Murder on the Village Green: A Diane Dimbleby Cozy Mystery by Penelope Sotheby

ties with her parents long ago. She is missing some of the people she had been ‘working with’, but she doubts that sense of loss will last long.
    Now in a place, small or large as it seems depending on the day, where nobody knows her, the possibilities seem endless. Her history has not followed her. She can be whoever she wants to be. The Protected Persons Service even helped her get set up with a job. It does not challenge her much, but it pays for rent and food. Whether she will stay there, find another job, or revert back to her crooked and high-paying ways remains to be seen.
    Most of the time she feels safe, like nobody from ‘before’ can touch her. But sometimes she finds herself looking over her shoulder…
    “Seems a shame cutting all this beautiful black hair,” says the hairdresser. “Is this your natural colour?”
    She nods her head yes, but asks the hairdresser to dye it red once she’s done cutting.
     
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    Superintendent Moore suspended Darrell for two weeks. Darrell knows he could have been given a far harsher reprimand for implicating Diane too deeply into a criminal investigation. Plus, the suspension has turned out not to be a punishment at all. It has given Darrell the chance to do more of the things he enjoys and misses out on, like going to Chloe’s football match and Jeremy’s art show, having a lunch date with his wife or going fishing with his father’s best mates.
    Today Darrell is sitting on the edge of the brook, fishing rod in hand, next to ‘Old Tom Walker’ and ‘Uncle Kenny’.
    “You should get suspended more often, lad,” says Tom.
    “Are you trying to say you’ve missed me?” laughs Darrell.
    “That, and you always remember to bring the beer,” winks Kenny.
     
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    At tonight’s session of ‘mead and mystery,’ Diane and Albert are enjoying some chocolate brownies—they had each baked a pan—along with a few fingers of cognac.
    Albert sets down Diane’s latest chapters and smiles approvingly.
    “Your writing is as enticing as always,” he says. “I especially love the bit where you describe the lad falsely accused of vandalizing that Abbey in, what is the name of the town again? Shrewsbury—excuse me, I meant to say, Harridan…”
    “Are you suggesting my fiction is veering too close to reality?” Diane giggles.
    “I’m suggesting, my dear, that your reality is not only stranger, but also more electrifying than fiction! And I think we both know what the theme of your next book will be…”
     

Murder in the Neighbourhood - Chapter 1
     
    Anyone looking for day-to-day tranquillity would be more than happy to settle in Apple Mews. It is probably one of the most composed and calm villages in the county of Shropshire – at least from a bird’s eye view and at street level.
    By walking down Apple Mews’ main lanes you would see what you would expect in most English villages: a hotel and a pub, a church and a café, a primary school and a community hall that hosts Saturday night dances, craft fairs, suppers and even festivities for some of the long-time villagers’ milestone birthdays and anniversaries. Apple Mews also has a wee police station – it is only manned by one constable at a time. There is no need for a police force any larger, as the criminal element rarely punctures the homes, businesses, gardens and fields of Apple Mews.
    Place a harpist in the middle of the village green or a Japanese water fountain next to the pub and villagers might shake their heads at first, but they too would accept their presence as compatible with the ambience of their community.
    Diane Dimbleby is one of Apple Mews’ most prominent – and loved – citizens. Most of the villagers younger than she were taught by Diane at some point in their lives. Although she never let her students dilly dally, she encouraged them to reach their full potential, and for that she was a favourite teacher to most. Diane spent most