stonepicnicking_okapi: letters (letters)
[personal profile] stonepicnicking_okapi posting in [community profile] vocab_drabbles
Title: Fox's Arson Case
Fandom: Inspector Alleyn - Ngaio Marsh
Author: [personal profile] stonepicnicking_okapi
Rating: Gen
Word Count: 550
Characters/Pairings: Fox & Alleyn
Warnings: None
Summary: At the beginning of Artists in Crime, Alleyn writes: Fox has written regularly. He seems to have done damn well over that arson case. So this is a letter from Fox to Alleyn about the arson case.


Dear Chief Detective-Inspector Alleyn,

Thank you for your recent postcard. It has pride of place on my desk, and many of the lads have remarked on it. Everyone at the Yard sends their good wishes.

Your absence is always felt, but the gap has been acutely noted this past fortnight. The most extraordinary case of arson has presented itself, and I think it will be of interest to you. Here are the details:

The fire brigade was called to the home of Mister and Mrs. John Smith. It was determined that the cause of the fire was a gas explosion. The body of Mrs. Smith was recovered, but Mister Smith—the couple has no children and no one else living in the house with them—was out. He had an appointment with his accountant, then his dentist, then he visited a car showroom to discuss the purchase of a new vehicle. All these were verified. The couple’s relationship, while reportedly not very warm in general, had suffered no recent injuries. This was according to Mrs. Smith’s twin sister who visited Mrs. Smith every day like clockwork at eleven o’clock. It turns out on the day of the explosion the sister had left town to visit her son; her first trip away from home in more than two decades. The death of Mrs. Smith was declared an accident, but the sister visited me at the Yard—apparently my name has appeared alongside yours in some of Mister Nigel Bathgate’s accounts of our investigations—and implored me to have a look. She suspected her brother-in-law of causing the accident. Apparently, there had been an incident with gas in her mother’s home twenty-four years ago. No one had been killed, the explosion was too small, but she had suspected her brother-in-law of trying to kill her mother. She struck me as a most sensible individual, so I pledged to take a gander at the situation.

I visited the site of the explosion, and through some careful grunt work—I will not charge the Yard with the replacement of my ruined suit, but the thought did cross my mind—I was able to uncover the gas fitting. It had most curiously lodged in the charred remains of a mounted trout. Cherchez le poisson! Then, I was able to show that the fitting had been tampered with. When we brought Smith in, it was a bit of bluff work on my part, including the invention of a tiresome Mrs. Fox, but the nut cracked, as they say. Smith confessed. Apparently, he had been planning the murder of his wife for twenty-four years. What a hobby. He strangled her, then staged the explosion to cover the killing.

I dare say Smith thought himself the Napoleon of crime, but gas is a notoriously unreliable accomplice. Any professional villain could have told him that. At any rate, he consulted nothing but his own vivid imagination. How well I know that it doesn’t do to play a lone hand sometimes. There have been plenty of moments during the last months when I have longed for your consultation.

I look forward to your return and I remain yours respectfully, now, as a result of this successful resolution to the Smith case, Senior Detective-Inspector, but now, then, and ever your,

Fox
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