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The
Adventures of Artimus Crouch
and Albert Ellis
Crouch at Christmas Part 2
By: Kielan (Grade 4)
We walked down the smoggy streets of London. Some people were shouting:
“Get your Christmas Geese here!” and some were just welcoming their husbands and children home from a long day. After about 20 minutes of wishing we had hailed a cab, we arrived at
“I presume you are still wondering why I brought you here.”
“Yes.Why?” I said
“Him” he said, indicating a white door on his left with his index finger. I walked over and pushed it open. Inside lay a man on a grey bed. He was dead.
“And?” I prompted Crouch.
“Do you recognize him?”
“No….wait! Yes I do. That’s Stan! Stanley P. Jettingberg!! He was a co-pilot with me on almost every air battle.
“I knew he was a military man!”
“You said it was a matter of life and death.”
“Well I had to say that to get you to come. I wanted you to identify him”
“Well his name is Stanley Jettinburg.
I was about to move closer when I heard him say, “There is a deep gash in his back.”
“Someone murdered him?!” I said in shock.
“Yes, and I want you to help me find out who did it. I am a detective with Scotland Yard.” he said, pulling out a brown card that read Artimus, Barling Crouch, Detective, Scotland Yard.
“I will do anything I can to help.” I said.
“Get some rest tonight and I will meet you at Scotland Yard at 8:00 am sharp tomorrow morning.” said Crouch.
The next day I walked down to Scotland Yard and Detective Crouch was waiting out front. We entered the headquarters and there was an inspector in one corner photocopying fingerprints.
When he spotted us he stopped what he was doing and came directly towards us. Detective Crouch asked him if he had any more information about the murder.
“Yes, A neighbour heard shouting in a foreign language.”
“Odd, very odd.” said Crouch.
“Another thing, he was reading Twelfth Night at the time of the murder. We found this exact book splattered with blood about one meter away from the body. That is all the information we could find”.
“Thank you” said Inspector Crouch. We hailed a cab and about half way to the flat, Crouch asked, “Was there ever a time when you were not co-piloting with Stanley?”
“Yes, there was a short time when he was flying on his own. During that time he shot down another plane.”
“Was it a German plane called the Thunderbird?”
“Yes it was.” I said surprised.
We sat in silence till we reached his flat. He sat down, picked up his guitar and started to play.
“What on earth are you doing? I shouted at him. “We have a mystery to solve!”
“I have already solved it!” he said.
“How can that be? Who is the murderer? What was the motive?”
“The motive was revenge. You see, the Thunderbird was a very famous German plane flown by a very famous German pilot, Harckon Ravinavich. When Stanley shot down the plane he also killed Harckon. His wife, Anjeilena Ravinavich, also famous has just arrived in England. I believe his wife murdered Stanley in revenge for her husband’s death.”
“That is incredible” I said.
“I could not have done it without you”
And so ends the case of Crouch at Christmas: the fighter and the famous!
