Prisca's_Writing_Area

Title: Power of Observation
Character: Miss Marple, Mr. Stringer
Word Count: 163
Prompt: tea
Finished: 18.07.2021

:::

Miss Marple suddenly stiffened in every movement; slowly she put her cup of tea back onto the table. „Of course,“ she murmured,“ that's the answer. Mr. Stringer, we need to go to Scotland Yard. Talk with Inspector Cradock, before he's going to make a big mistake.“

Even though he had hoped for an afternoon with tea, chocolate cookies, and an interesting discussion about the newest novel by Sir Arthur Connon Doyle, Mr. Stringer didn't hesitate. „What is it, Miss Marple,“ he asked, while he grabbed for his flat cap. „A new crime?“

She glanced at him. „An old one, Mr. Stringer. An old one. Remember the article in the paper this morning, about this young girl who got arrested for killing her uncle? But she's not guilty.“

„She's not, because...“

„The tea, Mr. Stringer. No one did pay attention to the tea.“

And suddenly he did understand. „Miss Marple,“ he said full of awe, „your power of observation is brilliant again.“

Title: A shot in the evening
Character: Miss Marple, OFC
Word Count: 347
Written for the Fandom Battle at FFFC
Finished: 18.05.2021

:::

„Jane!“

Thoughtfully Miss Marple pulled her face when she heard the voice of her friend. Dolly usually was a cheery woman who loved to chat about just everything. Today though, she sounded somehow depressed. „Dolly? What's going on?“

A peal of slightly embarrassed laughter. Then the answer, which alarmed her even more. „I think he's dead.“

„Who is dead?“

„Mr. Calverton, you know, this nice young man who moved in into the Sunrise Cottage last month. I've told you about him.“

„Why do you think he is dead?“

„There was this loud pop yesterday evening, like a shot. You know, my father used to go hunting every weekend. My mother started to worry about him when he got older, his eye light decreasing, his sense of hearing, too.

She always used to say: 'Arthur, one day an accident will happen, and I won't be there to help you.' Thank goodness, this never happened, he always came back to us with a pheasant or some rabbits for dinner, and of course, my mother was pleased about this. Hard times, you know, we lost all our money because of...“

„I know, Dolly,“ Miss Marple cut her off softly, „but this was not what you wanted to tell me about. Mr. Calverton, remember?“

„Oh yes, of course, he was such a nice young man. Every Sunday, he visited the church; one day, he even gave me a ride home in his car because it was raining so hard.

I'm worried about him. It's so not him to vanish without a goodbye. And there was this shot yesterday evening, just when we sat down for a light supper. Pete says it's just my imagination, but something horrible has happened. I know what a shot sounds like.“

„Of course, you do,“ Miss Marple said reassuringly. She already knew what she had to do. „Don't worry, Dolly, we will find out what is happened with Mr. Calverton. I will arrive at Pimperne this evening at about 5.30 o'clock; maybe you can send me a car.“