[Rob Stuart]

Yes, for some reason it kept inserting an extra space when I uploaded it. Sorted now.

[Nigel Mace]

Excellent, Rob - the combination of solemn and unprincipled recalls relevant people I have known.

[George Simmers]

Saudi Noir
'Take your time,' Firas told the small imam, stifling a yawn. Some days he regretted being promoted from the murder squad to this more important work of detecting women drivers.
The imam stared at the line-up of seven women, veiled in identical black burqas.
'These are the wives of Ibn Hakim,' said Firas patiently. 'Which one was driving his car?
The Imam hesitated, then said eagerly: 'Let me speak to all of them, to give enlightenment that driving is for a woman haram, for it is written...'
A shot rang out from somewhere behind Firas. One of the wives was hurled back by a bullet's impact, and the others screamed.
Firas raced forward to the figure now motionless on the ground. He gestured to one of the other wives to lift the veil, then gasped in astonishment. This was no wife, but Ibn Hakim himself. Life had become more interesting.

[Graham King]

Iron Noir (Steampunk crime fiction)

Captain Falcongetter’s brassbound mahogany prosthetics clanked on
deck, hissing manfully, as his smoke-smudged, diversely augmented crew hauled the signalling investigators’ royal blue air-launch alongside then secured the telescoping gangplank. ‘Greetings, Officers.’
Boarding, beardless Lieutenant Bullwrench casually touched his tricorn with a braid-edged linen glove. He reserved formal salutes for captains of naval airships, not disreputable merchantmen like the Bolstered Bulwark. ‘Captain, you’re missing your First Mate, Jasper Inchfirkin?’

‘How-’

‘Identifying documents among his… remains. You might say he gate-crashed yesterday’s Royal Garden Party, Sir. Evidently, from a not inconsiderable height not unadjacent to your then cruising altitude- established by Greenwich Observatory. You alone were seen overhead.’

Falcongetter sighed: ‘Jasper was… liaising… with Honoria Aspersion of the Cloudpiercing Sorority, aboard her own craft, far higher. Need I explain Terminal Velocity? He’d have attained maximum falling speed long before passing us.’

‘Hmm. Accident? Suicide? Or… lover’s quarrel?’

[John Whitworth]

I love Jasper Inchfirkin. I read a novel once that contained a character called Vilebastard though I can't remember his Christian name or even how exactly you were to pronounce it. (VillybatARD?)

[Graham King]

Thanks, John! I had fun with the names.
Those for the next piece (my fourth and last submitted before deadline) exercised me more. I felt I had to leave the victim unnamed, as the nickname we now know him by.. is of our own generation's devising. To call him by it would be anachronistic and give the game away, whereas to call him something else could be distracting.

(Hmm. Should I have used 'plaits' instead of 'braids'? ...Ladies?)


Karela’s braids whip in alpine afternoon chill. Fists knot: “Late. Late. Late.”
Justiciar Erdeweise leans close also; over the fur-clad, tattooed shepherd damp with melt-water, soon to refreeze: “Yes… days past. Don’t fret; you couldn’t have done more. Kinfolk?”
“He’s none known. He settled from the northeast, ten years ago...” She shakes, not merely cold: “Murderers.”
“I’m… uncertain of that…” Erdeweise raises one palm, quelling protest: “I know: ‘kindly; respectable herder; quiet’. But… some secret bloodguilt, long borne? Those strangers, spotted trailing him, maybe wrought fair vengeance.”
“Arrow to his shoulder? While fevered? No honourable challenge!”
“He’d made for the pass; seemingly, knew himself pursued. Fleeing- why?”
“Ach! ...Must we leave him, so?”
“There’s not time before dusk. Tomorrow…”
But suddenly Karela knows: this high cold sleep will endure far longer…
“Whoever next sees him… slain, alone, here… will they think us savages?”

[Brian Allgar]

Eh? I don't think I get it at all, Graham. Buit maybe I turned thick overnight. Clues welcome.

[Graham King]

Originally Posted by Brian Allgar

Eh? I don't think I get it at all, Graham. Buit maybe I turned thick overnight. Clues welcome.

The cause may well be obscurity on my part, not density on yours, Brian!

Ötzi is a well-preserved natural mummy of a man who lived about 3,300 BC. The mummy was found in September 1991 in the Ötztal Alps, hence 'Ötzi'.
I sought to keep my speculation in accord with what has so far been found out or deduced about his person, lifestyle and demise.

The idea of a district investigating officer or 'Justiciar' back then, there, is unfounded so far as I know, but where hunter-gatherers and pastoralists may have mingled, occasional conflicts of interest seem to me likely, and so a framework of laws and a recognised dispassionate law-person would seem both desirable and plausible. Ordinary citizens and especially blood-relatives would surely also have a role to play.