Congratulations to the winners.
I know I'm not supposed to do this, but I couldn't resist it.
Spectator Noir
The bodies were thick on the ground. Each held a crumpled paper in his fist, but rigor mortis was making it difficult to extract them. In the end, the fingers had to be broken, which also made it possible to fingerprint the victims and identify them.
Chief Inspector Alban Girral read out the list of names. “Basil Ransome-Davies ... Bill Greenwell ... Chris O’Carroll ... John Whitworth ... Frank MacDonald ... Hmmm - some of those names seem to ring a bell. What do you make of them, Sergeant?”
Sergeant Bill Arragan scratched his head. “Dunno, Chief. Were they all-in wrestlers, maybe?”
“No, looking at them, I would hardly think so. Although in view of where they’ve been found, they could well be connected to Spectator sports.”
“What’s on the papers, Chief?”
The Chief Inspector looked at one of the bloodstained fragments of paper. “My God, we’ve got a signed confession! It says ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE, WAR AND COMPETITIONS - BLAIR RAGLAN.”
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