"Well it's a skull. We all saw that. Olivia, why’d ya have to feel for those damn eye sockets? Why'd you even have to shine a light on it in the first place?"
Extract from Chapter 36 of mystery-comedy novel, 'The Investigations of the Para-Usual':
‘A lovely morning, Poindexter,’ proclaimed Cohen.
‘Unambiguously so, sir,’ concurred Poindexter, negotiating tables while balancing coffee and Danish pastries on a tray.
The morning traffic plying Piccadilly was muted here on the patio of the café in the lee of St James’s church.
‘Shall we arrange ourselves somewhere more sun-dappled, sir?’ suggested Poindexter, edging past an unoccupied table for another located under a protective plane tree.
‘An ambiguous message I saw the other day as it happens, sir,’ said Poindexter, breezily, depositing the tray upon the favoured table. ‘I saw a For Sale notice posted on the inside of a car window – “£4800, single owner”. Do you think the owner wanted to sell the vehicle and advertise his availability for a date?’
Cohen pursed his lips as if to contemplate Poindexter’s remark, then dragged out an aluminium chair to sit himself down.
Poindexter envisaged a spruced-up young man showing off a hatchback to a glamorous girl, suggesting she might want to take it for a test drive, take it for a spin. ‘We could drive up to Lover’s Leap. It’s lovely this time of year. Maybe take a bottle of wine,’ Poindexter imagined the young man saying, then adding as though mindful of his double purpose: ‘Just a glass, though of course. Not known as “one careful driver” for nothing, you know. Ha!’
