Agent Nora and the Mysterious Herring Murders

Nora wandered about the fish smelling town looking for comfort and someone to share her worries, she passed by Amarie and LeeLees crystal and organic suppository shoppe, the two ladies were part time WPCs and part time sellers of jools and stuff. They were two long curly haired ladies with flowing flowery dresses and bare feet with rings on their toes that tinkled like fairy bells. People thought they were hippys, but they hid a rapier like wit and earthly knowledge far beyond their tender years. The ladies were wise and they were silly, they were merry and they were serious, a bit like Elves from Lothlorien. Nora thought they were probably her only female friends in the town, the ladies were making seed cake and were busy so Nora decided to come back later in the day.
On her way out she crashed into DI Petty on the way in, he looked down on her, a lock of his scarlet tresses flopping down over his eye. She had heard tales of Petty and a mysterious bunker he kept in his garage, where strange cries and shrieks could sometimes wake the locals from their sleep, it was said he made "videos", but no one had the courage to pry further, in case of rude rebuttal or tweeking. But Nora was beyond all restraint, she needed help, and DI Petty was known to have a 100% conviction rate.
This was her kind of guy.

Mrs Figg wrote:On her way out she crashed into DI Petty on the way in, he looked down on her, a lock of his raven tresses flopping down over his eye. She had heard tales of Petty and a mysterious bunker he kept in his garage, where strange cries and shrieks could sometimes wake the locals from their sleep, it was said he made "videos", but no one had the courage to pry further, in case of rude rebuttal or tweeking.

Actually, this cuts very close to reality (I hear), and it certainly captures that fear the whole situation engenders in those who would seek answers. It also seems to add credence to the belief that DI Petty was making two videos for distribution in Forumshire at the time.

You are a wicked woman, Mrs Figg.

he he! thanks Norc, glad you like it.


Orwell I am naughty, a bit.

Mrs Figg wrote:Orwell I am naughty, a bit.

Did you really say 'a bit'?

"Well?" said DI Petty, "what is it, I am meeting DI Eldo for a secret briefing". Nora had a memory flash of a very tall and irate Penguin standing over her that was gone in an instant, leaving her with a very tall and irate DI, and Scottish to boot. which is Quite Irate I can tell you. "erm DI Petty I was wondering if you being an ace detective an all you could see your way to helping a rookie in a bit of a pickle" she breathed, hopefully in a winsome and winning manner. "You got a cold or something?, "you are a bit horse", another image of Captain Ringo dressed as a piebald stallion flashed unwelcome into her brain. "meet us at the Docks tonight and we may have some answers for you girrrlie" he said, and stalked off swishing his Burberry Macintosh in a very manly way.
phew thought Nora, maybe the Dream Team will give me some answers to this fishy f***fest.

Mrs Figg wrote: ...another image of Captain Ringo dressed as a piebald stallion flashed unwelcome into her brain. "meet us at the Docks tonight and we may have some answers for you girrrlie" he said, and stalked off swishing his Burberry Macintosh in a very manly way.

Stop it... I've got a sore tummy now...

Agent Nora parked the squad car and walked to the Harbour, it was midnight, and only the sound of vomit hitting the ground and splashing up onto shoes and sometimes high heeled court shoes could be heard. It was a rough area. It was the kind of area your mother warned you about, or at least slightly concerned aunties. It was a place sailors and dock workers came to let their hair down, and get back sack and crack waxes.

Nora heard a ppppssst! from her left, and Mrs Figg stepped out of a shadow. Rather oddly Mrs Figg was wearing an eighteenth century highwaymans outfit. "I came to warn you, Agent Nora" she whispered, "you are getting up to your pretty neck in deep doodoo, stay away from those two DIs, they are not what they seem". Before Nora could utter a word, Mrs Figg swirled her cape in a rather over-theatrical manner and left stage right. Flipping heck thought Nora what the deuce is afoot. She noticed some of Mrs Figgs 18th century nonsense had rubbed off on her, and giving herself a mental shake, walked over to the waiting DIs.

I am trying to get away and do some other things, you know...

I hope you aren't implying that Petty and I are unrespectable, Mrs Figg!

I think she is.

Strewth!

I am DYING here!

An naaaaaw! to the description of me and Leelee, and yey for not stinking of fishy fisk! I'm glad Nora has someone seemingly almost sane people to call her friends.

And I love that Nora doesn't find anything odd about Petty's 100% conviction rate.

Nora tippy toed (and I mean tippy toed like a hobbit, which meant nearly silently apart from after pub closing) up to the looming hunched figures of the DIs, something was wrong with the way they were rolling from side to side, flapping their arms like, HUH! PENGUINS! wtf. Nora slunk into a convenient shadow and watched horrified as squarking squeeking sounds emerged from their. BEAKS !!!!!!!!???????? Nothing in police Proceedure Weekly had prepared her for six foot Penguins. Nora had seen enough, and legged it.

Later Nora was dozing after a nourishing beans on toast, (that would teach that shrimp guzzler, Biffo she thought, the squad car tomorrow is going to be a war of attrition), she realized with a jolt that the only person in Svalfart that knew Anything was Mrs Figg, (figures), the next day she rode over to Mrs Figgs (windows down) and knocked on the eel-shaped bell pull (giving a oddly strange thrill, but enough of that).
The barkeep Chris opened the door, and asked her if she wanted a lemonade or orange squash, as he wasnt convinced she was allowed alcohol. Nora looked at chris's friendly face and wondered not for the last time, what was going on under that jolly and easy going exterior.
Nora decided to tackle things head on, as subtlety didnt seem to work in Svalfart. "Chris" she said, does everyone in Svalfart have part time jobs?", "Yes" said Chris, squishing a BlackCheesyfeet fly, twixt finger and thumb. "I have a job in the local paper as ace reporter, I have even won awards for ace reporting", he cocked a thumb at the shining Mithril cup on the bar. Nora remembered with a pang of jealousy the Awards, and the fact she hadnt got one. it still stung, and she felt somehow like a kid pressing its snotty nose against a window, looking forever at a cosy club that she would never belong to or be accepted by. phew! that was a long one.
She realized that Mrs Figg hadnt got one either, not even a little one for most Dust Free Den of Iniquity. But then life was hard in Svalfart.

"Wow" said Nora begrudgingly, "So what does Farmer Dave do, when he is not crop rotating?" "Well, said Chris, "He is the author of some pretty famous fantasy books for kids, involving small talking furry animals", and Orwellian is a Troubadour at the King of Wedgiethalian court", DI Eldo runs a University course on being a Scarily Mature Teenager, and DI Petty edits films for Bollywood". "WPC Ally hunts Dragons and gives them fire proof mittens for winter". "Thats amazing" said Nora, and what does Mrs Figg do?", "Oh she runs a clandestine sport outfitters, exporting canoes and paddles to middle class kids in Cheshire".
Mrs Figgs is where people come to express themselves artistically and creatively without the poking finger of ridicule. "wow" is all Nora could say.
"But what about the circus costumes, and dressing up?", she said, a slowly creeping realization dawning. "Well " said Chris, "People come here to be free of all conventional restraint, and they express their inner longings with raiding the dress up box, and getting their groove on".
Nora had a lot to think about, but what the deuce was all this to do with the herring murders?
She decided to go to the horses mouth and ask.
Dobbin was largely silent, apart from steady chewing.

I can't breathe!

Mrs Figg was sat in the bar wrapped in a turban, a box of Loreals Strawberry blonde hair dye was on the counter, which she hastily hid from sight as Nora walked up to her. "Its about last night" said Nora, "I dont understand the connection between the penguins and the mysterious herring deaded".
Mrs Figg sighed and shifted in her seat, "its no mystery, Nora!" she said, its all connected. The thing is that when DI Petty and DI Eldo are Penguins they really commit to the role, and they happened to see some drunken sailors sitting on the dockside in a slumber. Being penguins they didnt understand the sailors were not their chicks, so being good parents they tried to feed them herring, the night was freezing and the herrings froze solid in their mouths, they were found like that the next morning".
Lights of dawning revelation shot through Noras bemused head, and she giggled for the first time in three months, "So thats what, Look to the Frost meant?". he he he!

The End

Awww, they were simply mothered to death! Now there's a twist!

Thanks Amarie I am glad you liked it, I hope no body was offended by being called a penguin or anything? it was all meant in fun. and no herrings were harmed in the making of this story.

I don't think anyone will leave this forum with their honor or reputation unscathed.
Then again, the truly honorable people with impeccable reputations would join the dark planet and not this silly place.

Tis an exceedingly silly place.

What a twist!

I loved this. And I knew I was on to something with the dye! Thanks for a hilarious and entertaining story, Mrs Figg.

Haha! dunno what to say! so random yet so fully thought through! loved it! xD

Thanks Eldo and Norc, glad you liked it.

I don't know if I should compare you to Tolstoy or Dickens, Mrs Figg, but with your strawberry blonde hair, you look like neither! Brilliant stuff! Your sense of humour is kind of unique, methinks.

Well you guys inspired me, with your bottomless sillypants antics, so its all thanks to you.