Christmas with the Franks

by Leena Clover

  “You found that strange?” Stan asked.

  “Of course! Anyone can tell she’s a fake. I took a big risk taking her in but Dad wanted her so I couldn’t say much.”

  “You needed Mr. Frank’s permission for everything?”

  Amanda’s eyes hardened but she didn’t answer that.

  “What can you tell us about Crystal?”

  “She’s a stripper, just like she says.”

  “Don’t you think she’s a bad influence on Julie?” I asked.

  I imagined what my Dad’s opinion would be on the topic.

  “Julie was away at college all this time,” Amanda sighed. “I was more worried about Ryan. He’s impressionable. And he’s not that smart.”

  Stan looked up with interest.

  “Was there anything between the two?”

  “Not that I know of,” Amanda admitted. “Crystal stuck to Dad. They took their meals together, played chess and were talking about something all the time.”

  “What did your husband think about Crystal?”

  “He hardly noticed her. My husband is a very busy man. He spends over twelve hours at the plant, working hard. When he’s home, he’s mostly closeted in this office, going over finances and stuff.”

  “We hear you are a bit extra friendly with Noah Williams.”

  Stan was trying hard to sound neutral.

  “What do you mean?” Amanda asked.

  She wasn’t going to make it easy for us.

  “Are you having an affair with Noah?”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Are you, Mrs. Frank?”

  “Whoever told you that is lying. He’s my husband’s brother, for heaven’s sake.”

  A thin line of perspiration had appeared on Amanda’s upper lip. She was clearly lying through her teeth.

  “More than one person has told us about this.”

  “I won’t say any more on the topic. What does it have to do with Dad’s death anyway?”

  “We have to look at all the angles,” Stan said pompously. “Both you and Mr. Williams are closely related to the deceased.”

  “What about Ted Junior?” I asked, drawing Stan away from the subject.

  I felt it was too early to put Amanda on the spot. Maybe Chamberlain and Ryan were wrong about the affair.

  “What do you think of your husband?”

  “Ted’s a good man. He was a bit of a wuss when it came to his father though. He didn’t stand up to Dad often enough.”

  “Can you tell us about this business deal he was talking about?”

  Amanda shook her head in denial.

  “I didn’t meddle in the business. I left it to the men. They fought over it often enough. They didn’t need one more person throwing her opinions in the mix.”

  I suspected Amanda had a busy social life centered around shopping and the country club. She could care less where the money came from.

  “What about Sophia Frank?” Stan moved on. “Did you know she was coming here today?”

  Amanda shook her head again.

  “That was a surprise. Mother has never come here in the winter, certainly not at Christmas time.”

  “Turned out to be quite a momentous occasion,” I said under my breath.

  “Sophia hated Mr. Frank, didn’t she?”

  Amanda nodded.

  “She found out about Dad’s affair some years ago. Dad had stopped seeing the woman. We didn’t know about Noah’s existence at that time. But Mom felt betrayed. She walked out at that time and never came back. Personally, I think she was just tired of living in this small town.”

  “Tired of living in this mansion?” I exclaimed. “I know plenty of women who would love to be bored like this.”

  “She lives at a pretty expensive place,” Amanda winced. “She has fun. I guess something went wrong with her monthly allowance.”

  “Your son mentioned a cruise,” I told her.

  “Oh yes! That annual cruise.” Amanda raised her eyebrows. “It’s a big thing with her. She books the most luxurious suite on an expensive cruise line and chooses a 2-3 week long cruise. Her best friends join her on it.”

  “Is there a reason Mr. Frank would deliberately not book the cruise?” Stan asked.

  “I don’t know. Dad didn’t do this kind of stuff himself. He has an office full of people to do it for him.”

  “But he could have directed someone to not book the tickets?”

  “I guess so,” Amanda nodded.

  I didn’t get what the fuss was.

  “What’s so important about the cruise? Couldn’t she vacation in Europe or something instead? You think she came here to confront him about it?”

  “I don’t know. I saw her talking to Dad after dinner.”

  “About what?”

  “I haven’t caught up with her since then. Maybe you can talk to her.”

  We heard a meow outside the door. I opened it and found Chorizo nuzzling against the door. I picked her up and brought her inside.

  “That blasted cat!” Amanda exclaimed. “She’s underfoot all the time.”

  Chorizo quivered and snapped at Amanda.

  “She could answer all your questions. Dad always had her in his lap, wherever he went.”

  “Looks like she’s hungry,” I said. “Do you know where they keep the cat food?”

  “You’ll have to ask Chamberlain, I’m afraid.”

  I pushed open the door with Chorizo in my arms and walked to the kitchen. I set her down, hoping she would stay put. I poured some milk into a shallow plate and set it down on the floor. It would have to be enough until Chamberlain got up to take care of her properly.

  Chorizo lapped up all the milk and licked her whiskers. Her eyes drooped and I wondered if she was sleepy. I bundled her in my arms again and walked back to Ted Junior’s study.

  Stan was writing something and Amanda was gone.

  “Did you let her go already?” I asked.

  “She wasn’t giving away much.”

  Stan yawned and that set me off. I set Chorizo down on a chair and collapsed onto one of the couches. I put my feet up, not caring about etiquette. There was no one around to call me out for it, especially my grandma.

  Stan walked over and sat in a chair opposite me. His face looked haggard and his clothes were rumpled. I glanced at the clock on the wall.

  “It’s almost dawn,” I said. “We should take a break.”

  There was a knock on the door and Amanda peeped in. She told Stan about a tiny room she had fixed for him.

  “It’s the old servant’s quarters, I am afraid. It’s cramped but at least you can sleep a bit.”

  Stan thanked her and we both wished her good night.

  “What’s your read on the situation, Meera?” Stan asked me, rubbing his eyes. “Any idea who could have done this?”

  “We need to pinpoint the motive,” I said. “I still think it was money.”

  “Have you seen these people?” Stan asked. “None of them seem to be lacking any.”

  “Rich people’s idea of money is different from ours.”

  “You think that old woman could kill him for the cruise?”

  “That sounds stupid. She could have booked another.”

  “She was so mad she came here to have a fight.”

  “We don’t know why she came here. Let’s ask her when we talk to her.”

  “Let’s talk to the son next,” Stan said. “And then this Noah guy.”

  “You mean in the morning, don’t you? Everyone’s gone up to their rooms.”

  “We should look for the will first thing in the morning. Didn’t the kid say there is a copy in the old man’s office?”

  “You can ask Ted Junior about it,” I said. “He might know where Mr. Frank kept it.”

  “That’s the will everyone knows about,” Stan mused. “What if the old man made a secret will?”

  “Good luck finding it then…” I said.

  “You spent some time with these people e
arlier. Does anyone strike you as a killer?”

  “No one has murderer stamped on their forehead, Stan. Think of all the people you arrested in the past year. All of them were normal people like you and me.”

  “What about the maids that served the food? The butler said they left before the shot was fired. Maybe one of them circled back and did it.”

  “Why would a maid want the old man gone, Stan?”

  “Don’t you have a farfetched theory? Maybe she had an affair with the old man? He seems to be a bit of a loose character.”

  “She would ask for money, maybe do a spot of blackmail. What’s the use of killing the old guy?”

  “Could be an accident,” Stan went on. “Maybe she pointed the gun at him just to threaten him and the gun misfired.”

  “And this girl ran away in the storm? In ten inches of snow?”

  Stan looked defeated.

  “We both need some rest,” he said, standing up. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Meera.”

  I followed Stan up the stairs and started looking for my room. I was sharing it with Dad and Tony. They had left the door slightly ajar so I would know where they were.

  I went in and hopped onto a twin bed. My Dad stirred and murmured in his sleep. I fell asleep almost immediately, dreaming of sausages shooting bullets.

  Chapter 9

  I woke up with a start. The countryside was covered in a thick blanket of snow. Watery sunlight filtered through clouds which hung low. The room was empty but I heard the shower running. Tony stepped out five minutes later, looking fresh and chirpy.

  “Good Morning,” he hollered and I winced.

  “Where’s Dad?”

  “Uncle Andy woke me up before he went down. Have you looked at the time?”

  I leveled my gaze at a clock on the wall and scrambled out of bed. It was almost 9 AM. I had managed to sleep for a few hours. I shuffled into the bathroom and shut the door, drowning out Tony’s voice. He told me he was going down for breakfast.

  I felt human after my shower, although I wore the same clothes I had slept in. Everyone was gathered around the dining table. Breakfast was in full swing.

  Madam Isadora was buttering a piece of toast, laying it on thick. Crystal had a plate of fruit in front of her. I bet she didn’t indulge much in butter.

  Motee Ba placed a hand over my shoulder.

  “Did you sleep well, sweetie?” she asked me.

  I hugged my grandmother and looked over her shoulder. My eyes sought out Dad and Pappa. I wanted to make sure my family was okay.

  Chamberlain placed an empty cup in front of me and poured steaming hot coffee. He added cream and sugar and bowed.

  “Your coffee, Miss.”

  “Thanks, Chamberlain,” I smiled up at him.

  Ryan was tucking into eggs, looking bored. Ted Junior and Amanda were nowhere in sight.

  “We are serving breakfast family style,” Chamberlain told me, pointing to the platters of food on the table.

  There was a big platter of scrambled eggs, breakfast sausage and a pile of toast. Another platter was piled high with muffins.

  “We are keeping it simple,” Chamberlain said. “The cook is a bit emotional this morning.”

  “This is fine, Chamberlain,” I assured him.

  I wondered where Stan was. He walked in just then.

  “I have been talking to the office,” he told me. “The roads are impassable. They will send more men as soon as they can get through. But we are on our own until then.”

  I fixed a plate for myself and started eating.

  “I better continue with the interviews,” Stan said. “Come to the study when you’re done, Meera.”

  “Any chance I can join you today?” Tony asked.

  I shook my head.

  “How about a game or two?” Ryan asked him. “Pool or ping pong – your choice.”

  “Be careful,” Motee Ba said in a worried tone as I got up to leave.

  “Don’t worry. I’m just sitting in.”

  Stan was sharpening a pencil when I entered Ted Junior’s office.

  “Who do you think we should call next?” I asked him.

  “Ted Junior,” he said. “Maybe he can tell us about the will.”

  Ted Junior walked in, making our job easy.

  “Just the man I was looking for,” Stan said with unnecessary cheer.

  Ted Junior had aged a bit overnight. His paunch wobbled as he dragged his feet toward a chair. He was wearing khaki pants again with a black sweater. The sweater had another reindeer on it. Someone must be knitting them for him wholesale. I couldn’t imagine Amanda having the knitting gene. And Sophia seemed a bit too high and mighty.

  “My daughter makes these for me,” he said, as if reading my mind.

  He stared at me with gray eyes that were almost silver. I had begun to associate them with the Frank family now.

  “Any leads yet? The whole town knows you are really good at this stuff.”

  Stan cleared his throat, looking irritated. I answered Ted Junior.

  “We’ve hardly talked to anyone yet, Mr. Ted. It’s not that easy.”

  “We spoke with your wife last night,” Stan began. “And your son. Let’s start with you now.”

  Ted Junior banged a fist on the table.

  “Get on with it. Who would do something so heinous? Attack a poor, helpless old man in his own house?”

  Stan ignored the outburst. Ted Junior’s eyes had watered. I hadn’t expected him to be so open about his grief.

  “Would you say you were close to your father?” Stan asked.

  Junior nodded his head vigorously.

  “Of course I was. I was his only son after all. Well, at least until Noah turned up.”

  He paused and gave us a speculative look.

  “I suppose you have heard about Noah?”

  “We heard some stuff. But why don’t you tell us your version?”

  “There’s nothing much to say. I knew why my mother walked out on Dad. There had been some indiscretion. But none of us knew more than that. I’m sure even Dad wasn’t aware of Noah’s existence. He would never have abandoned him otherwise.”

  “Go on,” Stan said.

  “I was an only child for most of my life. I was in and out of the plant since I was knee high. I went to work there in my teens. Dad ran a tight ship and I followed him around. I learnt everything about the business from him.”

  “Would you say he was good at his work?” I asked.

  “Of course he was. Frank Foods is the top sausage company in the country.”

  “But you weren’t on the same page when it came to running the business?”

  Ted Junior squirmed a bit.

  “Not really.”

  “I was present at the dinner table yesterday,” I reminded him. “Anyone could see you had a difference of opinion.”

  That was putting it mildly.

  “That was just our way,” Junior dismissed. “Look, unlike my son who couldn’t care less, we lived and breathed the business. We have done that for years. We often lost sight of where we were or whether we had an audience. It was just a healthy discussion.”

  “What was this discussion about?” Stan wanted to know.

  “It’s about some steps we need to take,” Ted Junior explained. “I want to expand our product line, cater to the vegetarians. Dad was against it. He didn’t want to bring in outsiders.”

  “You didn’t agree with that?”

  “I didn’t completely disagree with it,” Ted Junior stated. “We hadn’t come to a decision yet. But that’s how it was with us. We would go back and forth over something until we came to an agreement.”

  “What if the old man hadn’t come around to your proposal, Mr. Frank?”

  “It was no big deal. Dad wanted to modernize the plant and improve existing processes. That would have worked well for us too. But introducing plant based products would have put us in a different league.”

  “So you are saying your argu
ments didn’t mean much.”

  Ted Junior nodded emphatically.

  “What do you know about your father’s will?” Stan went on. “Your son mentioned something about it.”

  “Father was very particular about it,” Junior said. “He had nightmares about it. He didn’t want us fighting over money when he was gone. Actually, there weren’t many complications until Noah came around. I was the only son, his only heir, see? I would get it all and then my kids would inherit after me. He just had small legacies to the staff and some charities.”

  “And now that Mr. Williams is here?” Stan asked.

  “Noah doesn’t have a head for business,” Ted Junior dismissed. “Actually, the truth is, he doesn’t want to get off his back.”

  “What do you think about Noah inheriting the business?” I asked.

  “There’s no way that’s going to happen,” Ted Junior exclaimed, getting excited. “He hasn’t worked a single day at Frank Foods. He couldn’t even name five of our products if you asked him to.”

  “But that’s what Mr. Frank hinted at last night,” I reminded him. “How did you feel about that?”

  Ted Junior laughed.

  “That was Dad’s way of getting attention. He knew Noah didn’t have a lick of business sense. He would run the business into the ground within months. And Dad would never tolerate that.”

  “You didn’t feel threatened at all?” I pressed.

  “No, because I know Dad was bluffing.”

  “What about this will your son talked about,” Stan steered us back to the will. “Do you know where it is?”

  “His lawyers,” Ted Junior quipped, “but there should be a copy in his study.”

  “And you’re confident you are the heir according to this will?” Stan asked.

  Ted Junior smiled smugly.

  “Yes, Officer, I am sure.”

  “Did your father trust you would take care of Noah?”

  “He made provisions for him.”

  “That must have come out of your portion,” I mused. “You were okay with that?”

  “Noah had a hard life. I get that. Dad set him up for life. He won’t have to work again. So Dad took a slice out of the pie for Noah. But there’s plenty more left for the rest of us.”