Wednesday's Words on a Friday

The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles.

The aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.

If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along and read it.

This month the words are supplied by ME and can be found right here.

Next month Delores will be providing the prompts which may or may not be words.

This week's words are:

1. passport
2. movies
3. puffed
4. complete
5. transport
6. bleach

and/or:

1. avenue
2. helicopter
3. fair
4. clearly
5. foolishness
6. ability

Here is my story: a continuation of last week's chapter.

Chatting stopped momentarily as the pizzas arrived and everybody filled their mouths with yumminess. After finishing a slice each, Inspector Stanley Grace reached for the basket holding several slices of garlic bread and handed it around. Only Harry declined, being already halfway through a second pizza slice. Without discussing too much of the case, Irene and Stanley agreed that after their lunch they would stop in at the small Police Station here in Shark Cove; the bartender, Christopher having been so kind as to offer directions. “It’s only fair that we keep the locals in the loop,” he said, “we’d expect the same if they came into ‘our’ territory.”  “We could also ask if they know anything about Bernice or the Scenic Retreat,” said Irene, quietly, while Harry and Eleanor were at the bar ordering more soft drinks and paying for their pizza. “Perhaps with reference to a seam of granite?”

“Granite?” said Harry overhearing as he came back to the table. “In police work it’s wise to never take anything for granite,” joked Stanley, which made them all laugh. Irene signed her name to Harry’s statement under Stanley’s and Harry’s names, then Harry wrote down everything Eleanor could remember about that day. Paperwork was then packed away into Stanley’s briefcase and he and Irene set off along the avenue that led off the small lane to find the Police Station, which Christopher had said was the front section of an old school building. Chris had also said a large playing field beyond the old school had occasionally served as a helicopter landing spot a couple of decades ago, when overseas tourists had come to Shark Cove “all puffed up with self-importance’” declaring their intention to shoot movies here. They had tried to bluff their way into free lunches and beer and Chris had put a stop to that foolishness right away. The supposed film producers hung around for a week or so, he’d said, but took off pretty quickly when the locals made it known they were clearly unimpressed by their complete lack of ability to even take a decent photo. He’d added, “June Gardiner, she’s the librarian here, told them where they could stuff their passports, and they were gone right after that.”

Irene had asked about the library and they learned it was in one of the old school buildings, behind but not attached to the main building where the Police Station took up the front three rooms. Finding the building with no trouble at all, they walked in the front door and dinged the bell on the counter. A slightly overweight balding man came hurrying in and looked very surprised to see Inspector Stanley, who was equally surprised. “Roger!,” he exclaimed. ‘So this is where you ended up. I’ve been meaning to find out and come and see you, but you know how that goes, something happens, then something else comes up.” "I know that so well,” said Roger. “How have you been Stan? And who is this lovely young detective you’ve brought with you?” Stanley introduced Irene, adding to her that Roger Stevenson had once been Stanley’s partner on a case where it seemed they did nothing more than sit in their car and stare at jewellery shops for weeks, after information from an informant had said those particular shops were targeted.

Roger said, “Just let me get rid of this bucket of bleach, I’ve been mopping out the toilets, then I’ll be right back and we can get down to business. I take it you are here on business? That skeleton up at Littleton?” “That’s the one,” said Stanley,” and maybe some information on a couple of other things from years ago. There may be a tie-in that could break the case for us.” “Righto,” said Roger, pushing the mop bucket back through the door.