Twin brothers in their late forties, Ozzie and Boris Moss, had always been rivals who had followed different careers. Boris had joined the local police force in Oxfordshire and over the years had been promoted to Detective Inspector. Ozzie, on the other hand, had become a dodgy second hand car dealer in Bedfordshire, with various different sidelines about which his brother had his suspicions. However as Ozzie was not on his patch Boris had never bothered investigating him, until recently when he suspected Ozzie was also possibly dealing in drugs.
Ozzie lived modestly, as would befit a second hand car dealer, but had a second identity under which he had become a property tycoon, saving his ill-gotten gains in an off shore account until he had amassed enough to leave the country and start his retirement at fifty. That was the plan. When his brother Boris confronted him about his dodgy deals, Ozzie laughed and fobbed Boris off with various reasons as to how he could afford to be driving a flashy car. However, he realised that Boris would start investigating him so decided he had to get him out of the way.
Meanwhile Boris’s wife was invited to a hen night. Her car wouldn’t start, so Boris lent her his car for the evening so she could go out with her friends while he stayed home watching the Olympics. She drove to Milton Keynes where she parked her husband’s car outside her friend’s house on an estate before walking in with her to join their friends at Xscape where they were going to spend the evening.
As it happened Ozzie was out that night, also in Milton Keynes, delivering a car to a punter, when he spotted his twin brother’s car parked up. He had his chance. Before delivering the car he stopped a short distance away and walked back to his brother’s car with the handy took kit kept in the car. It didn’t take long for him to loosen the wheel nuts on one wheel on Boris’s car, before he carried on to the punter’s house. After a few minutes his mechanic arrived to give him a lift back to Bedfordshire.
“What kept you?” he asked.
The mechanic just laughed and said “I got lost on all those ruddy roundabouts. I don’t drive as fast as you anyway.”
After a very pleasant evening out, Boris’s wife spent the night with her friend before driving home to Oxfordshire on the Saturday morning. She was a bit late getting up so was driving faster than she normally would, in order to get her husband’s car back to him before he needed it to go to the village football field, where he helped to train the local lads.
She approached a roundabout a bit faster than she should have done, braked hard and ended up skidding along the road and into the path of an oncoming lorry. She didn’t stand a chance. She died immediately.
Of course, with his wife’s death happening in an area not on Boris’s patch, it was not he who was in charge of investigating her death. The Coroner recorded her death as being accidental, but Boris was not happy with that. He knew his car was in good working order and also that his wife was an experienced driver. He couldn’t understand why the wheel would have come off on impact. He insisted in there being a further investigation, but the detective in charge of the investigation said there was no evidence to suggest that the car had been tampered with.
Boris decided it was up to him to make his own investigations. To do so he took bereavement leave that was suggested by his counsellor.
Creative Writing July homework: Synopsis of the Detective Story
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