Stilton Slaughter: Albert Smith’s Culinary Capers Recipe 3 by Steve Higgs
English | 2020| Mystery/Thriller| ePUB | 3.3 MB
He lives in the south-east corner of England with a trio of lazy sausage dogs. Surrounded by rolling hills, brooding castles and vineyards, he doubts he will ever leave, the beer is just too good.
Baking. It can get a guy killed.
When retired cop, Albert, arrives in Stilton for a festival, he has cheese on his mind, but that’s not what he gets …
… arriving the morning after the factory and warehouse have been raided, all the stilton is gone, and the security guard, Dave, who bravely fought to stop the thieves, needs someone’s help to save the day.
With sidekick Rex Harrison, the failed police dog, at his side, our aging but sprightly hero will put his ear to the ground and his mind to work as he unravels the clues to this mystery.
Rex and Albert will be tested like never before in this quiet English town as they catch the first glimpse of a criminal mastermind at work.
Can they find the cheese in time to save the festival? Will Rex be able to smell the answer with all the stinky cheese around? It’s a race against time to solve this crime but is there something bigger going on? Can this really just be about some mouldy cheese?
‘Rex, the failed police dog, steals the show every time. His attitude and antics are hilarious and just add to the story!’
From Peterborough, Albert could have caught a bus to the small Cambridgeshire village of Stilton, but he’d had one too many encounters with chewing gum on his seat to even consider it. He also had to consider Rex Harrison, his dog, and how he might be most comfortable travelling.
The Mercedes E Class taxi was plentifully roomy in the back for man and dog and the boot held his bags with ease. It was twenty times the price, when compared to taking the bus, but at seventy-eight, comfort was a factor Albert was willing to pay for.
He’d gotten lucky with the driver, a man who owned German Shepherd dogs and thought Rex Harrison was a cracker of a beast, even if he were a bit on the big side for the breed. Other cab drivers might have refused to take the fare, given the clean up all the dog hair might require, but not so Gohar, a thin man of Pakistani descent with a permanent smile and upbeat disposition.
The ride took a little less than twenty minutes with Gohar acting as local tour guide to point out a few features along the way. They were on their way to the Stilton dairy where Albert would be learning all about the famous cheese. It had been a favourite nibble of his for many decades, usually served on a dry cracker with a glass of port to sip. Imagining the flavour in the back of Gohar’s cab, his mouth began to salivate, and as they came through the small village, he could see signs erected to celebrate the cheese.
There was to be a festival in two days’ time; his arrival timed quite deliberately when a small amount of research revealed the event.
A smile of anticipation flittered across Albert’s face; he’d never felt so free. Widowed for just more than a year, he missed his wife dearly, but the grief of her passing had faded with time and he no longer attempted to ask her questions in a forgetful moment. He was content to be who he was, and on this culinary trip he needed to please no one and obey no timetable other than the rising and setting of the sun.
His oversized German Shepherd dog, Rex Harrison, snored and grumbled, his head on Albert’s right thigh as the dog stretched across seventy-five percent of the back seat. He was a trained police dog who held a singular record as the only dog ever to be forced from the Metropolitan Police for having a bad attitude. Looking down at him reminded Albert that he did have one other being to consider and that there were, in fact, items in his daily schedule: Rex’s breakfast and dinner.
‘Nearly there,’ announced Gohar from the driver’s seat, flicking his eyes up to look at the old man via his rear-view mirror. ‘The dairy is just around the corner. Is that where you are staying?’ he asked, feeling surprised because he didn’t think it offered accommodation.
‘No, Gohar. Rex and I have boarding just across the street at the Crown Inn,’ Albert replied, looking through the front window to spy the dairy.