I am delighted to be taking part in another virtual blog tour with The Coffee Pot Book Club! And it is with eager anticipation that I introduce you to M J Porter and her fabulously titled novel The Custard Corpses.
The Custard Corpses
By M J Porter
A delicious 1940s mystery.Birmingham, England, 1943.
While the whine of the air raid sirens might no longer be rousing him from bed every night, a two-decade-old unsolved murder case will ensure that Chief Inspector Mason of Erdington Police Station is about to suffer more sleepless nights.
Young Robert McFarlane’s body was found outside the local church hall on 30th September 1923. But, his cause of death was drowning, and he’d been missing for three days before his body was found. No one was ever arrested for the crime. No answers could ever be given to the grieving family. The unsolved case has haunted Mason ever since.
But, the chance discovery of another victim, with worrying parallels, sets Mason, and his constable, O’Rourke, on a journey that will take them back over twenty-five years, the chance to finally solve the case, while all around them the uncertainty of war continues, impossible to ignore.
“We’ve been informed of other murders; they might be similar to McFarlane’s. Certainly, I’ve been to Weston and examined the case file there. Now I’m getting information from two possible cases, one before ours and one after. Smythe has permitted me to look into it in detail.”
“Where were the other cases?”
“Inverness and Berwick upon Tweed.”
“Well, there’s no connection there.” Jones’ desire to dismiss the matter immediately surprised Sam. “Not with the other one taking place in the west, and ours here, in the centre of the country.” Jones pointed at the map on the wall as he spoke, but rather than dissuading Sam; it merely made him think that he was right to pursue the matter.
“Well, you asked what we were doing, and that’s what we’re doing,” Sam offered, hopefully, already turning his back on Jones. If the other man was so dismissive, he was going to be no help. None at all.
“I always knew you’d not forgotten about this. You and your precious Chief Inspector Fullerton, trying to right all the bloody wrongs in the world. What a waste when you could be doing something useful.” The fury in Jones’ voice astounded Sam, but evidently not as much as O’Rourke, who looked about to launch a tirade against the sergeant.
“Well, Smythe has given his permission. So, it’s what we’re going to be doing. You can get back to doing something useful,’” Sam stated flatly.
“Suit yourself. I’m fine with you wasting your time.”
When Jones had left the room, Sam closed the door and turned to O’Rourke, a wince on his face.
“Sorry. He asked, and I thought he probably needed to know. I didn’t think he’d get so angry about it.”
“You don’t need to apologise to me,” O’Rourke offered brightly, shaking her braids from side to side. “He’s never happy unless he’s right about something, and he’s not right about this. Now, where do you want to start?”
“You’re helping me, then?” he asked, pleased with her initiative.
“Yes, well, unless Smythe calls me away. I think you’ll need some help if that’s not too impertinent.”
“Not at all. I need someone with a young mind to keep me right. Now, to start with, I think we should mark the places on that map. It’s not a lot to go on, but I prefer to visualise such things. Are you alright to hop up beside it again?”
“Oh yes, not a problem. What shall we use?”
“Here,” and he passed a rectangular piece of card to her. “Actually, no, I’ll write some details on first. The date, the place, and the name of the victim.”
“Then maybe add one piece of information to three cards. That way, we’ll still be able to read it from down here.”
“Good idea,” he agreed and hastened to do just that, the pen lid in his mouth as he carefully wrote April 4th 1919, and then Inverness in his large and slightly lopsided handwriting. He printed the details, making it as easy as possible to read from a distance.
“Ah, I didn’t find out her name.”
“We’ll add that later,” O’Rourke stated. “Perhaps just put female for now. I think it’s relevant.”
“Right, here you go. I’ll do the ones for Berwick while you attach those.”
“Right-o.”
Doesn't this book sound amazing? If you want to purchase a copy you can find it on all the usual places. Click on the UNIVERSAL LINK and it will take you to your favourite bookstore where this novel is sold.
M J Porter writes historical fiction set before 1066. Usually. This is M J's first foray into the historical mystery genre and the, relatively recent, twentieth century.
M J writes A LOT, you've been warned.
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Thank you so much for hosting The Custard Corpses today! (I love the title too:))
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