In the last post: If the hanging was a joke, it wasn't funny. Whatever, Chief Inspector Dobbs was on the case...
Dear friends, if you like a good chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them for free, or wait to buy the entire story when published.
Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 32
Chief Inspector Dobbs locked eyes with Dick Charmer. He was an expert at staring his adversary into submission, and it wasn’t long before the young rogue's smile crumpled.
“Better get on," said Dick Charmer. He scratched his nose and pivoted to go back indoors. "Work to do.”
“No you don’t.” Chief Inspector Dobbs produced a second set of handcuffs from his bulky dressing gown pockets. “Get yourself over here.”
The inspector wasn’t tall, his physical strength had dwindled with the years, and he felt ridiculous in his nightgown and slippers. He rubbed his lips with one hand and dangled the handcuffs at arm's length with the other, as if hiding behind them restored some of his prestige.
Dick Charmer glanced through the open doorway into his lounge. "Can you give me a second?" he asked.
"No." His voice carried such an air of authority that Dick Charmer flinched.
A flutter of irritation washed across the lad's face, but he yanked his front door closed, darted over to where Chief Inspector Dobbs stood, and plunked his arm around the policeman’s shoulder. “Now see here, Dobby, you’re not planning to stick those on me, are you?”
“Get your arm off me, you sodding twerp, and place your hands on each side of this scaffolding pole.”
“Why? What have I done?”
"Yeah," said Bert, already handcuffed to the scaffolding outside Olive's house. "What have I done too?"
“That’s what I’m about to find out." Chief Inspector Dobbs snapped the handcuffs over Dick Charmer’s wrists, left him stranded there, and ambled toward the man’s front door.
“You can’t go in there without a search warrant,” called Dick Charmer, rattling his handcuffs against the scaffolding pole.
Chief Inspector Dobbs thrust the door open with his slippered toe and spoke without turning. “I write my own warrants,” he said, and marched straight in.
To be continued…
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Little Boy Lost by Marghanita Laski
My rating: 2 of 5 stars
A curious book this, about an Englishman searching for his lost infant son in France just after WW2. Laski wrote this book just after the war too, and it shows its age, stuffed with adverbs, adjectives, and telling rather than showing.
It's a heartbreaking story, well worth a read for its stunning portrayal of war-torn France, but the hero, because of his weak morals, is a tough person to cheer for. Also, the plot is obvious and falls flat on its face at the end.
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James at Goodreads