A Gentleman’s Wager

A Gentleman’s Wager, now available for pre-order!



Just wanted to let you know that I published a short cozy mystery.

It’s called A Gentleman’s Wager, and it’s available for 99 cents American at all the major booksellers, and soon, in your local (electronic) library.

St. Drogo’s Gentlemen’s Club has always been a leisurely place for pensioners to spend their days. When a much beloved member is murdered in the club, the men turn to their resident puzzle expert, and make a wager over whether he can figure out who the murderer is before the police do.

I’m including a short excerpt below; part of an exchange between the narrator and the Police Inspector sent to investigate. If this floats your boat, why not give it a read? And if you like it, I would greatly appreciate a review. Links follow the excerpt.

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The inspector was a bespectacled man of around forty years,

with hair and mustache just beginning to go grey. He looked both official and officious in his smartly pressed uniform. “Thank you sir. Inspector Riley Chesterton. And your name is?” the inspector asked as I got there.

“Jacobs, sir. Roland Jacobs.”

The inspector had a notebook in hand. He leafed back several sheets, and read through his notes before proceeding to write something on a new sheet.

“I regret to inform you, Mr. Jacobs, that your fellow club member, Mr. Arthur Perkins —”

“Has been murdered,” I finished. “Yes. I only just heard.”

The inspector lowered his notebook and pushed his bifocals up the bridge of his nose to study me the better. “Pity, that. I should have liked to see your reaction to hearing the news.”

“I can tell you my reaction, sir. I’m dumbfounded. I can’t imagine anyone wanting him dead. And the idea of a murderer in our little town is preposterous. Are you certain it’s murder?”

“Quite so. Unless you can explain how Mr. Perkins drove the knife into his own back?”
I was aghast, and my countenance must have conveyed as much. “Ah, that’s the reaction I was looking for.” The inspector made some further notes in his book. “Now, I’ve been told, Mr. Jacobs, that you were among the last to see Mr. Perkins alive. Is that correct?”

“We did share a round of billiards yesterday evening, but having no idea when or where he died, I couldn’t say whether I was the last to see him.”

“And what was the outcome of this game?”

“Well, it wasn’t my night. He beat me soundly.”

“Turns out it wasn’t his night either, wouldn’t you say, Mr. Jacobs? Now, was there a wager on the result of the match? Do be honest, please. I will find out.”

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Thanks for reading. We’ll be back to the usual free flash fiction on Thursday.

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