Could You Be a British Armchair Detective?

Fancy moving from armchair watcher to cosy detective in the shires? See how many of these traits you can tick to make the transition to the big time.

• You have inexplicable open-ended invitations to the stately homes of the upper classes. On any given day, we can find you guesting in someone’s country seat and at the centre of dashing intrigue.

• You also have impeccable references which no one ever has cause to question.

• If you’re a man, you will be "a professional" in some admirable industry. If you’re a woman you’ll be "that charming biddy" who enjoys watercress sandwiches, served with English teas in the best Royal Doulton china.

• You can name drop to the highest degree. “I really must ask Bertie to do something about the low country manners of this establishment. He is greatly appreciative of my efforts to help him with his speech impediment, you know.”

• You will run rings around any numpty detective who may be totally clueless as to the identity of the main culprit.

• Poppycocks, crackpots, and rascals are words that should be littered throughout one’s speech – although one shouldn’t say something as vulgar as "littered". "Sprinkled liberally" would be more culturally appropriate – although not as in cultural appropriation, which one may say in these times without being seen as attempting to purloin political gloriesse. That’s a word you just made up because you couldn’t think of the right term. You can do that. Make up words.

• For example, terms such as "baggeridge" and "fotheridge". No one will ever know you have just sprayed them out into the ethos, especially if done when eating fruit cake. “And it wathh suchth bagerighth for Lady Fotheridge, one would sthink all the bunniethsh had eshcaped..!”

• You dare say that, for authenticity, at least two characters should be called George and Mary. If one is pandering to American tastes, George is transatlantic so needs no changes, while Ethel makes a nice substitute for Mary.

• If both ladies’ names are in use, then Mary should be the lady of the house and that fellow George her husband. Ethel would be the old flame who has stepped in to smooch around illicitly after a long absence from George’s life.

• You’re very good at being the only one to hear a suspicious noise coming from the study late at night. And at calling out, “Ice aayy, iz enyone theyaww?”

• You can tell excellent time, as in “So tell me, Mr Holmes, where were you between 11.30am last Tuesday and the events that occurred in Haverton Hall at 7.47am this morning?”

• You have an uncanny sense for when someone has gotten their alibi wires crossed – no one visits the vicar on Wednesdays, for he allocates this entire day in private weekly intercourse with Mrs Hawtheby-Smythe.

• You have a lady on hand who takes morphine regularly and another can lay supine throughout the plot.

• You have contacts in the theatre. At least two are actors who keep lodgings with Mrs Hatfield over in Charing Cross. They’re a bit down on their luck at the moment and living on jellied eels, but thanks to the patronage of my good friend, Agatha, both are destined for big things.

• By the way, Agatha has an intriguing little detective mystery entitled “Ten Little Persons of Colour”. She hastened to amend it on your behalf after you offered pertinent advice on the original title.

  
  

• You’ve bought a few paintings off that odd working-class chappie, some initials Lowry. So, you certainly know a bit about stolen art disguised as a child’s drawing of their pet budgerigar.

• You always ask the suspect “How ahh yooh?” and some other perfunctory questions. This is to ensure they don’t realise just how much you like them for the murder.

• You can always gauge when a young gigolo has secretly married his true love so he can thwart his great-uncle’s vile and exclusive will.

• You’re quite happy to poke your nose in where others are doing perfectly well and throw a curveball into the mix. “Oh, but you see, Inspector, that string hanging from the mantelpiece is actually a bit of candlewick that fell away when the murderer inadvertently burnt the house down.

“And look there she goes racing across the lawn. Oops, she’s fallen over the croquet sticks. Whoever could have left them there?

Do let me know how soon you’d wish to engage my services; while one is not financially embarrassed it would be delightful to get some clarification on a retainer. My regards to all at Scothland Yeaahhd. ”