The Storyteller is on the Case!

 

The body lay on its back in the Library of Cottering Castle, .  The Dewitter family stood around in shock gazing at the corpse.

Lady Dewitter, a rather striking figure with jet black hair piled high on her head and piercing green eyes blinking rapidly, absentmindedly picked up the tape measure lying at her feet,  took a deep breath and turned to her husband, hunched miserably in the corner, clutching the Daily Meddler to his chest - the headline - "Carpet Firm in trouble - RR stocks running out" could just be seen.

"Who is it?" she cried.  "Who is this dead person lying in the middle of our library floor?"

Lord Dewitter shook his bald head and fingered his red and purple tie. Unable to meet his wife's eyes,  he muttered:

"I know not, m'dear, but whoever it is, he has made a pretty mess of our very posh and expensive Axminster carpet with its zig-zaggy bright red pattern on a brown background."

Prunella and Priscilla, the Dewitter twins, one dressed in a red dress and the other in a yellow affair with purple squiggles, started to giggle.

"Be quiet!" shouted their mother.  "This is not a matter for amusement, girls, and, if you cannot behave appropriately, you must go to your room."

Prunella and Priscilla put their hands over their mouths and looked away.

Lady Dewitter looked at her husband.  She looked a little more closely.  

"Is that a new tie you've got on?"  she asked.  "Thought you had your plain purple one on this morning...oh well.  Should we call the Police, d'you think?" 

"Um...no...um...I don't think so...um...m'dear," wittered Lord Dewitter (oh, so that's where he got his name from then - was beginning to wonder). "Best left alone, methinks.  Tell you what, m'dear, there's that little old man who lives at the bottom of the lane - now, um...what's he called?  Um...er...oh yes, The Storyteller!  Now, HE might have an idea!"

Prunella and Priscilla started to giggle again.  The very thought of that little old man with his grey whispy curls, wobbly glasses on the end of his red, bobbly nose, having any kind of idea at all was...well...just HYSTERICAL!

Their mother turned sharply and pointed to the door.

The girls scurried out and could be heard hurtling up the staircase to their room.

Lord Dewitter, still unable to meet his wife's eyes,  shuffled to his desk and hurriedly shoved his stocks and shares which were spilling out of a drawer, back into the drawer and  scurried after them, grabbing his greatcoat and his wellies on the way (it was pouring with rain you see) and loped  off down the lane.

Lady Dewitter, wandered over to the desk and tried to shut the drawer but couldn't so, went over to the big library chair, sat down to wait and studied the body.  It was that of a young man, dressed in pink jeans and a yellow t-shirt with "Ragged Robin" printed on the front.  He had purple hair, cut in a mohican style crowning a rather pointy, prickly kind of face.  She couldn't quite see how he had died, although there was a big pool of blood staining the very posh and expensive Axminster carpet, with its zig-zaggy bright red pattern on a brown background, beneath him and the handle of some kind of knife could just be seen poking out from under his yellow t-shirt.

Soon a galloping, galloshing sound could be hear coming up the great drive.  Lady Dewitter got up to look out of the window.  There, bouncing along in great flying leaps were her husband and The Storytelling, splashing and splishing through the puddles as they flew up the drive, The Storyteller's long red coat flying behind him like a cape and his yellow hat flopping and flipping madly in the rain.

They came sloppily into the Library and stood, dripping rainwater onto the very posh and expensive Axminster carpet, with its zig-zaggy bright red pattern on a brown background (thus annoying Lady Dewitter even more) looking at the body.

 "Harrumphf!" exclaimed The Storyteller (a new expression he was trying out but which really wasn't working that well - hence the startled look he got from the Dewitters). 

He walked squashily around the body, eyeing it from every angle.  He bent down and took a closer look at the pointy, prickly face, now pale against the purple hair. 

Priscilla and Prunella, by this time, had crept back into the Library, having watched their father and The Storyteller's approach along the Great Drive.

The Storyteller walked around the family, eyeing them closely

"I know just who he is," he finally pronounced firmly. " I know just how he died and who killed him!  The person who killed him had two motives, not one!"

The Dewitters looked at him in amazement.

"How...how...do...do...you know that?" spluttered Lord Dewitter.

 

Have you worked it out yet?

In case you hadn't, here are the clues:

1.  The headline "Carpet Firm in Trouble - RR Stocks running out".

2.  The "new" tie.

3.  The pattern on the carpet and the logo on the body's t-shirt (robin colours and ragged!).

4.  The Stocks and Shares.

5.  The knife.

6.  The tape-measure.

 The Storyteller had put 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6 together (well, he couldn't put 5 together until he had pulled out the knife and seen just what sort of knife it was!).  

Lord Dewitter had been reading about how the firm who had made his very posh and expensive Axminster carpet was in trouble due to lack of the RR carpet.

He had red splashes on his tie.

He had been checking his stocks and shares.

The t-shirt had the logo Ragged Robin on it (RR? The Storyteller was certain that Ragged Robin was the name given to the zig-zaggy bright red pattern on a brown background of the very posh and expensive Axminster carpet.

The knife turned out to be a carpet fitter's knife.

Are you there yet?

The Storyteller told the following tale.

Lord Dewitter had come down that morning to get his daily paper.  There he saw that the carpet firm who had made his...oh you know the rest...was in trouble.   He had bumbled into the Library to check his stocks and shares and found that he was a major shareholder in the firm.  As he turned in despair he noticed the young man preparing to cut into his carpet.

Already in shock from the news that he was likely to lose a heck of a lot of money, Lord Dewitter leaped onto the young man, grabbed the knife and held it to his throat.

The young man squirmed and squiggled and shouted that he was only following orders.  The carpet firm had given instructions to its carpet fitters to go out and get back all the Ragged Robin carpets they had already sold in order to supply new customers.

Lord Dewitter had, in fury at not only losing his money but also his very posh and expensive...oh for heaven's sake do I have to repeat that EVERY time?..., stabbed the young man in the back (getting blood and gore all over his plain purple tie into the bargain) and had gone off into the corner to hunch - which is where we found him.

Conclusion: