

Well, I never, Daisy said as they both entered the crime room office area. You finally decided to grace us with your presence, George! Let’s cut straight to the chase. Last night I came across a young lady’s dead body in a cherrywood boat by the waterfall. I’m waiting for the autopsy report from Edmund. Sergeant Holden has handed me the missing persons report. There were twelve people listed. Six were children, two of them were men, and the other four remaining were women. As you can see, I’ve written their names on the blackboard. Our journey now begins in finding out who this young woman is. We don’t have much to go on, so it’s house calls you’ll be making. I want you to start right now and make the house calls on these four names.

Are you kidding us? You want us to do ordinary police street work and go house to house? It’s a waste of time, you hear me? A waste of our time, George chimed in with a demeaning tone and glance toward his new boss.

By George, I do believe you’ve got it, George. House calls it is for you, and don’t forget to show your kind side and ask the right questions. Jump to it then.

Adelaide and grumpy George left the station, passing Edmund in the hallway, who was holding his report on the autopsy results.

Daisy was mulling over in her grey-cell thinking how the young lady had been laid out. She thought about the handcrafted cherrywood boat, the clothes, the pillow and flowers, those red-colour patience, and Homer.

Edmund knocked three times on Daisy’s private office door with a pause between each knock. Daisy looked up, and through the glass, she said, Come on in, Edmund. Edmund walked into her office. He handed over the autopsy report.

Well, good morning, Daisy. Hope you enjoyed your sleep.

I did, Edmund.

I’ve never seen a case like this one, Daisy. I can honestly say it’s special because there are no gun wounds, no knife slashes, no pricks or abrasions, no bruises of any kind. The young lady was suffocated to her death, no signs of a struggle. Now here’s where it becomes strange and, in my view, a special case. When I untied the scarlet clothes, I recorded the type of bow used in my report. I then separated the clothes to record each item of clothing, and in the middle of the clothes were two paper cutouts strung together. One was a black spider attached to a cutout of a pail of water, and as you know, Daisy, she had that heart-shaped ruby nose stud in her left nostril.

That’s all very interesting, Edmund. Very interesting indeed. Thank you kindly for rushing this one through for me. You’re really an angel in disguise, Edmund.

In the meantime, Adelaide and George had made three house calls, but no match. Told you this was a waste of police time. We’re on a wild goose hunt here. It’s what I call a load of codswallop. A load of codswallop, I tell you.

Come on, George. She’s only asking us to find out if one of these families who happened to report a missing daughter is this young lady’s family. All we’re doing is downright basic police work, hitting the bobbies’ beat hard and fast dare I add here.

Looking over Edmund’s autopsy report, Daisy pondered within her grey cells why the black spider and a pail of water cutouts. What were they doing inside the neatly folded scarlet clothes? What was the meaning of the two objects? Was the killer taunting them from the get-go, or was it a calling card? She wrote the key points on one of the blackboards, and next to the words spider and pail, she placed a big question mark with a note: What does this mean?

Adelaide and George finally reached the front door of the fourth person on their short list. George knocked on the door with quick pounding, and his fist was clenched. Waste of time, this is, George said under his breath.

Let me take the lead on this one, George.

Okay, I’m bummed out with this tedious job.

The butler answered the front-door knock. In a long-drawn-out voice, he stated, Can I help you?

"Yes, I’m Inspector Adelaide Newberry, and this is my partner, Inspector George Strangeways. We’ve come on a police matter. Is your master or mistress in?’

Yes, they are both in, but what is this all about?

Sorry, sonny, but as the lady stated, this is an official police business. So can we come in or what?

Before George could finish, the butler chimed in, Oh, well, come in then. He led them down the hallway to the waiting area and asked if they would like to sit while he goes to enquire if the master of the house was free to visit with them. The two inspectors were left on their own while the butler moved slowly across the hallway toward the master drawing room.

Let’s go over this again, George. I’ll be asking the questions, and you are to remain silent. Do I make myself clear for you, George!

"Okay, Miss Knickerbockers, don’t get your nickers in a twist. We’ll do it your way, but know