The Defective Detective : Murder On The Links - Plot & Excerpts
Clint – we couldn’t be arsed to carry you any further so when you wake up we’ll be in the bar getting shitfaced. Hope you managed to avoid getting hit. Dean. Narcolepsy has its drawbacks. Dropping off to sleep without a moment’s notice can be considered problematic but other times it can help you escape the clutches of a group of thunderous morons. I smiled as I stood up, the laxatives obviously hadn’t kicked in. But they would. I couldn’t decide whether to go and watch the consequences or just bugger off home. The freedom of the choice felt really good. A breeze caught me and sent sand blowing from my hair and clothes, a yellow cloud billowed gracefully towards the fairway before the wind changed and hurled the tiny stony grains into my open eyes. My hands shot up instinctively to rub them but it just made it worse. “Shit!” screamed a voice on the wind. “Duck!” A tiny projectile thudded into my left shoulder, knocking me off balance and sending me backwards into the bunker once more.
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