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Precisely 1000-word Short Story Fiction Mystery-Adventures of Inspector Pascal! Fast-paced fiction fun for all ages!  INSPECTOR PASCAL MYSTERIES 1000
#1 Pascal’s Plum by T.K. Naliaka ©2016-2023 all rights reserved Madame Bleu, with elegantly-coiffed silver-streaked hair, curled her lip and tossed her burnt-orange cashmere shawl irritably over her shoulders, a studied theatrical gesture. “Inspector Pascal, you have kept us here waiting for an hour. My agent has scheduled audition appointments that I must keep.” He was about to reply when he noticed Sgt. Braque discreetly signaling him before opening the door. It was the housekeeper, Madame Brioche, seeming even more petite beside the big, broad-shouldered Braque, with her round cheeks reddened by the wind, bundled in her green wool coat and fur-topped ankle boots carrying a mesh shopping bag of long-leafed green leeks. Her smile faded as she took in the sight of the uniformed police sergeant, the inspector, trim in a discreet grey suit, and the rest of them sitting tensely in the small library, the three tenants of the house, Madame Bleu, thin balding Monsieur Robinet in his tan sweater and brown corduroy trousers and burly Monsieur Travaux, still in his faded blue work coverall. She hesitated, but Sgt. Braque directed her to a chair, so she sat down pensively. Inspector Pascal considered the glazed turquoise blue ceramic bowl heaped with deep purple plums set on the sleek, polished brown mahogany table beside him as his audience waited. He reached out, selected one of the smooth round fruits and raised it to examine it for a moment, then he spoke. “Lady Claire died by blunt trauma – one well-placed blow to the temple.” He frowned slightly. “The murder weapon has not been found.” Monsieur Robinet blinked. “Didn’t the police find a lead pipe in Monsieur Travaux’s apartment?” Travaux colored and began to rise out of his chair. “I don’t know nothing about that pipe! I never saw it before!” Sgt. Braque raised his service revolver. Frightened, Travaux quickly sat down. Inspector Pascal lowered the plum to focus his keen gaze on him. “It was in your room and you are a plumber, in debt after your injury, including work owed to Lady Claire.” “It’s not mine! “ Travaux’s ruddy face went pale when he saw the expressions on everyone’s faces. ”I wouldn’t never do that!” Pascal wasn’t finished. “Madame Bleu, despite your outward appearance, your regular sorties to theatre auditions are just that… theatre. Daily, you take precisely one tea and one biscuit at Le Chat Café to read free newspapers and you are two years in arrears on your rent owed to Lady Claire.” She gasped, then flushed as all the eyes in the room shifted to her. At last she said in a quavering voice. “In my day Inspector, a gentleman would never strip off whatever was left of a woman’s dignity.” The group’s eyes were wide and strained as they watched Pascal blandly roll the smooth dark plum in his palm for a moment more before carefully setting it back into the fruit bowl. He flipped through a few more note pages, pausing at one to read. He announced. “Madame Brioche, you purchased a large quantity on credit at Marché Deluxe last month. The total is quite beyond your normal means to repay.” She paled. “Those weren’t for me… well, only the music box! Lady Claire gave me the list and sent me to buy for her! I always wanted that little music box so I slipped it into the list. I was going to pay her for it later! I was saving my money for it! I didn’t want anyone else to buy it.” Her face crumpled and Brioche began to cry. “Since it’s all in my name, now the store is demanding I pay for everything! She’s gone and I don’t have my job anymore!” Pascal was silent. After a moment, he leaned over, took a handful of the deep purple plums from the bowl and set them on the mahogany table. “I have a confession. We did find the murder weapon.” He considered them coolly. “Lady Claire was killed here in the library, but Madame Brioche had arrived to clean so the killer hid the weapon and fled. Blocked from recovering it by the police cordon, the killer heard the police discussing a heavy blunt weapon so the killer planted a lead pipe in Monsieur Travaux’s apartment to frame him – isn’t that what happened, Monsieur Robinet!” Robinet froze, then he snorted. “That’s ridiculous!” “A perfect murder, except for one detail… the lead pipe! Lead pipes haven’t been used since the fall of the Roman Empire in 300 AD, because of lead poisoning! No modern plumber uses lead pipe, isn’t that correct, Monsieur Travail?” Travail jumped up, “Yes! Yes!” “You concur, Robinet? Or should I say, Augustus Lefèvre, Associate Professor of Roman Archeology at the University of Chancyville!” Two stacks of books went over with a crash when Sgt. Braque tackled Lefèvre as he lunged in fury for Inspector Pascal. Lefèvre shouted as Sgt. Braque locked the cuffs on his wrists. ”You don’t understand! This house sits over potentially the most fabulous Roman villa of ancient Investnivium! I rented the basement apartment to do a test excavation. It’s unparalleled! ” Pascal agreed, “Where you unearthed a trove of lead pipe!” Lefèvre snarled. “I tried everything to convince her, but she refused to sell!” “So you killed her…” Pascal’s hand went back to the bowl of plums. They watched as he pulled out a string, then raised his arm to extract a bulbous thing with a pointed end hanging heavily from the end of the cord, “… with this lead plumb!” Braque wrestled Lefèvre out the door. Pascal turned to the others. “Please, my apologies. Lady Claire’s estate provides generously for each of you. With your debts, it was damning motive for the courts, but I learned that none of you knew what she’d done. So, I felt deeply the duty to discover the truth.” The three sat overwhelmed, wiping their tears. Madame Bleu rose with a smile, kissed Pascal, then stepped back to applaud, “A plum of a performance, Inspector! Bravo! Bravo!” by T.K.Naliaka, copyright 2016-2023 All rights reserved |