The Gottle Party
A Budleigh Salterton Mystery
The Reverend Budleigh Salterton was feeling pleased with himself. His speech at the Muddling-on-Sea “ Ecclesiastical Search For A Star” conference had gone down well.
“Where Would You Be , If The Lord Had Turned Up Early” had, undoubtedly, ruffled a few feathers, particularly amongst those who had turned up late to the gig, but on the whole, the applause had tickled “Rapturous” on the clapometer …
Leigh was especially pleased with his gimmick . All his bullet points were written on blank faced playing cards. As he progressed through the speech , he passed the cards from hand to hand . Every time he had half a dozen “used” cards in his left hand , he fanned them , coloured backs facing the audience , before dropping them theatrically into a wooden collection box on the small table beside him.
When he got to the line he pinched from Dave Allen , “ Goodnight , and may your God go with you” , he picked up the box , tilted it towards the audience and shook it.
The confetti inside the box showered the front row, otherwise it was completely empty. The Reverend looked sheepish, shrugged his shoulders and simply said. “Oops!” before leaving the stage.
He was still chuckling the next day. Sitting at a worn rattan table in the garden of Sylvia Scarlett’s Theatrical Guest House , he was sipping tea and was about to catch up with the local newspapers when a voice boomed “Budleigh Salterton ... I haven’t seen you since we were on tour together , what, twenty years ago ?”
The voice belonged to Ventriloquist , Billy Grinn , and seemed to be coming from Leigh’s MidWinter teapot.
In fact , Grinn was seated at a table over by the back wall , and was hidden behind an old copy of The Stage.
“Billy Grinn” said Leigh “ What are you doing here ?” This was not so obvious as it seems. Although Muddling had two piers which still ran traditional variety shows , the season ended in late September and it was now approaching the end of October.
The trippers and caravan dwellers had migrated inland , away from the bracing winds and high tides which this part of the coast was equally famous for.
October and November attracted speciality conferences and conventions, and that was usually all the weather would allow till March.
“ I got lucky and married the girl, old sport” Billy went on , joining Leigh at his table.
By this , he meant that he had finally managed to get Sylvia , his long time love interest , to agree to marry him.
The terms and conditions included him giving up touring and helping run the guest house.
“ What’s your story , then , Leigh ?” Billy asked , eyes nodding towards the discarded dog collar beside the crockery.
“ Funny Vicar ? Not much call for that in the clubs these days …”
Leigh chuckled again “ Not the clubs , matey…” Now it was his turn to nod at the dog collar “ That’s the day job”.
Billy’s eyebrows raised like the Cheeky Charlie dummy he used in his act.
“ You’re a real vicar ? Bugger me …”
“Yep , that’s me … saw the light after a bad night in Sunderland and decided I wanted to give something back.”
“But you’re still keeping your hand in ?” said Billy , noticing the deck of cards on the table.
“ Well , I’m not a poker fanatic anymore … I might be seen to have an unfair advantage “ Leigh responded , casting his eyes heavenwards “ But I still have a few tricks up my sleeve , which folks hopefully find entertaining …”
As Bud Salt , Leigh had been in great demand as a comedy magician ,before his conversion on the road to Darlington around fifteen years earlier. His glamorous assistant Philippa , never understood why he called time on the act. As Salt and Pippa they had never been without work.
When Leigh admitted that he felt he had been called , she picked herself up , dusted herself down and started all over again.
As Pippa Day , she had found favour with cruise audiences around the world and there was always talk of a TV opportunity whenever they bumped into each other.
Nowadays Leigh tended to use his expertise with cards to add a little pizzazz to his sermons and occasional lectures.
Billy was still stunned by his old pal’s new incarnation.
“ What about the Miss Marple stuff , Bud ? Does that still feature in your repertoire ?”
“Don’t let him fool you, “ said a voice from the shrubbery nearby.
It came from Sylvia Scarlett , who had been working in the flower bed with a small spade and fork.
“ He knew you were coming. He saw your name in the bookings diary and he has been itching to talk to you “
Leigh nodded to Sylvia and then laughed out loud before continuing.
“ It was only ever a hobby, Billy , and you know that some people didn’t like me meddling ”
“ D.I. Sixsmith ? “ Billy suggested.
“ Yep , Terry Sixsmith never did like amateurs on the case …”
“ He rolled up here a few weeks back.” Billy told him “ He’s retired from the force now , but he travels around lecturing on witchcraft and other weird stuff he’s come across…”
They both laughed. Leigh had always been fascinated by criminology. Unfortunately he enjoyed the escapades of TV detectives even more and irritated the local constabulary by offering a viewpoint on local mysteries more often than they liked.
When he had taken up a full time position as vicar at St.Bernard’s in Muckley , he found that he sometimes had the time and inclination to meddle more often. The police disliked meddling vicars even more than they had disliked meddling magicians … but in Leigh’s book , that was just one more obstacle to overcome.
“ I’m still up for a mystery … Have you got any going cheap ?”
“ Funny you should say that , old sport “ said Billy , leaning in , furtively.
A couple of weeks earlier the annual Gottle Party had hit Muddling.
The east coast’s premier ventriloquism event was a must for anyone interested in the ancient art.
Highlights included a sing around while drinking a pint of beer on Friday night , A gala show on Saturday and an informal Skeak-Easy on Sunday lunchtime before the organisers said GoodGye till next year.
More than anything it was an opportunity for old hands to meet up with their pals and for newbies to challenge their peers in the Advanced Alphaget Competition on Saturday afternoon.
For Billy Grinn it was his chance to show the vent community that he’d still got it , and that Cheeky Charlie was still a contender.
As it was a home town gig , at Muddling’s Winter Gardens , Billy didn’t leave home till after four p.m on Saturday. He had a five minute slot half way through the first half of the evening show. It should have been easy.
All of his preparation had been about updating his dialogue to add in a few topical jokes and light hearted skits about the judging panel , who were all old friends. Two minutes to go and he flicked the catches on his case to reveal Cheeky Charlie … except what was in the case was Charlie’s body … minus his head.
Billy hadn’t thought to check his most important prop before he left home.
The dummy was always stored intact and was in perfect working order the last time Billy had performed , and he would never have dreamed that anyone else would interfere. Sylvia wanted as little as possible to do with Charlie. She found the interplay between her husband and the doll to be a little weird , so Billy’s annual trip to the Gottle Party was definitely a guilty pleasure which he always attended alone.
Ventriloquism as an art, depends upon a controlled direction of breath, to create the illusion of sound emanating from a different place. A ventriloquist with a headless dummy is something of a rebel without a cause. Billy had no Plan B and had to quietly excuse himself from the performance.
Although he was sure Sylvia would not have touched Charlie , he went through the motions of asking her , and of checking all the likely and unlikely places you might mislay a papier-mâché head.
All of this was to no avail. He resorted to looking through the Guest House records to see if anyone had been around who might hold a grudge.
The Ping Twins had been there that week , and Gorge Loft the tall unicyclist had been there.
None of these had ever been on the same bill as Billy and Charlie , and he couldn’t imagine why they would search for Charlie and steal his head.
Billy’s act was not really the sort to cause major offence to anyone. A bit of cheeky fun with people he had known for years but nothing worthy of a reprisal.
All the time that Billy was recounting his tale , Reverend Budleigh Salterton sat with his hands together as if praying. He said nothing for a long while and then he spoke.
“ I am fairly sure that I can identify the culprit , but first , select a card at random from the deck of cards on the table”
A few minutes later , Billy received a photo on his smartphone which showed Leigh holding up the card he had chosen.
“ Is that significant ?” Billy asked
“ Not at all , but it usually goes down well “said Leigh
“ Now , if you follow me , I will lead you to a conclusion.”
Ten minutes later they were stepping quietly through darkening woodland on the edge of Muddling-on-Sea.
“ Tonight is October 31st” whispered Leigh
“Halloween ? So what ?” asked Billy
“ Keep quiet and watch”
As they moved further into the wood , they became aware of a flickering glow and then of people dancing , naked in a clearing lit by burning torches.
A masked man in the middle of the group held something aloft before reaching for one of the torches and setting the object alight.
It flared brightly for a few moments before crumbling to ash.
The Reverend stepped forward and raised his hand.
“ It’s over Terry “ he said with authority “ Step away from the head !”
The masked man stopped in his naked tracks.
“ Budleigh Salterton … still meddling “ said the former Detective Inspector. “ I’m afraid you’re too late to save this cheeky chappie “
“ Cheeky Charlie is still alive in our hearts and minds, Terry. “
“ That’s right , Sixsmith” added Billy Grinn “ I made Charlie , and I can rebuild his head…and this time he will be flame retardant”
The naked dancers had disappeared , back to the car park and their discarded clothes.
Only Terry Sixsmith was left in the clearing . Humiliated and alone.
As Leigh and Billy walked away , Sixsmith thought he could hear the ashes at his feet singing …
“ I get knocked down …gut I get ukk again”…