Yahtzee Roll 1: Fill 4: Miss Marple: Gen
Mar. 27th, 2024 04:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stonepicnicking_okapiTitle: A strange bequest
Fandom: Miss Marple - Agatha Christie
Rating: Gen
Length: 500
Prompt: pretentious
Notes: References to the Sherlock Holmes story "Silver Blaze"
Summary: Miss Marple is summoned to a London solicitor's office.
Miss Marple and Dolly Bantry were ushered into the London solicitor’s office as soon as they arrived. Miss Marple kept her expression neutral, but she saw on her friend’s less guarded countenance her own appraisal of the establishment.
It was pretentious. It suggested expense and ostentation without anything solid beneath the luxury.
Miss Marple was reminded of the renovations her own solicitor young Mister Petherick had made to his offices upon the death of his father. Miss Marple knew that they were in keeping with the styles of the day, but she couldn’t really embrace the change or feel comfortable on the rare occasions she visited his office.
Oh, well, she thought, it was the prerogative of the old to grumble.
She wondered what awaited her. She couldn’t think of why she’d been summoned, and Dolly had agreed to accompany her, partly out of curiosity, partly because Thompson & Morgan, purveyor of seeds, bulbs, and other garden delights were having a sale.
“We act for the late John Straker.”
Oh. Well, that shed some light on things.
“I did Mister John Straker a small service many years ago,” said Miss Marple. “There were some accusations related to the stable of race horses he maintained. The misunderstanding was cleared up, and Mister Straker was grateful for my assistance. I wasn’t aware he’d died.”
“Yes, he was fatally injured at his home. I am given to understand it was an accident with one of the horses.” The solicitor’s face bore a look of professional gravity. “We are entrusted to give you this.”
The solicitor produced a small box and set it the far side of the desk.
Miss Marple leaned forward. She looked momentarily at Dolly, whose was clearly hoping for some kind of treasure.
Dolly was destined to be disappointed.
The solicitor opened the box and laid the items out, one by one, on the desk: a box of matches, a short piece of candle, a tobacco pouch and pipe, a silver watch, five sovereigns in gold, an aluminum pencil case, some papers, and an ivory-handled knife with a short blade.
“It looks like he bequeathed you that contents of his pockets, Jane,” observed Dolly.
“Precisely,” said Miss Marple. This was not, in fact, the first time a wealthy eccentric man had put something odd for her in his testamentary disposition, and it would not, in fact, be her last.
“We need to go to Dartmoor,” said Miss Marple. Dolly opened her mouth, but Miss Marple raised a hand. “After you get the cream tea I promised and two full hours at Thompson & Morgan."
“And why are we going to Dartmoor?” asked Dolly.
“To find out how John Straker was murdered.”
The solicitor looked alarmed. “Madame…”
“Mister Straker was an avid reader of detective stories, especially those involving horses. These are a clue that he was murdered. Perhaps by a horse. Perhaps not. Nevertheless, he wants me to investigate.”
“The game’s afoot,” suggested Dolly.
“Something like that,” replied Miss Marple.
Fandom: Miss Marple - Agatha Christie
Rating: Gen
Length: 500
Prompt: pretentious
Notes: References to the Sherlock Holmes story "Silver Blaze"
Summary: Miss Marple is summoned to a London solicitor's office.
Miss Marple and Dolly Bantry were ushered into the London solicitor’s office as soon as they arrived. Miss Marple kept her expression neutral, but she saw on her friend’s less guarded countenance her own appraisal of the establishment.
It was pretentious. It suggested expense and ostentation without anything solid beneath the luxury.
Miss Marple was reminded of the renovations her own solicitor young Mister Petherick had made to his offices upon the death of his father. Miss Marple knew that they were in keeping with the styles of the day, but she couldn’t really embrace the change or feel comfortable on the rare occasions she visited his office.
Oh, well, she thought, it was the prerogative of the old to grumble.
She wondered what awaited her. She couldn’t think of why she’d been summoned, and Dolly had agreed to accompany her, partly out of curiosity, partly because Thompson & Morgan, purveyor of seeds, bulbs, and other garden delights were having a sale.
“We act for the late John Straker.”
Oh. Well, that shed some light on things.
“I did Mister John Straker a small service many years ago,” said Miss Marple. “There were some accusations related to the stable of race horses he maintained. The misunderstanding was cleared up, and Mister Straker was grateful for my assistance. I wasn’t aware he’d died.”
“Yes, he was fatally injured at his home. I am given to understand it was an accident with one of the horses.” The solicitor’s face bore a look of professional gravity. “We are entrusted to give you this.”
The solicitor produced a small box and set it the far side of the desk.
Miss Marple leaned forward. She looked momentarily at Dolly, whose was clearly hoping for some kind of treasure.
Dolly was destined to be disappointed.
The solicitor opened the box and laid the items out, one by one, on the desk: a box of matches, a short piece of candle, a tobacco pouch and pipe, a silver watch, five sovereigns in gold, an aluminum pencil case, some papers, and an ivory-handled knife with a short blade.
“It looks like he bequeathed you that contents of his pockets, Jane,” observed Dolly.
“Precisely,” said Miss Marple. This was not, in fact, the first time a wealthy eccentric man had put something odd for her in his testamentary disposition, and it would not, in fact, be her last.
“We need to go to Dartmoor,” said Miss Marple. Dolly opened her mouth, but Miss Marple raised a hand. “After you get the cream tea I promised and two full hours at Thompson & Morgan."
“And why are we going to Dartmoor?” asked Dolly.
“To find out how John Straker was murdered.”
The solicitor looked alarmed. “Madame…”
“Mister Straker was an avid reader of detective stories, especially those involving horses. These are a clue that he was murdered. Perhaps by a horse. Perhaps not. Nevertheless, he wants me to investigate.”
“The game’s afoot,” suggested Dolly.
“Something like that,” replied Miss Marple.
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