A Summertime Murder: Mary Grand
A Summertime Murder is the fifth in a series of Susan Flynn murder mysteries, classic who-dunits, set here on the Isle of Wight. It can be read as part of the series or as a stand-alone.
The novel opens with a sinister prologue. We are taken inside the mind of the killer as they are committing murder on the cliffs of Brook Beach. We then enter chapter one which takes us back five days. It is the middle of the night, and Susan Flynn lies in bed, kept awake by the interminable heatwave. Suddenly she becomes aware of the sound of police sirens, sees flashing lights …what is happening in the village?
A Summertime Murder by Mary Grand.
‘There is an evil I have seen under the sun…’ Ecclesiastes 10:5
Prologue Wednesday, 20 June
My heart is racing. I stand, breathing heavily, staring down the side of the cliff.
The body has disappeared into the darkness. I don’t even hear it enter the water, but I know the waves below will gather it up, carry it far out into the ocean.
The moon shines down on the sea: mirror calm, benign, peaceful. But, as with people, what you see is an illusion: everything happens below the surface.
What is it like, that world out there I have sent it to? The little we know frightens me. Go deep enough and you enter a freezing cold world, devoid of light, one where strange creatures and carnage lurk.
I, however, am safe up here, a gentle warm breeze bringing relief from the endless heat of the day. I am alone; no one can see the dreadful deed. However, I hear the gentle but persistent roll of the waves below. They know what I have done. Fortunately, no one speaks their language; no one will understand when they try to tell a story of murder.
One day, the sea will have had enough of the body: it will be spewed up on the beach to be found by some innocent dog walker or fossil hunter. They will be back on dry land but no longer able to harm me; the sea will have done its work, wiped all traces of their story.
And I shall go undiscovered. People will look at me, think they know me, and have no notion of the icy, dark depths to my soul. No one will ever know that I am a killer.
Chapter 1 Saturday, 16 June – five days before
This wasn’t a heatwave: it was a heat tsunami. Susan was finding it impossible to sleep. All day, heat had wrapped itself around her like cling-film. Before bed she’d had a cold shower, starting slightly warm then on to freezing, but the effect was short-lived.
One of the problems was that she liked to sleep with a duvet wrapped around her, but that was impossible. This thin sheet didn’t provide the comfort she needed.
Her bedroom window was wide open; a fan buzzed quietly next to her bed. She listened to its unassuming white noise, as it joined the gentle rustling of a tree, the rumbling of a car in the distance. Soon they would lull her to sleep.
But then the sound of an alarm cut the stillness: repetitive, muffled, but unrelenting. If Susan had lived in the city, she might have ignored it, but not here. Not in the village. Was it a car alarm? She waited for it to be turned off by an embarrassed neighbour, but it kept going. Maybe the car owner was away? That would annoy everyone close by. But then she saw lights flashing through the curtains. Something was definitely amiss.
Susan threw off the thin sheet, got out of bed, and opened the curtains. She could see the blue lights of an emergency vehicle, maybe two, and felt a rush of excitement; whatever was happening, it was here in the village.
Susan glanced at her clock: one in the morning. She rushed downstairs; her dogs, Libs and Rocco, were sitting up, tails wagging, sensing the excitement.
‘I won’t be long,’ she said, giving them each a treat. After grabbing her cardigan and slipping on a pair of sandals, she left the house, walking quickly down through the close and onto the high street.
A white van rushed past her, taking her breath away, then she saw a number of villagers out like her, wondering what was going on. Susan waved over to the owner of the pub where she’d been earlier for the quiz, and to Tracy, the owner of the shop, leaning out of her bedroom window.
‘I think something’s happened at the vet’s,’ Tracy shouted to her.
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Mary Grand is a writer of murder mysteries, classic whodunnits, set on the Isle of Wight. She grew up in Cardiff, taught Deaf Children, and now lives on the Isle of Wight. She is published by Boldwood for whom she has written 9 books, 5 of which are a series with amateur detective Susan Flynn. A Christmas Murder pub in Dec 2024 was a number one best seller on Amazon.