Hercules

Sitting on a sunlit Rue-de-la-Paris patio

Hercules feeling a slight twinge in his back

Turning in his seat, he raised a finger

To a nicely, short skirted, well-endowed waitress

 

As he asked for a small pillow to help him settle

She flashed a perfect smile, and was about to turn

When her perfect complexion turned blank white

And a gasp almost burst her well-filled blouse

 

Hercules felt, rather than saw his companion fall

Then seeing the café table decor scattered asunder

He turned quickly, thus avoiding a second dart

Which lodged into his chair, just missing his shoulder

 

It matched the dart in his companion’s back

Both feathered vials, filled with the same poison

And out of the corner of his eye, a fleeing figure

Around the nearest corner, where had gone

 

In an instant, all was in complete shambles

Shocked patrons all scrambled away from the scene

Seeing Madam Cherie-de-la-Croix face down in her soup

Had the shocked waitress uttered scream after scream

 

Smoke curled up from his black Balkan Sobranie Turkish cigarette

As he and a vacationing, James Japp, discussed the murder

This dead, stunning beauty, was well known to Scotland Yard

Who, at one time, had posed as a lonely sheep herder

 

She had transported drugs in her dead lamb’s bladders

Having the Madam eventually becoming incredibly rich

But aware she was about to be discovered

Had arranged freedom for herself, by exposing contacts

 

Hercules was to be the man in the middle

But this first chapter had to be labelled as a ‘fail’        

He and Agatha would discuss ‘those’ little details

Before completion of this murder mystery tale