Decamot inspired by the following items: Anglepoise lamp, East Coast, splattered egg, Patrick, air conditioning unit, local gym, Web, alarm system, cowboys, crossword
“Which set of cowboys installed that monstrosity?” asked Detective Inspector Patrick Bristow pointing to the air conditioning unit which dominated the ceiling directly above the CEO’s desk.
Susan Horton-Barr kept her thoughts to herself as they stepped over the dead body of her late boss whose brains had been distributed over the wall opposite like a splattered egg.
It seemed a little premature at this early stage in the investigation to admit that her advice had been ignored.
She had recommended an international firm with impeccable credentials, whereas Sir Oliver Camp had opted for a company with whom he had an improbable link through a distant Forster cousin he had met on Facebook. East Coast Installations of Aberdeen didn’t even have a web presence.
The alarm system, which had been mysteriously disabled 24 hours earlier, had also been the subject of another, admittedly rare, cross word with her boss. F4 Security, who were in and out within forty minutes, were another of her boss’s dubious choices; picked up, Susan thought, networking at his local gym. It looked as if the anglepoise lamp which normally sat on the corner of the desk had been used as the murder weapon. It now lay across the chest of the deceased.
Donning full CSI clothing, Inspector Bristow picked up the lamp carefully with his gossamer gloves and very nearly dropped it.
“Bloody hell! he said apologetically, “Pardon my French, but this is no ordinary lamp; it weighs a ton”
The base of the lamp contained a magnet so powerful that it created a magnetic field directly above it of such force that its perpendicular velocity could loosen ill fitting screws in the air conditioning unit in the ceiling above.
As Inspector Bristow moved towards the desk holding the anglepoise up to the light, the Midea 16.0kW air conditioning unit came crashing down on his head.
Agatha Christie sat back in her favourite writing chair, pleased to have reached this stage in plot development.
She now needed to create implausible family links between, Sir Oliver Camp, Susan Horton-Barr, Cousin Forster, Inspector Bristow and the security firm F4, which would satiate readers in a shoal of red herrings for a couple of hours.
But, for now, “The Impatient Assassin” was taking shape nicely.
Her real dilemma was whether to use Hercule Poirot or Miss Marple to solve it.
Not for the first time did she curse her ill fortune for having given her contemporary, Arthur Conan Doyle, the idea for Sherlock Holmes. Admittedly, her creation had actually been a Venetian property developer called Shylock Homes, but you can’t win them all.