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How To Write A Detective Story
(plan your story using post-it notes first)
To begin with, you should introduce your characters. How many people are going to be in your story? Give their names and ages and some information about them.
Then, you should write about the setting. Where does your story take place? In the morning? At night? At a school or at the beach? Somewhere scary or somewhere fun?
Next, talk about the mystery or problem. Is there a strange sound, a missing object, a broken window or a lost possession? Introduce a red herring. Use all of this information to give your story an interesting title.
Finally, add in the clues that will help your characters and the person reading your story figure out what is going on. The problem needs to get solved at the end of the story.
WAGOLL
The mystery of the missing Mona Lisa
The city of Paris was as quiet as usual. The streets were empty and no one was outside. The beautiful shops and stores were all closed, It was a dismal day. There was no life in anything; it made detective Antone wonder. His mind was filled with questions and curiousity
about this strange, awkward sight. The window from his office overlooked the city centre and the many small lanes that surrounded the centre from the royal palace. His mind was deep in thought until the phone halterd his time. He answered it and with one blink of an eye, his face splutterd out with shock, the famous Mona Lisa was gone!
The panic of the news broke out to the royal family and the people of France. Dectective Antone was called immediately to the French museum La Louvre to investigate the crime that had created panic amongst French citizens.
“Antone…it…it’s… gone!” the museum owner reported hesitantly.
“Yes I know, it has spread panic over France – especially Paris” Antone replied.
It was then that Antone noticed there was the faintest print on the door handle leading to the room were the Mona Lisa was displayed. He looked at it very closesly and could tell it was a finger print.
“Someone has opened this door overnight, I can tell as a finger print mark is on the handle.”
A great start Luke. Excellent use of everyday language and contraction to show informal writing. Excellent choice of vocabulary. I am looking forward to the next part. Mrs B
A Joke Too Far
It was a bright and sunny day in July, a perfect day for the world BMX championships, held at Woodward, California, USA. My friend Harry Main was in the final, also in the finals were: Calum Bibby, Drew Bazanzon, Scotty Cranmer and Adam LZ. Only two points separated Harry and Adam from the earlier runs that day.
Scotty and Harry were getting ready for their next runs. Scotty said that he was going to do a backflip. So Harry left his bike next to a ramp and went back to his car to get his camera. Adam spots Harry leaving the skatepark and, to unsettle Harry, Adam decided to play a joke on Harry by hiding his precious bike behind of the old ramp.
Steve Fly, the skatepark owner, had been watching this unfold on his CCTV cameras. Harry returned with camera in hand, asking Scotty where his bike was, Scotty replied,”I don’t know.” In such a panic, Harry and Scotty searched frantically for the bike, as the final was already underway. Adam saw Harry and decided to tell him where he had hid the bike.
Harry was raging with fury, when Adam broke the news to him. So Harry, Scotty and Adam went back to the skatepark and to the old ramp, only to find the old, worn down and partly broken face of the ramp. Yet again Harry went bezerk at Adam. “This is where I left it, I promise you Harry”. Adam had an idea he said, ” lets go and see Steve Fly to look at his cameras and see what has happened”. On the way to Steve Fly’s office, Adam LZ was called over the loud speaker. So Adam left leaving Scotty and Harry to go to Steve Fly’s office.
Knocking on the door, Scotty and Harry asked Steve to check the cameras around the skatepark. But Steve said “the cameras are not working boys”. Harry couldn’t believe that the cameras were out of order. Harry said to Scotty, “let’s get back Scotty so you can do your run”.
“Are you sure Harry?” Harry replied in a sad voice “I’ll be ok, you do your run and don’t forget the backflip”.
As Scotty ran off to do his run, Harry couldn’t face watching him ride. He strolled around the skatepark feeling confused and upset as to why this had happened. He wondered into Steve’s office. There was nobody there, and Harry couldn’t resist having a sneaky look at the cameras on the computer. He was shocked to discover that after Adam had moved the bike, shortly afterwards Steve appeared. Looking shifty and suspicious, he moved the bike behind the office near the wheelie bins.
Acting quickly, Harry ran out of the office to find his bike. There it was, wedged between the two wheelie bins. He grabbed the bike, peddling as fast as he could hoping not to miss his run. He made his run just in time, and Scotty looked surprised to see him, he nearly fell off his bike! After lots of super stunts and tricks, he won the the world championships. Harry was thrilled and overjoyed.
It was later discovered that Adam and Steve Fly fell out years earlier, and Steve wanted to get Adam in more trouble by moving the bike again. When everyone found out what had happened, and how Harry had been tricked, no one went to the skate park again.
Lovely use of phrase…watching this unfold, searched frantically. Lovely use of fronted adverbials too. Next step: new speaker, new line.
A really interesting case of sabotage James. Glad to see that cctv caught Adam red-handed.
M.I.A.
(MISSING IN ACTION)
Phillip Coutinho was a man that played for Liverpool fc, number 10 and was recovering from a broken ankle injury. During a football match against Manchester UTD, Philip went down to the changing room to get into his kit, meanwhile Zlatan Ibrahimovic was not where he was meant to be, on the bench !!!
Phillip did not come up for about 10 minutes and that’s when the security guards decided to go and check if he was alright. But no, he was not alright, he was gone. The match was paused, everyone was looking for Phillip and everyone was claiming that it was Zlatan but Zlatan denied everything. It was time to get a real detective on the case!!!
The detectives name was J. Mecurial and within seconds of his arrival, the questioning began.
He started his investigations on the bench, the last place that Philip had been seen before he went down to the changing rooms.
There, Detective Mercurial made a small yet significant discovery, the drinking bottle that belonged to Phillip.
It had been drank from but there was evidence that the bottle had been tampered with as there was a strange smell from within the bottle, a smell that Detective Mercurial knew very well.
” I believe that the drinking water in this bottle has had a substance mixed with it” said the Detective ” I have investigated a case similar to this before and suspect foul play is at large here!” exclaimed the detective.
“Foul play?” Shouted the referee reaching for his yellow card
“Take it easy ref!” responded the detective “I don’t mean a football foul, I am referring to a far more serious act of foul play, sabotage!”
Everybody looked at the detective in shock.
One by one each player dropped the drink bottle they were holding.
“I will gather all the bottles and send them to the laboratory for further investigation, but in the meantime it is my main priority to find Mr. Coutinho!” said the detective “I must now move my investigation to the last known place that Phillip was, the changing rooms”
The detective, followed by the manager, the assistant manager and a number of Phillips closest players went down to the changing rooms.
On their way down, they saw the ball boy leaving a store room, his behaviour was very suspicious, the detective also thought this and so went over to speak with him.
“Excuse me young man, may I speak with you for a moment?” asked the detective.
The ball boys face immediately turned very pale
” How may I help you sir?” Said the ball boy.
” I am here investigating the disappearance of one of your players and would just like to ask you a few questions regarding this please?” asked detective Mercurial
” I haven’t seen Philip at all sir, in fact the last time I saw him was on the bench by the pitch when I brought up the teams drinks bottles” he nervously replied
The Detective was quick to reply ” I don’t believe I said which player it was that is missing, why would you say Phillip unless of course you know more than myself?” cleverly asked the detective, ” and you say it was yourself that brought up the players drinks bottles, did you also fill the bottles?” he asked.
The ball boy came clean straight away, by saying that he had been forced to sabotage the bottles by Manchester Uniteds manager, Jose Mourinho
He went straight to Jose to ask him about the bottles. Jose couldn’t get out of it now so confessed and told him that Phillip was locked in the store room in a spare kit bag and the police and medic team came straight away to arrest Jose and get Phillip back to normal.
Absolutely loved this Dillon. A very clever plot with a red herring, I thought it was going to be Zlatan. I loved your vocabulary too. A super detective story with many features of the genre. Great work!
Mrs Beesley
Comments
L.H.
24 January 2020
A Ramsay Riddle!
Sarah had just got changed into her cosiest baggy jumper so she could take her dog Fluffy out for a walk. She had just put some toast in the toaster and ran back to get Fluffy’s lead when she noticed that there was a familiar smell in the air. The fire alarm went off. Nobody moved because they knew it was just Sarah’s toast. It was literally her daily thing to do. The 10 year old girl grabbed the nearest tea towel and jumped and hopped and wafted it at the fire alarm to stop its blaring warning call. Sarah padded into the kitchen to retrieve her burnt toast. She scraped some cold butter across her scorched breakfast and did not stop to eat at the dinner table. She grabbed her postbox red coat and favorite well-worn trainers and called farewell to her mum. As she walked down the wonky brick path she noticed that the letter box was full to the brim. The paper boy had untidily stuffed The Daily Mile in the rusty letter box when he had been past with their newspaper. Plastered on the front page was the headline, “GORDON RAMSAY’S COOKING CATASTROPHE!” Sarah thought to herself, “what on earth…?” and scanned the intriguing article. This was right up Sarah’s street! Sarah loved nothing more than a chance to practice her detective skills. She had always loved rainy Saturday afternoons when she could curl up with a hot chocolate and an old episode of "Colombo".
Sarah excitedly skipped back up the path and burst through the front door and exclaimed to her mum, "I’m going out! I’ve got a mystery to solve! “She stopped to hear her mum reply, "Okay, as long as you can make it back for tea!" So Sarah hopped on her bike and rode to Gordon Ramsay’s house. She knew Gordon’s house because he lived in the same Cornish village, and even walked his dogs on the same beach as Sarah. She had become friends with Tilly Ramsay, who she knew from playing out together. Ten minutes later, she arrived at the crime scene. So she looked to see what clues she could find. Sarah could smell the aroma of a freshly baked cake and peeped through the kitchen window. There was Tilly, who seemed to be hiding something under a towel – she spotted Sarah and turned bright red. “Oh, hello there Sarah! I wasn’t expecting to see you today.” “I wanted to help with the investigation of your dad’s stolen spoon. I know that it was the first one he was given when he trained to be a chef,” replied Sarah. “Err, yes, its uh, terrible,” said Tilly, “I have no idea why anyone would do such a thing. Err, anyway, must dash, sorry Sarah, bye!”
“Hmm,” thought Sarah, how strange. Why was Tilly in such a hurry to leave and what was she hiding under that towel? What other strange things could she see? Nothing was out of the ordinary. The dogs had left a trail of muddy paws through the kitchen but they were always playing on the field and digging holes like dogs do. She decided that she should go to the police station to find out what the suspects were doing when the crime happened.
At the police station there were had six suspects and they were all asked to say what they were doing when the crime occurred. Once all the suspects had given their alibis most made sense but one seemed strange. Tilly’s story was that she was baking a cake, which would require a spoon. She looked at the floor while explaining and looked suspicious. When asked who the cake was for she stumbled over her words and ended saying she just fancied making a cake. The officer leading the investigation explained to Gordon that Tilly was the most likely perpetrator. That night Gordon, Sarah and Tilly had a talk and tried to find out if it was Tilly that had lost the treasured spoon. As they talked Tilly explained “Alright I’ll tell you, I wanted to make a surprise cake for you and mum’s anniversary so I used your spoon. Sorry dad.” Gordon replied with, “It`s okay Tilly. Well what did you do with it after?” Tilly described how she finished with the spoon then put the mixing bowl and the spoon down on the table. She washed the other things then came back and the spoon was gone. Sarah could tell that Tilly was telling the truth and she didn’t know where the spoon was or how it went missing. Suddenly, the dogs burst in through the front door all muddy. Sarah had wondered how they had got so muddy and what they were digging.
So Sarah followed the muddy trail outside to reveal that their new puppy had buried it in a pile of mud! Sarah was so happy to see that she had solved the case of ‘GORDON RAMSAY’S COOKING CATASTROPHE!’
R:D
26 January 2020
It was a rainy day in Riverdale, dull and boring. Nothing ever happened there. Detective Cooper watched the rain pour. She sipped her coffee; waiting for a crime. Cooper was eating her bagel when she heard a scream. She quickly got her umbrella and went to check on her neighbour. Her neighbour was a grumpy, middle-aged woman named Miss Strickland, that didn't really like Cooper. But that would't stop her from helping Miss Strickland if she was in trouble. She hurried to her neighbour's door. To her surprise the door was wide open. Cooper ran in to find Strickland lying on the floor unconscious. She rang 999 quickly. When Detective Cooper turned back, she briefly could see someone rushing out of the house. She would have tried to catch him but she knew it would be no use, running isn't on the list of what she was good at.
When the police came, Detective Cooper told them everything. She was determined to find the murderer because when she stepped into the house it brought back memories of when she was a kid. Little Cooper scratched her knee and Miss Strickland put a plaster on it and kissed it better. Miss Strickland was a lot happier until her and husband got a divorce. Detective Cooper had an idea, she called an old friend from the police force. "Hello, it's been a long time since we last talked but I have case for us, if you are in?"Detective Cooper asked.
"Fine, I'm in .... but there's one condition," a masculine, deep voice pronounced, "don't take control, we are partners. You’re not the boss. We will work together. Capiche?"
"Yeah, yeah,” Detective Cooper sighed, "meet me behind the bakery in thirty-five minutes."
Detective Cooper was standing in the alley behind the bakery eating her pasty, expecting her partner. Soon he came, he was tall and muscular and had a very posh style. "Long time no see, Detective Cooper."
"I Know, Detective Jones, but there has been a murder and I think with my wittiness and smartness and your attention to detail and friendliness we will crack this case in no time."
"What are we doing here then?" questioned Detective Jones; looking around.
"Miss Strickland was murdered on a Thursday morning. So we are going to find her ex-husband because he is one of the suspects."
"So, you think that he is here?” Detective Jones said, raising his eyebrows.
"Yes, I know a person that works at this bakery and he said that Mr Benson (Miss Strickland's ex-husband) comes here every day at 1:00 exact,” Detective Cooper explained, looking at her watch. "In three, two, one…” Both detectives looked up to find a matt black Lamborghini pulling up to the bakery. It had a personalised number plate: ’TH3 B35T'.
Detective Jones and Detective Cooper followed Mr Benson into the bakery. He order his usual jam donut and sat down next to the window. "Hello Mr Benson, could you come with us to the station please?" Detective Jones asked, leading them out of the shop. When they got to the station Mr Benson was taken into a confidential room.
"What am I doing here?”
“Your ex-wife, Miss Strickland was murdered,” answered Detective Cooper, “and as her ex-husband you are a suspect.”
“Me killing her,” scoffed Mr Benson,” I would never; we made amends. Anyway, I was out of town on Thursday, I couldn’t have done it!" He put his feet on the table and leant back in his chair. Both Detectives looked at each other like they had just figured it out.
“So, who told you that Miss Strickland was murdered on Thursday?” queried Detective Cooper.
“You did remember.”
“No, I’m sure we didn’t,” Detective Jones replied, leaning over the desk.
“Did somebody turn the thermostat up?” blurted Mr Benson, wiping his hand across his forehead. Detective Cooper and Detective Jones gave Mr Benson the death stare and said nothing. "Fine! I did it, I killed Miss Strickland!”
1o1@
26 January 2020
Who Killed Dua Lipa ?
It was a cold, windy day with the rain hammering against the office window. Detective Orchid was staring out of the wet window waiting for a case to come in. She was the best detective in the company with twenty-five years of experience and has solved every case given.
Suddenly, the phone rang. She picked it up and heard a loud scream on the other end of the phone.
“Hello, who is this please?”
The trembling voice replied
“ it’s Ariana Grande please help!, Dua Lipa has been murdered at Shawn Mendes‘s house. 16 Long Lane, London.”
As she raced through the busy streets of London, her mind was filled with questions like who did it? Why? How? What would she find? She was also sad because Dua Lipa was one of her favourite singers.
She arrived at the beautiful, large, modern mansion. She had never seen something so big! With a ring of the bell; a knock at the door. The door was opened by Shawn Mendes. He had a sly look on his face.
“Take me to the room where everybody is!” Commanded detective Orchid.
As detective Orchid entered the silent, tence room , she saw Ariana Grande, Shawn Mendes, Billie Eilish, the guards and the DJ. However there was one person missing... DUA LIPA! “WHERE IS SHE?” Questioned Detective Orchid. “In the spare bedroom.” Replied Billie Eilish with tears rolling down her face “I’ll show you follow me.”
Entering the room, Detective Orchid discovered Dua Lipa lead on the floor under the cover. She looked around the room for any clues. On the bedside table was a bright yellow drink in a tall glass, half drank. Could this be the answer to her death?
Sprinting down the corridor Detective Orchid returned to the living room where the rest were gathered. One by one she started to interview each person.
Firstly, she interviewed the owner of the mansion Shawn Mendes. He was confident and didn’t seem to have a care in the world. “Where was you at the time of the murder” questioned the Detective.
“Outside playing fetch with Billie Eilish and my two dogs. But all of a sudden Billie Eilish left!” Replied Shawn Mendes. Detective Orchid moved on to question the next person who was Billy Eilish, asking her the same questions. Billie replied “I was outside with Shawn Mendes and his dogs, then I left to go to the toilet passing the spare bedroom on the way. That’s when I noticed Dua Lipa on the floor of the spare bedroom.”
“What happened then?” asked Detective Orchid?
“ I ran to the kitchen and told Ariana Grande what I had found. That’s when she instantly phoned you!”
Detective Orchid gathered more information from the others including when was the last time Dua Lipa had been seen. Everybody replied they had last seen her in the kitchen with the DJ getting drinks. As she turned to question the DJ detective Orchid realised that he was no longer in the room.
The rooms were searched by the detective. She found the DJ in the spare room knelt down by Dua Lipa’s side crying. He was holding the glass with the bright yellow drink in.
As he looked up at the detective with sadness and sorrow he took a gulp out of the liquid and said “Sorry!”
Mystery At Pima Point
16 July 2020
To write a good detective story, you should pay close attention to the nature of your characters, how your story unfolds, and how it ends. These things – characters, plot, pacing, and outcome – determine how good and effective your story is. In essence, writing detective fiction is just like writing any other genre of literature, except that it requires a bit more creativity and imagination to come up with a sense of mystery and some tricky twists. If you are not contented with just reading and you want to write your very own detective story someday, then this article https://www.4mysteryjbclemmens.com/the-essential-rules-for-writing-a-good-detective-story/ is especially for you.