Christmas with the Franks

by Leena Clover

  “Is there anything else you can tell us? Anything that struck you as peculiar this evening?”

  Pappa rolled his eyes.

  “There’s plenty that’s not right here,” Pappa snorted. “That woman in the turban for instance. And that young whippersnapper, the one who claims to be a dancer.”

  Pappa turned red when he said the word dancer. The word stripper would never escape his lips.

  “But hey, it’s not my house and not my party.”

  Stan reluctantly nodded that he was done.

  “Let me know if you think of something else.”

  Motee Ba took Pappa’s arm and I stood up to help them up to their room. I wanted to check out the rooms that had been allotted to us. I also wanted to check where Tony had wandered off.

  I came into the parlor and saw Tony laughing his head off, deep in conversation with Crystal. He was keeping himself busy.

  Henry looked up and clapped her hands.

  “Can we get this done with, Meera? Carl’s tired.”

  Henry’s sister Carl was curled up on a couch, snoring with her mouth open. I nodded and asked Henry to follow me.

  Stan greeted Henry Robinson and her sister.

  “How did you know the victim?” he began.

  “This is Swan Creek, Stan,” Henry dismissed. “Everyone knows everyone.”

  Stan quirked his eyebrows, waiting for a definite answer.

  “I don’t remember. I’ve known him for years. We don’t meet regularly but he always invites us to his Christmas party.”

  “So it’s some kind of old people’s group then?”

  “He was a lot older than me, boy. Are you saying I’m over the hill?”

  Henry Robinson crossed seventy a while ago but she’s as robust as they come. Compared to my Pappa or old Mr. Frank, she’s virtually a child.

  “What did you talk about today?” Stan asked.

  “Nothing in particular,” Henry noted.

  “You must have talked about something,” Stan persisted.

  “Have you seen the amount of people here? Amanda has been playing hostess. She made sure we had a drink in our hands and all that. I barely said hello to the old guy.”

  “No dinner table conversation?”

  “He didn’t have time for anyone today. He was busy bickering with Junior half the time. It was about sausage of course. That’s what he talked about most of the time.”

  “What about the other half?” Stan asked.

  “He was canoodling with that young chick, Diamond something or other.”

  “Crystal…” I corrected her. “Her name is Crystal.”

  Henry rolled her eyes, making her opinion clear.

  “When was the last time you saw him?” Stan asked.

  Henry clasped her hands together.

  “Let’s see…we had dinner in that giant dining room. Then we came back into the living room or whatever they call it. He was sitting near the fire with Meera’s grandpa. They both got up and went out of the room. That’s it.”

  “Did you hear anyone threaten him?”

  “Why would I?”

  “Just answer the question, Madam. Did you see or hear anything out of the ordinary tonight? Anything that might suggest someone wanted the old man out of the way?”

  “The only one talking about danger was that weirdo.”

  I told Stan about Madam Isadora. He looked at me as if I was out of my mind.

  “I’m serious. She’s been going on about danger and stuff since I got here.”

  “We’ll deal with her later,” Stan said.

  “There’s Sophia of course,” Henry said. “She must have come here for a reason.”

  “Are you saying she came here to kill the old man?”

  “When did I say that?” Henry asked, clapping her hands together. “Don’t put words in my mouth, you moron.”

  Stan shrank back.

  “Just let me know if you think of something else,” he mumbled.

  Henry stood up and almost dragged her sister outside. Stan sighed after them.

  “Let’s get your Dad in here, Meera. Then we can take a break.”

  I went out and looked around for Dad. I found him in the library, buried in a book. I looked around the room. Like every other room in the mansion, it was humungous. Shelves bursting with books lined the walls, soaring up to the two storey high ceilings. A ladder lay on one side, a must if you wanted to reach the higher shelves. A heavy mahogany table lay in the center of the room with a bunch of chairs placed around it. A fire burned in a stone fireplace and a few armchairs faced the fire.

  “Stan wants to talk to you,” I told Dad.

  I followed him out reluctantly. Part of me wanted to snuggle up with a book and forget what had happened.

  “Hello Professor,” Stan said meekly.

  Stan had faced the full brunt of Dad’s temper over the past year. He had fully deserved it, of course, with his unfounded accusations against me and Motee Ba.

  “Which one of my family are you going to pick on this time, Stan?” Dad asked. “You’ve had enough time to come up with a scatterbrained theory.”

  “I just want to ask you a few questions, Sir,” Stan sputtered.

  Dad folded his hands and leaned back in his chair, ready for the onslaught.

  “Did you see or hear anything out of the ordinary?” Stan asked.

  “This party is more like Pappa’s thing. The old man was his friend.”

  Dad paused for a minute.

  “I suppose you heard about the argument at the dinner table? Teddy was trying to talk some sense into the old man. But he was being as stubborn as usual. He’s obsessed with sausage.”

  “What else?”

  “There are some weird characters out there,” Dad said. “That woman in the turban, for example. Why did the old man think any of us would find her amusing? Maybe it was his idea of a joke.”

  “Madam Isadora is a psychic,” I reminded Stan. “She tells fortunes and stuff.”

  “And that dancer?” my Dad demanded. “Was she going to put on a performance too?”

  “I’m asking the questions,” Stan reminded Dad.

  “There was a typical father-son argument. I wouldn’t give it much importance. God knows that happens at our dinner table all the time. When can we go home? Tell me that. I’m on a strict deadline. The grades go up before Christmas and I am just getting started on the final exams.”

  “I can’t tell you that,” Stan said. “The creek’s rising and there’s a blizzard. You wouldn’t be able to step out even if I gave my permission.”

  Dad took off his glasses and polished them. I knew he was trying to control himself.

  “I don’t know what’s happening to this town. Swan Creek is supposed to be a sleepy college town. Not a hotbed of murder. What are the police doing to stop this, tell me that.”

  “It’s not like we have gangs and shootouts,” Stan protested. “This was done by someone close to the victim. We can’t predict what a family member will do, can we?”

  “You mean someone in the Frank family did this?” Dad burst out. “Are you making your wild accusations again, Stan?”

  “I can’t say it was a Frank,” Stan agreed. “But it was someone in this house, most likely.”

  Dad’s eyebrows shot up.

  “You mean the killer is out there, sitting in that fancy parlor?”

  I wondered how Dad had taken so long to connect the dots.

  “What if this person starts shooting again?” Dad demanded. “You haven’t found the weapon yet, have you? What’s to stop this person from pulling it out and shooting anyone at random?”

  “Why don’t you go up to your room now, Dad?” I soothed. “Try to take a nap or something. Lock your door. I’ve told Motee Ba to do the same.”

  My father walked out in a daze.

  Stan sat back, clutching his head.

  “I need coffee. My head’s about to burst and we’re just getting started.”

  I
pointed to the phone that sat on the desk.

  “I bet you can use that to call the kitchen.”

  Stan picked up the receiver and pressed a button labeled ‘kitchen’. He put in a request for coffee and rubbed his eyes.

  “Who’s next?” I asked. “Shall we start with the family?”

  Chapter 6

  There was a knock on the study door and I heard someone clearing their throat. I stood up and flung the door open. Chamberlain towered over me, holding aloft a heavy tray.

  “Come in, Chamberlain.”

  The butler’s green eyes were bright and red. I supposed he must be grieving for the old man.

  “I brought your coffee,” he said unnecessarily. “Shall I pour?”

  “No need,” Stan waved him off.

  I tried to catch Stan’s eye. If there was one person who knew what went on in this house, it had to be Chamberlain. He probably knew everyone’s secrets. Not that he would be very forthcoming with them.

  “Thanks, Chamberlain,” I spoke up. “Cream and two sugars for me please.”

  Chamberlain fixed my coffee and looked at Stan expectantly.

  “Black,” Stan said grudgingly.

  There was a plate of sugar cookies, decorated with white icing and green and red glitter. They seemed a bit garish in the situation. Stan didn’t have any qualms about picking one up though.

  “Sit down,” he ordered Chamberlain.

  Chamberlain almost collapsed into a chair, his knees creaking.

  “My knees aren’t what they used to be.”

  “How old are you? Over 70?” Stan began. “Why haven’t you retired yet?”

  The old man’s eyes filled with unshed tears.

  “I have nowhere to go. I am happy to stay busy.”

  “You’ve been here a long time, huh?” I asked.

  “Fifty years this summer,” he said proudly.

  He lifted his wrist to show off a gold watch.

  “The master got this for me. It’s inscribed.”

  He pulled it off and flipped it over. Leaning forward, he shoved the watch in my face.

  ‘For 50 years of loyal service’ was etched into the back.

  Stan was getting impatient.

  “So you knew old Mr. Frank well?”

  “Young Teddy was just a baby when I came to work with the family,” Chamberlain said with a faraway look in his eye. “I’ve bounced him on my knee.”

  “Do you like your job?” Stan asked.

  “It’s the best thing that ever happened to me,” Chamberlain said with devotion. “I couldn’t have found a better family if I tried.”

  “Looks like one of them murdered your master,” Stan said with relish. “What do you think about that?”

  Chamberlain puffed up in protest.

  “That’s a dangerous allegation. Do you have any proof?”

  “That’s what we are going to find out, aren’t we?”

  Stan tapped his pencil on the desk and took a big gulp of coffee.

  “Tell us about the people who live here.”

  “There was the old master, of course,” Chamberlain began. “Young Mr. Teddy and his wife Amanda. There’s Ryan. Miss Julie is away at college.”

  “Is that all?” Stan asked.

  I was really curious about the handsome man.

  “What about Noah? Is he visiting for Christmas?”

  “Noah lives here now,” Chamberlain said simply.

  “Who is he?” Stan asked.

  Chamberlain looked uncomfortable.

  “The master offered him a home here. Noah lost his wife a couple of years ago and wasn’t doing too good. He came to visit and decided to stay on.”

  “Yes, but who is he?” Stan pressed. “What is his connection to the family?”

  “Mr. Teddy can answer that.”

  I remembered what Henry had said earlier.

  “Is Noah the old man’s son?”

  Chamberlain gave a barely perceptible nod.

  “How do the two get on then? Teddy and Noah?”

  Chamberlain was quiet.

  “Do you want us to find out who killed your boss?” Stan demanded. “You better answer our questions then. No point hiding stuff from us. You’re only delaying the inevitable. Let’s not forget there’s a killer out there.”

  Chamberlain gasped and looked all of his seventy something years.

  “Noah likes to bait Teddy,” Chamberlain admitted. “Teddy falls for it every time. He’s got a short temper.”

  “Didn’t the old man step in?”

  “The master laughed when the boys fought. He told me Noah was street smart. Teddy was soft. A few fights with Noah would toughen him up.”

  “What did Noah think about the business?” I asked.

  “Oh, he wasn’t involved with the plant,” Chamberlain said. “He stuck around the house.”

  “You mean he did nothing?” I asked. “Didn’t old Mr. Frank talk about Noah taking care of the business or something?”

  Chamberlain pursed his lips.

  “The master liked to have fun. He didn’t agree with Teddy about the business. So he threatened to make Noah his heir.”

  I felt we were finally coming to the point. All this time, we hadn’t really discussed a possible motive. Judging by the wealth around us, it was anybody’s guess. I was ready to bet the old man had been killed for money.

  “Couldn’t Teddy and Noah both work at the plant?” I said out loud. “Did it have to be one or the other?”

  “Noah isn’t interested in working at the plant,” Chamberlain smirked.

  He was gradually opening up.

  “If you ask me, he has it good here. He reads in the library for hours. He walks around the estate, goes fishing. Then he watches football at night. He doesn’t care what happens to the sausage business.”

  “What about Teddy Junior?” I asked. “Is he a hard worker?”

  “Teddy’s been underfoot at that plant since he was a young buck,” Chamberlain said. “He’s made Frank Foods a household name. He wants to expand it more now, make it even more profitable before young Ryan takes over.”

  “I bet he wasn’t happy when Noah turned up here,” Stan said. “Maybe old Mr. Frank was going to change his will and Teddy Junior found out.”

  “So what? He shot him with the house full of guests?” I asked.

  I gave Stan a quelling look. Logic often escapes him. But then, crime doesn’t always follow logic.

  “How did Noah get on with the kids?”

  “Julie loves Noah,” Chamberlain said, “Ryan, not so much.”

  “Any particular reason?”

  Chamberlain looked uncomfortable again.

  “It’s going to come out somehow,” Stan said. “It’s best if you don’t hide things from us.”

  “Noah and Amanda…”

  Chamberlain paused and looked at me.

  “What about Noah and Amanda?”

  “They are a bit extra friendly,” he put it mildly.

  I finally caught on.

  “Really? You are saying Noah and Amanda are having an affair? Right here in this house?”

  “Ryan knows,” Chamberlain told us. “He isn’t too happy about it.”

  “Imagine that!” I smirked.

  Stan’s eyes gleamed. He had found a possible clue.

  “How many people knew about this? What about Mr. Frank?”

  “The kids knew, and the master did too. Nothing escaped his notice. I’m not sure about Teddy.”

  “If I was Teddy Junior, Noah would be my target,” I mused. “First he invades my home, and then he carries on with my wife. Not to mention, he might even steal my inheritance.”

  “But Noah is not the victim here,” Stan reminded me.

  “What about old Mrs. Frank?” he asked Chamberlain. “Does she visit often?”

  The old butler shook his head.

  “She walked out on the master several years ago. She comes here for a week in the summer, mostly to spend time with the
grandkids. She’s never come here for Christmas.”

  Stan made a note of it.

  “We should ask her what brought her here today,” he said to me.

  “What about the rest of the household?” I asked. “Is there a lot of staff other than you?”

  “There’s Mrs. Jones, the cook. She’s been here thirty years. We used to have a couple of maids who lived on the property. But that was a long time ago. They retired and Teddy hired a cleaning service. They send whoever is available.”

  “Do you live in the house?” Stan asked.

  “I used to have a room on the top floor,” Chamberlain said. “Now I have a small apartment over the garage. Mrs. Jones also has one.”

  “What about the maids who served dinner today?” I asked.

  I wondered where those girls were.

  “They were hired for the evening,” Chamberlain said. “They left before the master was shot. I think they got away just before the storm hit.”

  “Does that cover everyone present?” Stan asked.

  “There are the other guests,” I reminded him. “The tarot reader, the dancer and the prize winner.”

  I told Stan about William Derry.

  “What do you know about these people?” he asked Chamberlain. “How long have they been here?”

  “Madam Isadora came here this afternoon,” Chamberlain said. “I have never seen her before. I am not really sure why the master invited her.”

  “Has he shown any interest in this type of stuff before?”

  “No, Miss,” Chamberlain said, scratching his chin. “He hated all that stuff. Called it mumbo jumbo.”

  “Maybe Amanda called her?”

  “I don’t think so,” Chamberlain shook his head. “She asked for the master when she got here. I served her a late lunch. Then she had a meeting with the master in his study.”

  “About what?” Stan asked. “You must have overheard something?”

  Chamberlain trained his eyes on Stan.

  “Contrary to what you see on television, butlers don’t eavesdrop.”

  I placed a hand on Chamberlain’s shoulder, trying to calm him down.

  “What about Crystal?”

  The old man blushed furiously.

  “Miss Crystal has been here a couple of weeks. I don’t know where the master met her. He brought her home with him a few days ago.”

  “What was his relationship with this Crystal?” Stan asked.