What Day Is It?

They sure have a lot of murders in England.

Most of them (except for London based “Luther” with its avenging angel of urban intensity) seem to take place in the countryside plagued by gray skies, oblivious cows and overgrown greenery.

Why are there so many United Kingdom clergy who like to solve crimes?

There’s the bumbling Roman Catholic priest who wears a floor sweeping cassock and a hat that look like it was imported from Transylvania. As an added homey touch, Father Brown’s mode of transportation is a bicycle. There are so many murders in this village one wonders why it they haven’t been reported in the English tabloids are being the locus of a crime wave.
There’s a Protestant churchman/crime solver as well. He is a tall, jazz loving, cigarette smoking and pub crawling minister who likes to take off his white collar and shirt (by the riverside, of course) as the infrequent sun highlights his blonde locks. He has the improbable name of Sidney and he struggles with his faith.

Then, there’s Endeavour Morse, a man with no personal life. He has a mind like a clock (the mechanical kind, not the electronic kind). He is so tightly wound that.. well, you get the picture. He has no doubts about his relationship with a deity or anyone else. He is always a step ahead of the other detectives and would-be detectives in the district.

Woman are not overlooked.

Besides seeming to be the majority of the (usually pregnant) victims, as police officers, they face sexism. It doesn’t matter how intuitive and hard-working they are, their uppers always seem to have a “You’re taking the place of a man” look about them.

“Prime Suspect” was a departure.

Jane Tennison (she is “tenacious” and sensitive like the poet, Tennyson) takes guff from no one and as ambitious as the man she is seeking to replace. She is a chameleon-like character who uses her physical presence as an expressive tool. One moment her voice is commanding, the other it is as comforting as a down blanket.

She is also a loner.

Sidney, despite looking like a Greek god, can’t seem to have, let alone sustain a relationship.

Luther is consumed with Dante-esque visions when not running up and down the London streets carrying a Clint Eastwood sized gun.

No wonder the English like to come here to south Florida. The weather is great and one can re-invent themselves.

Are we crime free? Of course not. But since “Miami Vice” and its pastel colored and Armani-clad leads, Sonny Crockett and Ricardo Tubbs, went their respective ways, we haven’t had a good murder-mystery television series. When things get serious here everyone goes to the beach (or at least they used to before pandemic).

Here’s an idea.

An English, Afro-Caribbean rabbi named Daniel Robinson, moves to Boca Raton thinking he is going to retire and gets involved in a murder in sugar cane fields owned by a multi-millionaire Cuban refugee dynasty.

We can call it “Dayan” for the Hebrew word for “judge” (not the eye-patched Israeli general) and as a play on his first name.

Anybody?

Okay, we can make him a genetic kohain or member of the priestly class.

He can speak Creole? Was born in Jamaica? Is distantly related to Bob Marley? He has a record collection that rivals Sidney’s? He owns an original “Frank Sinatra Sings Select Johnny Mercer”?

Okay.

Umm.

So, has anyone heard anything about when we can expect a vaccine?

About the Author
Elaine Rosenberg Miller writes fiction and non-fiction. Her work has appeared in numerous print publications and online sites, domestically and abroad, including JUDISCHE RUNDSCHAU, THE BANGALORE REVIEW, THE FORWARD, THE HUFFINGTON POST and THE JEWISH PRESS.
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