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stonepicnicking_okapiTitle: A Very un-English Murder
Fandom: Inspector Grant [Josephine Tey, specifically Book 1: The Man in the Queue]
Warning: Spoilers for the solution to the murder, including the murderer
Form: Pantoum
Length: 462
100 Fandoms prompt: .099 Unless
Notes: Upon a re-listen of The Man in the Queue, I got a bit tired of Grant going on an on about how un-English the murder was, so I expressed my displeasure in verse!
It was a very un-English murder.
Consider the weapon, a thin dagger.
Oh, wasn’t there a villain in the case!
The exceedingly sharp stiletto blade.
Consider the weapon, a thin dagger.
A thorough Englishman used a bludgeon.
The exceedingly sharp stiletto blade
indicated an Italian or Spaniard.
A thorough Englishman used a bludgeon.
An Englishwoman wouldn’t have the strength
indicated. An Italian or Spaniard
drove the blow from a position of rest.
An Englishwoman wouldn’t have the strength,
the foreign subtlety suggested. He
drove the blow from a position of rest,
pressed close against the victim in the queue.
The foreign subtlety suggested he
didn’t know English traditions. Did he
press close against the victim in the queue,
stab him ‘tween the ribs, for love or money?
Didn’t know English traditions, did he?
The queue was not a place to meet a man,
stab him ‘tween the ribs. For love or money,
Grant couldn’t figure it. So un-English!
The queue was not a place to meet a man
to murder. One needed an alien view.
Grant couldn’t figure it. So un-English.
He’d been blind, mistaken, and very wrong!
To murder one needed an alien view,
to do it, well, to do it so—save that
he’d been blind, mistaken, and very wrong!
Grant thought, dismissing possibilities.
To do it well, to do it so, save that
nonsense for another day. He’d been wrong!
Grant thought dismissing possibilities
his job. He had been very, very wrong!
Nonsense for another day! He’d been wrong.
The very English fat woman had done
his job. He had been very, very wrong.
She had waltzed in and confessed to it all.
The very English fat woman had done
the murder, made the many pieces fit
She had waltzed in and confessed to it all:
the knife from abroad, not English, but hers.
The murder made the many pieces fit.
Her story rang true: daughter to protect,
the knife from abroad, not English, but hers.
Grant had dismissed so much and so many.
Her story rang true: daughter to protect.
She’d seen a danger not to be dismissed.
Grant had dismissed so much and so many:
the woman who’d done it, the one who’d known.
She’d seen a danger not to be dismissed:
a landlady, too, had outsmarted Grant.
The woman who’d done it, the one who’d known
that knife. Blinded by all. Bested by all.
A landlady, too, had outsmarted Grant,
an Englishman who, in the end, cries—“But
that knife!” “Blinded by all. Bested by all.”
the reader groans and throws the book and sighs.
An Englishman, who, in the end, cries, “But
oh, wasn’t there a villain in the case?”
The reader groans and throws the book and sighs,
“It was a very un-English murder!”
Fandom: Inspector Grant [Josephine Tey, specifically Book 1: The Man in the Queue]
Warning: Spoilers for the solution to the murder, including the murderer
Form: Pantoum
Length: 462
100 Fandoms prompt: .099 Unless
Notes: Upon a re-listen of The Man in the Queue, I got a bit tired of Grant going on an on about how un-English the murder was, so I expressed my displeasure in verse!
It was a very un-English murder.
Consider the weapon, a thin dagger.
Oh, wasn’t there a villain in the case!
The exceedingly sharp stiletto blade.
Consider the weapon, a thin dagger.
A thorough Englishman used a bludgeon.
The exceedingly sharp stiletto blade
indicated an Italian or Spaniard.
A thorough Englishman used a bludgeon.
An Englishwoman wouldn’t have the strength
indicated. An Italian or Spaniard
drove the blow from a position of rest.
An Englishwoman wouldn’t have the strength,
the foreign subtlety suggested. He
drove the blow from a position of rest,
pressed close against the victim in the queue.
The foreign subtlety suggested he
didn’t know English traditions. Did he
press close against the victim in the queue,
stab him ‘tween the ribs, for love or money?
Didn’t know English traditions, did he?
The queue was not a place to meet a man,
stab him ‘tween the ribs. For love or money,
Grant couldn’t figure it. So un-English!
The queue was not a place to meet a man
to murder. One needed an alien view.
Grant couldn’t figure it. So un-English.
He’d been blind, mistaken, and very wrong!
To murder one needed an alien view,
to do it, well, to do it so—save that
he’d been blind, mistaken, and very wrong!
Grant thought, dismissing possibilities.
To do it well, to do it so, save that
nonsense for another day. He’d been wrong!
Grant thought dismissing possibilities
his job. He had been very, very wrong!
Nonsense for another day! He’d been wrong.
The very English fat woman had done
his job. He had been very, very wrong.
She had waltzed in and confessed to it all.
The very English fat woman had done
the murder, made the many pieces fit
She had waltzed in and confessed to it all:
the knife from abroad, not English, but hers.
The murder made the many pieces fit.
Her story rang true: daughter to protect,
the knife from abroad, not English, but hers.
Grant had dismissed so much and so many.
Her story rang true: daughter to protect.
She’d seen a danger not to be dismissed.
Grant had dismissed so much and so many:
the woman who’d done it, the one who’d known.
She’d seen a danger not to be dismissed:
a landlady, too, had outsmarted Grant.
The woman who’d done it, the one who’d known
that knife. Blinded by all. Bested by all.
A landlady, too, had outsmarted Grant,
an Englishman who, in the end, cries—“But
that knife!” “Blinded by all. Bested by all.”
the reader groans and throws the book and sighs.
An Englishman, who, in the end, cries, “But
oh, wasn’t there a villain in the case?”
The reader groans and throws the book and sighs,
“It was a very un-English murder!”
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