Friday Fictioneers Time:
The coroner concludes that Great Uncle Percy’s death was accidental; he’d tumbled off his hunter during the fox chase.
Nobody has cause to doubt the ruling; not, that is, until it’s discovered someone has rifled through his bureau, undoubtedly in search of the secret drawer and its rumored contents.
Suspicion falls on my cousin. He’d recently argued with Uncle Percy who’d denied his demand for cash.
The investigation reopens.
Closer examination of the hunter’s broken girth strap reveals it was almost sliced through with a sharp implement.
I dawdle by the koi pond; my penknife sinks beneath the murk.