A detective story (wih as many as we can manage)

but as she reached out to take it an elderly woman steped forward and gave her a packet of tissue. "You don't want to be bothering wi' mucky things like that luv. Now the Yorkshire team's 'ere to sort things out. Hetty Wainthrop's the name. We heard there'd been a bit bother and Northern detectives were disappearing."
"Ay," the fat man beside her leered at Agatha. "Mind some things look well sorted. Now we'll round this lot up and I've a room booked and a nice single malt ready at the nearest 5star, where I'll be givin you two the benefit of my Yorkshire compassionate policing." He waved at Chris and Mary Beth and placed an arm round each of them "Dalziel is the name." " Peter!" he yelled "Get this lot sorted"

“Lord Peter, to you,” said Wimsey, alighting from his Daimler. “Bunter, fingerprints all round, and photographs of all the evidence.”

‘No time to be thinking of the whisky...zut alors!’ Poirot pointed at the line of cars waiting.. ‘we must ‘urry to catch up with the van that carried away Madame Vera!’
So, leaving Miss Marple to investigate the tea room murder (her speciality) they all piled into the vehicles.Gene Hunt and Kojak in the front of the Quattro, with Kate and Agatha in the back, Jack Regan and George Carter in the front of the Cortina
With Morse and Montalbano in the back with Taggart squashed in between them.
Poirot and Hastings ran to the sleek open top sports car, and the rest of them piled into waiting taxis, and all went hell for leather down the coast road with Holmes and Watson following on in a hansom cab, whipping the horses like mad.
Unfortunately, in their haste they had clean forgotten that....

Hetty Wainthrop was there. She stood for a moment wondering what to do when a red Mk 2 Jaguar drew up beside her.
"Get in," said the man
Hetty adjusted her hat. "I've no idea who you are," she said.
"I'm Morse. Now get in"
Hetty got in "But I thought he was Morse."
He's Endeavor. Bloody stupid name. I'm Morse" And he roared off after the others. But as they raced around a bend..

I’m

They nearly ran slap bang into a yellow school bus, an American one. It was being driven by a frightened, elderly woman who was being held at gunpoint by a mad serial killer. The schoolchildren were petrified, but were being forced to sing ‘The wheels on the bus’ by the mad gunman. As they rounded a bend, a tall, lean, hunky man was standing on a bridge looking down at them.
It was Dirty Harry Callahan! Thank goodness!

“Come on punk, make my day!’ he shouted, as he drew his Magnum 45 (the gun, not the ice cream)…..

Right behind you?

Oh no you’re not, zees eeze not a bloody pantomime said Jon Baptiste as all the women in the tearoom swooned, and a few of the men.
I must take your..

cakes into custody, said Ventress. Mrs. Ventress never makes them like that. Just all these hard boiled eggs, which are doing dreadful things to me regularity. I’m just putting me feet up for a while until Sergeant Blaketon gets here, wake me up if ...

Bergerac comes in.
‘Jim’ cried Ventress ‘ knew you’d get here eventually!
‘Any chance of a ham sandwich and a coffee’ Bergerac approached the tearoom counter hopefully, ‘am here to investigate the murder of my Ex Father in Law, Charlie, he’s just washed up on the beach....and oddly enough he changed his will just last week leaving everything to me!’
Miss Marple gave him an old fashioned look and...

along came Cassie Stewart with sidekick Sunny.
‘What’s this about Charlie?’ she asked. ‘Have you formally identified the body? Sunny, secure the scene and get the forensics people here.’ No sooner had she issued her instructions than ...

she saw a man in a dingy draw up, looking the worse for wear . "Can you tell me where I am. I fell asleep and completely drifted across the North Sea. I'm a man called Kurt Wallander from Sweden and was on the trail of an international drug crew." Siobhan nudged Rebus and said "There's your Swedish doppelganger".

"What the hell does that mean?" asked Rebus. Wallander fished a bottle out of the. dinghy took a swig and passed it to Rebus. "Ive given up," said Rebus as he raised it to his lips. "Me too," agreed Wallander.
Just then there was a noise from under a tarpaulin in the dinghy and a blonde girl crawled out. "Saga Noren" she said and

Kurt blushed and said "We're on the run from the Malmo bigwigs. They don't like us fraternising off duty. We met at a national police conference as you do!"

Hetty came along and said . . .

Ooh, are you the one with those lovely winter woolies?
I'd love the pattern if you could spare it.
Saga raised her eyes heavenwards and muttered under her breath. Smiling sweetly, she informed her that that was Sarah Lund, and that she was coming when she had finished her raglan sleeve shaping.

"That sounds filthy" Gene Hunt had reappeared, "Do you think she'd do one for me?"
But before anyone could answer, out of the waves a figure in a diving suit came staggering up the beach. When the helmet was removed a woman's head appeared. "DCI Amy Silva," she gasped "from the submarine Vigil"..

"Can we be of assistance?" asked Father Brown who was picnicking on the beach with Mrs McCarthy and her scones.
"Bloody amateurs" growled Gene "On yer bike, Grandad"

"Leave him alone!" snarled Rebus, who plonked himself down besides Father Brown and gratefully accepted a scone. He'd sized up Amy and decided she wasn't his type. He started chatting to the priest, about his own beliefs, never quite sure, and wondered who else could appear out of the sea.

He didn’t have to wonder for long. On the horizon there appeared James Hathaway, frantically paddling a pedalo.
“Ahoy there!” he shouted. “Completed my walk to Santiago de Compostela at last but got lost in this thing afterwards. Have you seen Lewis and Laura?”

"Thought you went into politics or something," mumbled Rebus through his second scone."Is that Lewis?" A car had squealed to a halt its siren blazing and a fat man got out placing a battered trilby on his head. "I'm Barlow." he said "what the hell's going on here. Had reports a lady policewoman has been kidnapped"

"Guv, there's one of those investigative journalists over there!" said a beaming plump face in a peaked cap.

"Tell him to clear off, pronto, Fancy, we don't want them round here" barked Barlow. But there was a little white dog yapping round his heels and in the distance he saw a spiky haired boy yelling "Snowy . . .

An even fatter man got out of the car, in uniform ‘ Shall I do house to house sir’ he boomed, and everyone flinched at the noise, the dog Sykes whimpered and moved closer to Barnaby.
It was Fancy Smith. Barlow sighed and nodded ‘ and try not to frighten the donkeys on the beach, we may need them for.....

...a chase if the Z car breaks down. Woman PC56 saluted and said "roger that sir." She went off to calm the donkeys with carrots and suddenly ......

For waking up this lot, not called z cars for nothing

Nobody’s rogering anybody said Inspector Lockhart, especially as there’s no hiding place.
Have we found the murder weapon yet ..