Episode 1 – “Behind Closed Doors”
-Wednesday, April 13, 1949-
-Morning-
Each morning on every street in the small town of Hampshire is greeted by the same sound: the sound of the newspaper hitting the front lawn of each home. This spring morning is no different. The sound of birds chirping fills the air as young Scott Black rides his bicycle down Ceil Drive as he delivers the papers. Scott Black is the son of Hampshire’s richest man, if not the richest man in the entire division of Mayfield. The Black Family lives in a gothic mansion on the top of a high hill in Hampshire. The mansion is known locally as Tudor Close. Stained glass windows, dark grey bricks, and creeping ivy are what by passers see on the mansion, but not many know what happens behind the closed doors. Young Scott is one of the limited few who knows, however.
As Scott passes the final house for delivery he notices that the previous day’s paper is in the same place he left it yesterday. Scott gets off his bicycle and leans it against the white picket fence. Scott takes the morning’s issue of The Daily Echo from the basket on his bicycle and walks up the cobblestone steps to the tudor styled cottage. He gingerly rings the doorbell.
“Ms. Curry.” Scott calls out after ringing the doorbell for the third time. He shrugs his shoulders and puts the newspaper on the front doorstep. He begins to walk towards his bicycle when he hears a dog barking from behind the house. He looks around the quiet street and walks along the flowerbed to the back of the house. He sees rows and rows of herbs and flowers. A small poodle run up to him and barks then walk away from him and heads towards the tool shed anxiously. Scott walks around the clothesline and sees a small tool shed and a seating area containing iron chairs and tables. There are two cups off coffee on the table and a silver coffee pot on a tray. By the seating area, elderly Ms. Curry lays prone on the ground next to an overturned chair.
“Ms. Curry!” Scott rushes over to her and tries to help her up. He then sees a coarse Rope tied tightly around her neck and the redness of her swollen face.
Scott backs away quickly and trips over a flower pot, knocking it over and getting dirt on his arms and knees. He rushes up and untangles himself from the sheets hanging from the clothesline. A figure appears on the other side of the clothesline, silhouetted behind the sheets. This shadow scares the small boy.
“Please help, Ms. Curry is hurt. I think she might be dead!” Scott says trying to catch his breath and calm down.
The figure pushes the sheet out of the way and grabs the boy by the shoulders and quickly covers his mouth. The struggle doesn't last long before the small boy is overcome.
Next door, Mrs. Jane Meadow-Brook walks out to the edge of her driveway and picks up the newspaper. She looks at the headline of the paper and gasps a little.
“BODY OF P.I. FOUND IN FOREST”
Mrs. Meadow-Brook pulls her robe tighter as a cool breeze blows by. She turns and reenters her humble home. She enters the breakfast room to see her housekeeper, Miss Ecru pouring coffee for both herself and her husband.
“Miles,” Jane sits down at the table, “Did you hear about the local murder?”
“A murder?” Miles Meadow-Brook scoffs as he drinks his coffee, “In this village. Don’t be daft.”
“It seems a Private Investigator was found dead in a forest just within the forest outside of the Sylvia and Hugh Black’s home.” Jane says
“Let me see that.” Miles reaches over and takes the paper from his wife, “‘Local Private Investigator Marcus Citrine was found dead at the bottom of a steep cliff in the Hampshire Forest Preserve. The cause of his death is unnatural and is being observed closely by some of Scotland Yard’s finest Detectives. The well-known Winfield Brown has been summoned to work out the death of his ex-partner. Inspector Brown has been relocated to the Police Department in Mayfield…’” Mr. Meadow-Brook stops reading, “I bet it’s a bunch of hogwash so that Brown will become admired and esteemed for solving the death of his associate. They pull this sort of thing all the time. I doubt anyone even died.”
“Still,” Jane says, “I wonder if Sylvia knows anything about it. I assume she would since her son delivers the papers and it happened on her property.”
“I’ll leave it to you to find out all the details.” Miles folds the paper, “I better get off to work. A little miniature crisis at the Courthouse today.”
“I’m sure you’ll work it out.” Jane says
“I’ll be late tonight.” Miles says, “A client of mine is going through a messy divorce and we need to go over some paperwork.”
“Oh,” Jane frowns, “I guess Jessica and I can go out to the À Le Carte Restaurant for dinner tonight.”
“Sounds fine.” Miles says half listening as he grabs his briefcase as he exits the house.
“This is the fourth time this week.” Miss Ecru says removing Mr. Meadow-Brook’s plate from the table
“So it has. Miles is a busy man.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says putting on her glasses and scanning over the announcement section of the paper.
“Oh never mind.” Miss Ecru says as her voice trails off, “It just seems odd that he is working so late.”
“Miss Ecru,” Mrs. Meadow-Brook lowers the paper, “I don’t mean to sound punitive but wouldn’t you find yourself more comfortable in the kitchen scrubbing the pots.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Miss Ecru nods as she carries the dirty dishes to the kitchen, muttering something about rich snobs.
Miss Jessica Meadow-Brook, Miles and Jane’s daughter comes down the stairs looking as lovely as ever.
“Ah Jessica,” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “How about we go out to dinner tonight? À Le Carte?”
“That sounds great. We deserve a treat!” Jessica says, “I’d better get off to school. I will come home directly after.”
“Have a good day, darling.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says canning the obituaries, “Oh how sad. Poor old Mr. Flint passed away.”
In the Dining Room of Tudor Close, Mr. Ash the butler and Mrs. White the housekeeper tend to the family’s breakfast. At the head of the table sits Dr. Hugh Black. To his right is his wife Sylvia and to his left is his teenage son Jet.
“Scott should be back by now.” Dr. Black says spreading jelly on a slice of toast.
“He’s probably dropping off extra newspapers at the Echo.” Mrs. Black says silently.
“Should I leave a plate out for him?” asks Mrs. White motioning to the empty chair
“No.” Dr. Black says, “He’ll be late for school.”
“Send some toast with him on the way to the bus stop.” Mrs. Black says quietly as she begins to dismiss herself from the breakfast table.
“Mr. Ash,” Dr. Black says, “Make sure he gets on the bus. I don’t want him skipping school again.”
“Of course sir.” Mr. Ash says in his usual dull, dry voice
“Jet,” Dr. Black says, “I want you home by 7.”
“Fine.” Jet says standing up and walking towards the doors of the Dining Room, “I’m gonna walk to school.”
“As long as you get there on time.” Dr. Black says finishing his coffee.
Mrs. Black kisses her husband on the head and passes by her son in the Dining Room doorway as she heads towards the staircase. At the top of the stairs is an elderly woman in pink shawls and heavy jewels. She is Claire Rose, Hugh’s elder sister. She gazes at the stained glass window above the front door of the Mansion.
“Good morning Claire.” Mrs. Black says
“There is something heavy in the air.” the cryptic woman says, “Like a dark storm cloud coming in from over the oceans.”
“Do you have any card readings scheduled for today?” Mrs. Black asks politely
“Tell my brother the storm is approaching fast.” Madame Rose says as she walks down the stairs still staring at the large stained glass window. She enters the Lounge leaving Sylvia on the stairs.
“Well I see today is going to be a busy day for Claire” Mrs. Black shrugs her shoulders with a laugh
Jet walks to the front door grabbing his book bag from the Cloak Room. He exits the Mansion and begins to walk down the long, curvy driveway. As soon as he is out of the view of any windows of the Mansion he pulls out a lighter and a rolled joint of marijuana from his bag. He quickly lights it and inhales deeply. He lets his surroundings fade away.
Back on Ceil Drive, across the street from the Meadow-Brook’s home, the Peacock Residence stands tall. The Tudor styled exterior mimics itself as a miniature of Tudor Close. Inside the Dining Room of the Peacock Residence, Miss Cynthia Scarlet sits at the breakfast table alone, waiting for her step mother. The housekeeper, Ms. Myrtle, pours tea in a porcelain tea pot on the center of the table.
“Thank you Melinda.” Miss Scarlet says softly as she admires her reflection in the nearby mirror. The door leading into the Hall opens and Mrs. Penelope Peacock enters.
“Good morning Aunt Penelope.” Miss Scarlet says addressing her step mother as Aunt which she does frequently to irritate her.
“Sorry I wanted to make sure we had enough wine for the party tomorrow night.” Mrs. Peacock says
“Who is invited?” asks Miss Scarlet mixing her orange juice around with a spoon.
“I invited Dr. Black and his wife, the Meadow-Brook’s, and I was thinking about asking that dashing new man who moved in down the street.” Mrs. Peacock says
“That disgusting old general?” Miss Scarlet turns her nose up with disgust.
“Cynthia, he is a Colonel and his is a well distinguished man,” Mrs. Peacock says pouring herself a cup of tea and takes a biscuit from the tiered platter, “He actually is an old friend of Hugh and Sylvia Black. I remember him from a couple dinner parties when you were a little girl. He was rather charming.”
“Oh God,” Miss Scarlet groans as she takes her glass of orange juice, “Please tell me this Colonel isn’t going to be lucky number four.”
“Cynthia,” Mrs. Peacock chokes on her tea in surprise, “I’m not exactly ready for commitment after the bad streak I have had.”
“Three husband’s in fourteen years.” Miss Scarlet pauses for a moment, “I guess you could have done worse.”
“Cynthia, don’t you have some calls to make?” asks Mrs. Peacock, “Boyfriends? Singing coaches? Clothing shops?”
“Actually I do.” Miss Scarlet says, “I was thinking about doing a little spending today. I need new shoes for the party tomorrow. Apparently Chandler likes how my feet look.”
“Charming,” Mrs. Peacock sips her tea, “The things you do to please your men. Make your calls now. I need my Study later.”
Mrs. Peacock reaches into her pocket and pulls out a golden key- the key to her Study. Miss Scarlet takes the key and steps away from the table.
In an old warehouse, Mr. Thallo Green stands before a man who sits tied to a chair. Blood is coming from the man’s nose and his eyes are red and puffy, as if he has been crying.
“Allow me to introduce myself,” Mr. Green says in a deep American accent, “My name is Thallo Green and my sources tell me that you are smoking it all and not paying for it.”
“Please.” The man whimpers, “Help me.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that until we talk.” Mr. Green pulls up a chair and sits down in from of the tied man, “So, what shall we start with?”
“I don’t have the money yet.” The man says
“Well that not good.” Mr. Green feigns sympathy, “Maybe you should have thought about that before you smoked it all.”
“Please.” The man shivers, “I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing and tell me how you intend to pay me back for your negligence.” Mr. Green says pulling a black pistol from his belt.
“Please.” The man whimpers, “I know what your men do. I can help. You can use my strength and I can be one of your thugs.”
“That is very flattering but I don’t hire blubbering cry-babies that can’t even pay back a small pension after an extended due date.” Mr. Green says checking to make sure his gun is loaded
“I have no money.” The man says, “I live in a rundown neighborhood. My parents died and left me with nothing. I have nothing. I am nothing!”
“And you’ll die nothing.” Mr. Green says
A gunshot echoes throughout the warehouse as the man in the chair pitches forward sputtering out blood. He shakes and convulses in pain for a few moments before his body goes still. Two thugs from behind Mr. Green cut the man loose from the chair.
“Clean up the blood, burn the body, and take the rest of the day off.” Mr. Green says
Back at Tudor Close, Mrs. Black finishes putting on her makeup and stands before her vanity, looking deeply into her tired eyes. She walks towards the bedroom door but becomes dizzy and sits down on the divan at the foot of the large canopy bed.
“Are you feeling alright, Mrs. Black?” Mrs. White asks from the doorway of the bedroom.
“Yes, thank you Blanche.” Mrs. Black says, “I’m just feeling a little faint today. I wasn’t very hungry at breakfast. I probably just didn’t eat enough.”
“You don’t think you are coming down with something?” Mrs. White asks
“I don’t think so,” Mrs. Black says, “But to be on the safe side I’ll make an appointment before we leave for Monte Carlo this weekend.”
“Shall I have Mr. Ash call the Clinic?” asks Mrs. White
“No thank you, Mrs. White.” Mrs. Black says, “I’ll stop by after my scheduled tea with Jane. Maybe Dr. Prussian will be able to see me right away.”
“You don’t think its number four do you?” asks Mrs. White motioning to Mrs. Black’s stomach.
“Three, Blanche.” Mrs. Black says, “If it turns out I am pregnant it will be number three. I only have two children remember! If on the slim chance I’m pregnant this will be my third child!”
“Of course, I’m sorry to have upset you ma’am.” Mrs. White nods as she turns to the doorway
“Blanche,” Mrs. Black stops her, “Remember, no one knows what happened to Bryce. No one remembers Bryce. Jet and Scott are my only children!”
“I haven’t said a word.” Mrs. White says, “I’ve carried this burden with me for almost twenty years.”
“And I’d appreciate it if you kept it a little longer.” Mrs. Black says
Mrs. White forces a smile and exits the bedroom. On the vanity next to a hair brush and a mirror is a note written in neat handwriting. It reads:
Dear Mrs. Black,
I know we haven’t really had a chance to get to know each other but I think I can change all of that. Why don’t we get together at the Bluebell Tea House today around noon and discus a dirty little secret that you’ve tried to hide for years? I’m sure there will be a nice little wager you can suggest to keep my lips sealed. I really wished we could get off on a better foot, but given what you did to that baby I don’t think that I can ever treat you like a true friend.
With Regret
Celeste Curry
Mrs. Black takes the note and sets it over the scented candle near the bathroom door. She watches as the note catches fire. Quickly, Mrs. Black drops the remains of the burning letter into the toilet. She flushes the ashes down the drain. From the cracked door leading to the bedroom hallway, Mrs. White watches in curiosity.
In a dark room, Scott Black finds himself shivering in the damp, dark, cold room. He feels around the floor to find a cobblestone floor beneath him.
“Hello?” he calls out silently as his shaky voice seems to be muffled in the dark dungeon, “Someone help me!”
“They won’t.” a voice says in a thick Spanish accent.
“Who’s there?” the frightened child calls out in fear.
“You don’t need to be afraid of me.” The man says, “I’m here for the same reason you are. I saw too much.”
“What?” Scott asks as tears fall down his cheeks
“What is the last thing you remember?” asks the man
“I found my neighbor, Ms. Curry dead.” Scott says
“You did recognize who took you didn’t you?” asks the man
“Yeah, I deliver their paper every day.” Scott says quietly
“For the sake of our lives you never tell the name of the face you saw. We tried to reveal that we know as little as possible. That is how we stay alive.” asks the man
A few houses down from the Peacock Residence, the elderly man, who is Colonel Algernon Mustard, stands in his open Garage. He puts on a pair of rusty colored gloves from a messy tool box as he opens the hood of his light yellow Skoda. He sees Mrs. Peacock walking up the driveway. He closes the lid as she steps in the Garage with him.
“Mrs. Peacock,” Colonel Mustard takes off his right glove and shakes her hand.
“Doing a little tinkering with the car I see?” asks Mrs. Peacock
“I am.” Colonel Mustard says putting the glove back on.
“I didn’t know you had acquired that talent.” Mrs. Peacock runs her white gloved hand along the sparkling exterior of the car.
“Are you having any car troubles?” Colonel Mustard asks
“Just a flat.” Mrs. Peacock says, “I was going to take it in to have it changed…”
“No trouble at all.” Colonel Mustard grabs a jack and a car iron, “You do have a spare?”
“Yes.” Mrs. Peacock smiles
The two begin to walk in the direction of Mrs. Peacock’s house, passing by Scott Black’s bicycle and not thinking about it twice.
“Well as you can guess,” Mrs. Peacock clears her throat politely, “I didn’t just come over to ask you to change my tire.”
“Oh?” Colonel Mustard asks as they begin to walk up her driveway
“I’m holding a dinner party tonight.” Mrs. Peacock says, “It’s a couple’s party. The Black’s the Meadow-Brooks. The only problem is that I don’t have a man to escort me.”
“Say no more.” Colonel Mustard says, “My old suit was getting dusty in the wardrobe.”
“Oh Colonel, you truly are a life saver!” Mrs. Peacock exclaims with relief, “It’s tonight at 6.30. You won’t need to dress fancy, just casual clothes.”
“Oh of course.” Colonel Mustard says, “I’m new to small town dinner parties and garden parties. I have only attended a few dinner parties by Hugh Black and they were quite formal.”
“Oh, I’ll have to have you as my guest to the Black’s annual garden party. Then you can break out that dusty old suit!” Mrs. Peacock unlocks her garage door, “They always throw the most elaborate parties. Croquet, tea, a string quartet near the Gazebo.”
“You can always see their luxury.” Colonel Mustard points beyond some trees to the tall pointed roof of Tudor Close in the distance.
“Yes.” Mrs. Peacock says, “Tudor Close was one of the first buildings in this part of Mayfield. The entire town of Hampshire was built around the mansion. It used to be a lonely mansion out here alone in the countryside. But soon family members of the Black’s wanted to live nearby so several fancy houses like the ones here on Ceil Drive were built. Soon afterwards a market, church, and restaurants. A community began.”
“I take it you are rather close to the family and the marvelous history.” Colonel Mustard asks
“Well,” Mrs. Peacock says as Colonel Mustard begins to work on her royal blue Rolls Royce, “I’ll have to let you in on a little secret that Mrs. Black doesn’t know about.”
“I’ll keep my lips sealed.” Colonel Mustard says
“Hugh and I were engaged for a while in the early 1920s.” Mrs. Peacock says
“I see.” Colonel Mustard says, “You think that would affect your friendship with Mrs. Black.”
“Oh, Colonel,” Mrs. Peacock chuckles, “I didn’t mean to give you the impression that Mrs. Black and I are friends.”
“Oh.” Colonel Mustard says leaning the flat tire against an icebox.
“I despise the woman.” Mrs. Peacock says, “However, even though the rough break up with Hugh, we still managed to remain good friends. But I’ve moved on from Hugh. After all, I’ve got a dashing military man to escort me to my party tonight.”
“Mrs. Peacock,” Colonel Mustard sits up from next to her car
“Please, call me Penelope.” Mrs. Peacock says, “Mrs. Peacock is too formal.”
“Penelope,” Colonel Mustard continues as he takes off his left glove, “I’m married.”
Mrs. Peacock looks down at the gold band around his finger, “Oh.” She is lost for words, “I just didn’t see you with a woman around… so I assumed…”
“My wife is at home with her parent’s in Italy until her father recovers from an illness.” Colonel Mustard says, “You may have heard of my wife.”
“Is she famous or notable?” asks Mrs. Peacock
“My wife is Dame Constance Olivine.” Colonel Mustard says, “She never took my surname because of the publicity.”
“The press doesn’t know you are married?” asks Mrs. Peacock
“We eloped.” Colonel Mustard says, “Less than a year ago.”
“Her parents?” Mrs. Peacock says, “I’ve read so much about the Olivine family, surely the Viscount and Viscountess would have announced the marriage?”
“They just think she is seeing a British suitor.” Colonel Mustard says, “We wanted our love to be between us. Not between us and most of Italy.”
“Living in secret is so difficult.” Mrs. Peacock says sympathetically
“You are living in secret?” asks Colonel Mustard with curiosity
“What?” Mrs. Peacock asks quickly, “No. No. I was just saying in general it must be hard to live in secret. My life is an open book. I’ve never done anything wrong.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Colonel Mustard chuckles
At the end of Ceil Drive, in the neighborhood Tennis Courts, Miss Cynthia Scarlet is being trained by a much younger, blonde man.
“Chandler,” Miss Scarlet giggles as he rubs his hand along her soft arm, “Shouldn’t we be practicing?”
“Of course,” Chandler Weiss says running around the net and picking up his Tennis Racquet. Miss Scarlet serves the ball, far too high.
“Damn.” Miss Scarlet stomps her foot as she watches it fly over the hedge.
“It probably landed in the Pearl’s swimming pool.” Chandler says, “They’ll fish it out.”
“Maybe I should stick to backyard badminton.” Miss Scarlet chuckles as she takes another ball out of the bag.
“After all the free lessons I’ve give you?” Chandler feigns insult
“Oh they have their own price.” Miss Scarlet says with a smirk. She looks up at the puffy white clouds on the light blue sky and smiles, “It’s such a nice day. Maybe we should have a picnic.”
“A picnic?” asks Chandler as he fingers with the netting of his racquet
“Yeah.” Miss Scarlet says, “Let’s skip lessons today and go to the park.”
“I don’t know.” Chandler says, “I’ve got lessons with Ms. Curry later today; two hours’ worth. She missed yesterday’s lessons.”
“Well the old lady can wait one more day.” Miss Scarlet says rushing over to Chandler’s side of the court, “Besides, I’ve got something she doesn’t have.” Miss Scarlet seductively walks over and picks up her bag and racquet.
“I’ll let her know.” Chandler says, “I just think it will be in bad taste if she shows up and I’m not here.”
“She didn’t have the decency to call you yesterday and tell you that she wasn’t going to be able to come.” Miss Scarlet says
“Two wrongs don’t make a right.” Chandler winks
“Always the good little churchboy.” Miss Scarlet smiles as they walk back to the Peacock Residence. Mr. Weiss crosses the street and heads to Ms. Curry’s house as Miss Scarlet enters the open Garage to see Colonel Mustard and Mrs. Peacock still talking.
“Aunt Penelope,” Miss Scarlet says, “I thought you had party preparation plans?”
“I’m going to help her.” Colonel Mustard says dusting himself off.
Miss Scarlet gives a strange look to her aunt and then hangs up her bag and racquet on a shelf near the side door of the Garage.
“Cynthia, I’d like you to meet Colonel Mustard.” Mrs. Peacock says, “He just moved down the street.”
“How do you do?” Miss Scarlet holds out her hand delicately.
Colonel Mustard removes his glove and takes her hand and kisses it gently, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Aunt Penelope, I’m going to change and have Miss Myrtle pack a picnic lunch for Chandler and I.” Miss Scarlet says
“Oh that sounds fun.” Mrs. Peacock says, “Why don’t you invite Chandler to the party tonight. It is a couples party after all.”
“That sounds lovely.” Miss Scarlet says entering the house, closing the door.
“So that’s your niece?” Colonel Mustard says
“Sort of.” Mrs. Peacock says, “Technically my step-daughter.”
“Long story?” asks Colonel Mustard
“She was the daughter of my first husband James.” Mrs. Peacock says, “When James and I dated she called me Auntie Penelope. After we were married she kept calling me her aunt even though I was her step-mother. I think she does it now just to spite me.”
“I understand.” Colonel Mustard says
“I’m not so sure you do.” Mrs. Peacock says bitterly
“I’m sorry?” Colonel Mustard looks around rather confused.
“Thank you for fixing my car,” Mrs. Peacock says, “I’m going to run some errands. You are welcome to come with.”
“Oh thank you.” Colonel Mustard says, “I do need a few things. Can we stop at the bank?”
“Of course, just let me get ready. You are welcome to have a drink in the Drawing Room.” Mrs. Peacock smiles. As soon as Colonel Mustard turns his back to Mrs. Peacock, her smile turns to a frown,
At the Curry Home, Chandler rings the doorbell for the finale time. He sighs and turns back to the street. He sees the bicycle leaning against the fence next to the mail box and sees there are several newspapers inside the basket. He looks towards the Meadow-Brook’s home to see Jane Meadow-Brook walking down her front steps and to the sidewalk.
“Mrs. Meadow-Brook,” Chandler stops Mrs. Meadow-Brook at the edge of Ms. Curry’s driveway.
“Oh Chandler,” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “I’m glad I caught you. I have to cancel lessons tomorrow. I’m going to get some new dresses for my trip to Monte Carlo this weekend.”
“That’s perfectly understandable.” Chandler says somewhat distracted, “Have you heard from Ms. Curry recently?”
“No.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “She tends to stick to herself.”
“It’s just that there are papers on her lawn and she missed yesterday’s lessons.” Chandler says, “I’m worried she may have fallen down the stairs or slipped in the tub.”
“I have a spare key.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “We can check just to make sure.”
At Tudor Close, Mrs. White enters the Kitchen to see Mr. Ash mopping the cobblestone floor.
“Spill something?” Mrs. White asks
“Someone did.” Mr. Ash says, “I came in here and a bottle of cooking oil was broken.”
“Has Scotty come home from his paper delivery?” Mrs. White asks, “It’s 8.30. He’ll be tardy.”
“It may have been him that knocked it over. Grabbed something to eat and ran to the bus.” Mr. Ash says, “I was setting fresh logs in the fireplace.”
“On a nice day like this?” asks Mrs. White with a puzzled look on her face.
“The temperatures can be harsh at nighttime.” Mr. Ash says
“I suppose.” Mrs. White says, “Reginald,” she stops the butler as he walks towards the door leading to the Service Stairway.
“Yes?” he turns towards her
“I’ve been thinking a lot about Bryce.” Mrs. White says
“It’s time to put that all behind us.” Mr. Ash says, “Sylvia and Hugh have moved on. Why can’t you?”
“It just feels like there is more to it than Mrs. Black is letting on.” Mrs. White says, “If a toddler dies under purely accidental circumstances, why bury the poor child in the woods?”
“Mrs. White,” Mr. Ash says sternly, “There are some things this family does for a reason. Can you just accept that and move on?”
Mrs. White is taken back by the gruffness of the butler.
In the Entry Hall of the Curry Home, Mrs. Meadow-Brook and Chandler Weiss are met by the smell of air freshener, perfume, and dusty ornaments- the typical thing you’d find in a lonely old woman’s home.
“Ms. Curry?” Mrs. Meadow-Brook calls out, “Are you alright, dear?”
“I’ll check upstairs.” Chandler says climbing the creaky wooden stairs.
Mrs. Meadow-Brook notices the study door partially open. She pushes the door open and sees dozens and dozens of photographs of people. Mrs. Meadow-Brook’s brow becomes stiff as she looks over them with confusion. Her heart sinks when she sees a series of photographs of her husband Miles and a younger woman with strawberry blonde hair. Mrs. Meadow-Brook furiously drops the photographs and looks over at the desk where there are stacks of stationary and a bin filled with clipped out newspaper letters.
Upstairs in the Master Bathroom, Chandler looks around and sees numerous pill bottles and face creams next to the sink. He pulls back the shower curtain to be met by a blow to the head from a piece of Lead Piping. The hand clutching it is wearing rusty colored gloves…
-Morning-
Each morning on every street in the small town of Hampshire is greeted by the same sound: the sound of the newspaper hitting the front lawn of each home. This spring morning is no different. The sound of birds chirping fills the air as young Scott Black rides his bicycle down Ceil Drive as he delivers the papers. Scott Black is the son of Hampshire’s richest man, if not the richest man in the entire division of Mayfield. The Black Family lives in a gothic mansion on the top of a high hill in Hampshire. The mansion is known locally as Tudor Close. Stained glass windows, dark grey bricks, and creeping ivy are what by passers see on the mansion, but not many know what happens behind the closed doors. Young Scott is one of the limited few who knows, however.
As Scott passes the final house for delivery he notices that the previous day’s paper is in the same place he left it yesterday. Scott gets off his bicycle and leans it against the white picket fence. Scott takes the morning’s issue of The Daily Echo from the basket on his bicycle and walks up the cobblestone steps to the tudor styled cottage. He gingerly rings the doorbell.
“Ms. Curry.” Scott calls out after ringing the doorbell for the third time. He shrugs his shoulders and puts the newspaper on the front doorstep. He begins to walk towards his bicycle when he hears a dog barking from behind the house. He looks around the quiet street and walks along the flowerbed to the back of the house. He sees rows and rows of herbs and flowers. A small poodle run up to him and barks then walk away from him and heads towards the tool shed anxiously. Scott walks around the clothesline and sees a small tool shed and a seating area containing iron chairs and tables. There are two cups off coffee on the table and a silver coffee pot on a tray. By the seating area, elderly Ms. Curry lays prone on the ground next to an overturned chair.
“Ms. Curry!” Scott rushes over to her and tries to help her up. He then sees a coarse Rope tied tightly around her neck and the redness of her swollen face.
Scott backs away quickly and trips over a flower pot, knocking it over and getting dirt on his arms and knees. He rushes up and untangles himself from the sheets hanging from the clothesline. A figure appears on the other side of the clothesline, silhouetted behind the sheets. This shadow scares the small boy.
“Please help, Ms. Curry is hurt. I think she might be dead!” Scott says trying to catch his breath and calm down.
The figure pushes the sheet out of the way and grabs the boy by the shoulders and quickly covers his mouth. The struggle doesn't last long before the small boy is overcome.
Next door, Mrs. Jane Meadow-Brook walks out to the edge of her driveway and picks up the newspaper. She looks at the headline of the paper and gasps a little.
“BODY OF P.I. FOUND IN FOREST”
Mrs. Meadow-Brook pulls her robe tighter as a cool breeze blows by. She turns and reenters her humble home. She enters the breakfast room to see her housekeeper, Miss Ecru pouring coffee for both herself and her husband.
“Miles,” Jane sits down at the table, “Did you hear about the local murder?”
“A murder?” Miles Meadow-Brook scoffs as he drinks his coffee, “In this village. Don’t be daft.”
“It seems a Private Investigator was found dead in a forest just within the forest outside of the Sylvia and Hugh Black’s home.” Jane says
“Let me see that.” Miles reaches over and takes the paper from his wife, “‘Local Private Investigator Marcus Citrine was found dead at the bottom of a steep cliff in the Hampshire Forest Preserve. The cause of his death is unnatural and is being observed closely by some of Scotland Yard’s finest Detectives. The well-known Winfield Brown has been summoned to work out the death of his ex-partner. Inspector Brown has been relocated to the Police Department in Mayfield…’” Mr. Meadow-Brook stops reading, “I bet it’s a bunch of hogwash so that Brown will become admired and esteemed for solving the death of his associate. They pull this sort of thing all the time. I doubt anyone even died.”
“Still,” Jane says, “I wonder if Sylvia knows anything about it. I assume she would since her son delivers the papers and it happened on her property.”
“I’ll leave it to you to find out all the details.” Miles folds the paper, “I better get off to work. A little miniature crisis at the Courthouse today.”
“I’m sure you’ll work it out.” Jane says
“I’ll be late tonight.” Miles says, “A client of mine is going through a messy divorce and we need to go over some paperwork.”
“Oh,” Jane frowns, “I guess Jessica and I can go out to the À Le Carte Restaurant for dinner tonight.”
“Sounds fine.” Miles says half listening as he grabs his briefcase as he exits the house.
“This is the fourth time this week.” Miss Ecru says removing Mr. Meadow-Brook’s plate from the table
“So it has. Miles is a busy man.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says putting on her glasses and scanning over the announcement section of the paper.
“Oh never mind.” Miss Ecru says as her voice trails off, “It just seems odd that he is working so late.”
“Miss Ecru,” Mrs. Meadow-Brook lowers the paper, “I don’t mean to sound punitive but wouldn’t you find yourself more comfortable in the kitchen scrubbing the pots.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Miss Ecru nods as she carries the dirty dishes to the kitchen, muttering something about rich snobs.
Miss Jessica Meadow-Brook, Miles and Jane’s daughter comes down the stairs looking as lovely as ever.
“Ah Jessica,” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “How about we go out to dinner tonight? À Le Carte?”
“That sounds great. We deserve a treat!” Jessica says, “I’d better get off to school. I will come home directly after.”
“Have a good day, darling.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says canning the obituaries, “Oh how sad. Poor old Mr. Flint passed away.”
In the Dining Room of Tudor Close, Mr. Ash the butler and Mrs. White the housekeeper tend to the family’s breakfast. At the head of the table sits Dr. Hugh Black. To his right is his wife Sylvia and to his left is his teenage son Jet.
“Scott should be back by now.” Dr. Black says spreading jelly on a slice of toast.
“He’s probably dropping off extra newspapers at the Echo.” Mrs. Black says silently.
“Should I leave a plate out for him?” asks Mrs. White motioning to the empty chair
“No.” Dr. Black says, “He’ll be late for school.”
“Send some toast with him on the way to the bus stop.” Mrs. Black says quietly as she begins to dismiss herself from the breakfast table.
“Mr. Ash,” Dr. Black says, “Make sure he gets on the bus. I don’t want him skipping school again.”
“Of course sir.” Mr. Ash says in his usual dull, dry voice
“Jet,” Dr. Black says, “I want you home by 7.”
“Fine.” Jet says standing up and walking towards the doors of the Dining Room, “I’m gonna walk to school.”
“As long as you get there on time.” Dr. Black says finishing his coffee.
Mrs. Black kisses her husband on the head and passes by her son in the Dining Room doorway as she heads towards the staircase. At the top of the stairs is an elderly woman in pink shawls and heavy jewels. She is Claire Rose, Hugh’s elder sister. She gazes at the stained glass window above the front door of the Mansion.
“Good morning Claire.” Mrs. Black says
“There is something heavy in the air.” the cryptic woman says, “Like a dark storm cloud coming in from over the oceans.”
“Do you have any card readings scheduled for today?” Mrs. Black asks politely
“Tell my brother the storm is approaching fast.” Madame Rose says as she walks down the stairs still staring at the large stained glass window. She enters the Lounge leaving Sylvia on the stairs.
“Well I see today is going to be a busy day for Claire” Mrs. Black shrugs her shoulders with a laugh
Jet walks to the front door grabbing his book bag from the Cloak Room. He exits the Mansion and begins to walk down the long, curvy driveway. As soon as he is out of the view of any windows of the Mansion he pulls out a lighter and a rolled joint of marijuana from his bag. He quickly lights it and inhales deeply. He lets his surroundings fade away.
Back on Ceil Drive, across the street from the Meadow-Brook’s home, the Peacock Residence stands tall. The Tudor styled exterior mimics itself as a miniature of Tudor Close. Inside the Dining Room of the Peacock Residence, Miss Cynthia Scarlet sits at the breakfast table alone, waiting for her step mother. The housekeeper, Ms. Myrtle, pours tea in a porcelain tea pot on the center of the table.
“Thank you Melinda.” Miss Scarlet says softly as she admires her reflection in the nearby mirror. The door leading into the Hall opens and Mrs. Penelope Peacock enters.
“Good morning Aunt Penelope.” Miss Scarlet says addressing her step mother as Aunt which she does frequently to irritate her.
“Sorry I wanted to make sure we had enough wine for the party tomorrow night.” Mrs. Peacock says
“Who is invited?” asks Miss Scarlet mixing her orange juice around with a spoon.
“I invited Dr. Black and his wife, the Meadow-Brook’s, and I was thinking about asking that dashing new man who moved in down the street.” Mrs. Peacock says
“That disgusting old general?” Miss Scarlet turns her nose up with disgust.
“Cynthia, he is a Colonel and his is a well distinguished man,” Mrs. Peacock says pouring herself a cup of tea and takes a biscuit from the tiered platter, “He actually is an old friend of Hugh and Sylvia Black. I remember him from a couple dinner parties when you were a little girl. He was rather charming.”
“Oh God,” Miss Scarlet groans as she takes her glass of orange juice, “Please tell me this Colonel isn’t going to be lucky number four.”
“Cynthia,” Mrs. Peacock chokes on her tea in surprise, “I’m not exactly ready for commitment after the bad streak I have had.”
“Three husband’s in fourteen years.” Miss Scarlet pauses for a moment, “I guess you could have done worse.”
“Cynthia, don’t you have some calls to make?” asks Mrs. Peacock, “Boyfriends? Singing coaches? Clothing shops?”
“Actually I do.” Miss Scarlet says, “I was thinking about doing a little spending today. I need new shoes for the party tomorrow. Apparently Chandler likes how my feet look.”
“Charming,” Mrs. Peacock sips her tea, “The things you do to please your men. Make your calls now. I need my Study later.”
Mrs. Peacock reaches into her pocket and pulls out a golden key- the key to her Study. Miss Scarlet takes the key and steps away from the table.
In an old warehouse, Mr. Thallo Green stands before a man who sits tied to a chair. Blood is coming from the man’s nose and his eyes are red and puffy, as if he has been crying.
“Allow me to introduce myself,” Mr. Green says in a deep American accent, “My name is Thallo Green and my sources tell me that you are smoking it all and not paying for it.”
“Please.” The man whimpers, “Help me.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that until we talk.” Mr. Green pulls up a chair and sits down in from of the tied man, “So, what shall we start with?”
“I don’t have the money yet.” The man says
“Well that not good.” Mr. Green feigns sympathy, “Maybe you should have thought about that before you smoked it all.”
“Please.” The man shivers, “I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing and tell me how you intend to pay me back for your negligence.” Mr. Green says pulling a black pistol from his belt.
“Please.” The man whimpers, “I know what your men do. I can help. You can use my strength and I can be one of your thugs.”
“That is very flattering but I don’t hire blubbering cry-babies that can’t even pay back a small pension after an extended due date.” Mr. Green says checking to make sure his gun is loaded
“I have no money.” The man says, “I live in a rundown neighborhood. My parents died and left me with nothing. I have nothing. I am nothing!”
“And you’ll die nothing.” Mr. Green says
A gunshot echoes throughout the warehouse as the man in the chair pitches forward sputtering out blood. He shakes and convulses in pain for a few moments before his body goes still. Two thugs from behind Mr. Green cut the man loose from the chair.
“Clean up the blood, burn the body, and take the rest of the day off.” Mr. Green says
Back at Tudor Close, Mrs. Black finishes putting on her makeup and stands before her vanity, looking deeply into her tired eyes. She walks towards the bedroom door but becomes dizzy and sits down on the divan at the foot of the large canopy bed.
“Are you feeling alright, Mrs. Black?” Mrs. White asks from the doorway of the bedroom.
“Yes, thank you Blanche.” Mrs. Black says, “I’m just feeling a little faint today. I wasn’t very hungry at breakfast. I probably just didn’t eat enough.”
“You don’t think you are coming down with something?” Mrs. White asks
“I don’t think so,” Mrs. Black says, “But to be on the safe side I’ll make an appointment before we leave for Monte Carlo this weekend.”
“Shall I have Mr. Ash call the Clinic?” asks Mrs. White
“No thank you, Mrs. White.” Mrs. Black says, “I’ll stop by after my scheduled tea with Jane. Maybe Dr. Prussian will be able to see me right away.”
“You don’t think its number four do you?” asks Mrs. White motioning to Mrs. Black’s stomach.
“Three, Blanche.” Mrs. Black says, “If it turns out I am pregnant it will be number three. I only have two children remember! If on the slim chance I’m pregnant this will be my third child!”
“Of course, I’m sorry to have upset you ma’am.” Mrs. White nods as she turns to the doorway
“Blanche,” Mrs. Black stops her, “Remember, no one knows what happened to Bryce. No one remembers Bryce. Jet and Scott are my only children!”
“I haven’t said a word.” Mrs. White says, “I’ve carried this burden with me for almost twenty years.”
“And I’d appreciate it if you kept it a little longer.” Mrs. Black says
Mrs. White forces a smile and exits the bedroom. On the vanity next to a hair brush and a mirror is a note written in neat handwriting. It reads:
Dear Mrs. Black,
I know we haven’t really had a chance to get to know each other but I think I can change all of that. Why don’t we get together at the Bluebell Tea House today around noon and discus a dirty little secret that you’ve tried to hide for years? I’m sure there will be a nice little wager you can suggest to keep my lips sealed. I really wished we could get off on a better foot, but given what you did to that baby I don’t think that I can ever treat you like a true friend.
With Regret
Celeste Curry
Mrs. Black takes the note and sets it over the scented candle near the bathroom door. She watches as the note catches fire. Quickly, Mrs. Black drops the remains of the burning letter into the toilet. She flushes the ashes down the drain. From the cracked door leading to the bedroom hallway, Mrs. White watches in curiosity.
In a dark room, Scott Black finds himself shivering in the damp, dark, cold room. He feels around the floor to find a cobblestone floor beneath him.
“Hello?” he calls out silently as his shaky voice seems to be muffled in the dark dungeon, “Someone help me!”
“They won’t.” a voice says in a thick Spanish accent.
“Who’s there?” the frightened child calls out in fear.
“You don’t need to be afraid of me.” The man says, “I’m here for the same reason you are. I saw too much.”
“What?” Scott asks as tears fall down his cheeks
“What is the last thing you remember?” asks the man
“I found my neighbor, Ms. Curry dead.” Scott says
“You did recognize who took you didn’t you?” asks the man
“Yeah, I deliver their paper every day.” Scott says quietly
“For the sake of our lives you never tell the name of the face you saw. We tried to reveal that we know as little as possible. That is how we stay alive.” asks the man
A few houses down from the Peacock Residence, the elderly man, who is Colonel Algernon Mustard, stands in his open Garage. He puts on a pair of rusty colored gloves from a messy tool box as he opens the hood of his light yellow Skoda. He sees Mrs. Peacock walking up the driveway. He closes the lid as she steps in the Garage with him.
“Mrs. Peacock,” Colonel Mustard takes off his right glove and shakes her hand.
“Doing a little tinkering with the car I see?” asks Mrs. Peacock
“I am.” Colonel Mustard says putting the glove back on.
“I didn’t know you had acquired that talent.” Mrs. Peacock runs her white gloved hand along the sparkling exterior of the car.
“Are you having any car troubles?” Colonel Mustard asks
“Just a flat.” Mrs. Peacock says, “I was going to take it in to have it changed…”
“No trouble at all.” Colonel Mustard grabs a jack and a car iron, “You do have a spare?”
“Yes.” Mrs. Peacock smiles
The two begin to walk in the direction of Mrs. Peacock’s house, passing by Scott Black’s bicycle and not thinking about it twice.
“Well as you can guess,” Mrs. Peacock clears her throat politely, “I didn’t just come over to ask you to change my tire.”
“Oh?” Colonel Mustard asks as they begin to walk up her driveway
“I’m holding a dinner party tonight.” Mrs. Peacock says, “It’s a couple’s party. The Black’s the Meadow-Brooks. The only problem is that I don’t have a man to escort me.”
“Say no more.” Colonel Mustard says, “My old suit was getting dusty in the wardrobe.”
“Oh Colonel, you truly are a life saver!” Mrs. Peacock exclaims with relief, “It’s tonight at 6.30. You won’t need to dress fancy, just casual clothes.”
“Oh of course.” Colonel Mustard says, “I’m new to small town dinner parties and garden parties. I have only attended a few dinner parties by Hugh Black and they were quite formal.”
“Oh, I’ll have to have you as my guest to the Black’s annual garden party. Then you can break out that dusty old suit!” Mrs. Peacock unlocks her garage door, “They always throw the most elaborate parties. Croquet, tea, a string quartet near the Gazebo.”
“You can always see their luxury.” Colonel Mustard points beyond some trees to the tall pointed roof of Tudor Close in the distance.
“Yes.” Mrs. Peacock says, “Tudor Close was one of the first buildings in this part of Mayfield. The entire town of Hampshire was built around the mansion. It used to be a lonely mansion out here alone in the countryside. But soon family members of the Black’s wanted to live nearby so several fancy houses like the ones here on Ceil Drive were built. Soon afterwards a market, church, and restaurants. A community began.”
“I take it you are rather close to the family and the marvelous history.” Colonel Mustard asks
“Well,” Mrs. Peacock says as Colonel Mustard begins to work on her royal blue Rolls Royce, “I’ll have to let you in on a little secret that Mrs. Black doesn’t know about.”
“I’ll keep my lips sealed.” Colonel Mustard says
“Hugh and I were engaged for a while in the early 1920s.” Mrs. Peacock says
“I see.” Colonel Mustard says, “You think that would affect your friendship with Mrs. Black.”
“Oh, Colonel,” Mrs. Peacock chuckles, “I didn’t mean to give you the impression that Mrs. Black and I are friends.”
“Oh.” Colonel Mustard says leaning the flat tire against an icebox.
“I despise the woman.” Mrs. Peacock says, “However, even though the rough break up with Hugh, we still managed to remain good friends. But I’ve moved on from Hugh. After all, I’ve got a dashing military man to escort me to my party tonight.”
“Mrs. Peacock,” Colonel Mustard sits up from next to her car
“Please, call me Penelope.” Mrs. Peacock says, “Mrs. Peacock is too formal.”
“Penelope,” Colonel Mustard continues as he takes off his left glove, “I’m married.”
Mrs. Peacock looks down at the gold band around his finger, “Oh.” She is lost for words, “I just didn’t see you with a woman around… so I assumed…”
“My wife is at home with her parent’s in Italy until her father recovers from an illness.” Colonel Mustard says, “You may have heard of my wife.”
“Is she famous or notable?” asks Mrs. Peacock
“My wife is Dame Constance Olivine.” Colonel Mustard says, “She never took my surname because of the publicity.”
“The press doesn’t know you are married?” asks Mrs. Peacock
“We eloped.” Colonel Mustard says, “Less than a year ago.”
“Her parents?” Mrs. Peacock says, “I’ve read so much about the Olivine family, surely the Viscount and Viscountess would have announced the marriage?”
“They just think she is seeing a British suitor.” Colonel Mustard says, “We wanted our love to be between us. Not between us and most of Italy.”
“Living in secret is so difficult.” Mrs. Peacock says sympathetically
“You are living in secret?” asks Colonel Mustard with curiosity
“What?” Mrs. Peacock asks quickly, “No. No. I was just saying in general it must be hard to live in secret. My life is an open book. I’ve never done anything wrong.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Colonel Mustard chuckles
At the end of Ceil Drive, in the neighborhood Tennis Courts, Miss Cynthia Scarlet is being trained by a much younger, blonde man.
“Chandler,” Miss Scarlet giggles as he rubs his hand along her soft arm, “Shouldn’t we be practicing?”
“Of course,” Chandler Weiss says running around the net and picking up his Tennis Racquet. Miss Scarlet serves the ball, far too high.
“Damn.” Miss Scarlet stomps her foot as she watches it fly over the hedge.
“It probably landed in the Pearl’s swimming pool.” Chandler says, “They’ll fish it out.”
“Maybe I should stick to backyard badminton.” Miss Scarlet chuckles as she takes another ball out of the bag.
“After all the free lessons I’ve give you?” Chandler feigns insult
“Oh they have their own price.” Miss Scarlet says with a smirk. She looks up at the puffy white clouds on the light blue sky and smiles, “It’s such a nice day. Maybe we should have a picnic.”
“A picnic?” asks Chandler as he fingers with the netting of his racquet
“Yeah.” Miss Scarlet says, “Let’s skip lessons today and go to the park.”
“I don’t know.” Chandler says, “I’ve got lessons with Ms. Curry later today; two hours’ worth. She missed yesterday’s lessons.”
“Well the old lady can wait one more day.” Miss Scarlet says rushing over to Chandler’s side of the court, “Besides, I’ve got something she doesn’t have.” Miss Scarlet seductively walks over and picks up her bag and racquet.
“I’ll let her know.” Chandler says, “I just think it will be in bad taste if she shows up and I’m not here.”
“She didn’t have the decency to call you yesterday and tell you that she wasn’t going to be able to come.” Miss Scarlet says
“Two wrongs don’t make a right.” Chandler winks
“Always the good little churchboy.” Miss Scarlet smiles as they walk back to the Peacock Residence. Mr. Weiss crosses the street and heads to Ms. Curry’s house as Miss Scarlet enters the open Garage to see Colonel Mustard and Mrs. Peacock still talking.
“Aunt Penelope,” Miss Scarlet says, “I thought you had party preparation plans?”
“I’m going to help her.” Colonel Mustard says dusting himself off.
Miss Scarlet gives a strange look to her aunt and then hangs up her bag and racquet on a shelf near the side door of the Garage.
“Cynthia, I’d like you to meet Colonel Mustard.” Mrs. Peacock says, “He just moved down the street.”
“How do you do?” Miss Scarlet holds out her hand delicately.
Colonel Mustard removes his glove and takes her hand and kisses it gently, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Aunt Penelope, I’m going to change and have Miss Myrtle pack a picnic lunch for Chandler and I.” Miss Scarlet says
“Oh that sounds fun.” Mrs. Peacock says, “Why don’t you invite Chandler to the party tonight. It is a couples party after all.”
“That sounds lovely.” Miss Scarlet says entering the house, closing the door.
“So that’s your niece?” Colonel Mustard says
“Sort of.” Mrs. Peacock says, “Technically my step-daughter.”
“Long story?” asks Colonel Mustard
“She was the daughter of my first husband James.” Mrs. Peacock says, “When James and I dated she called me Auntie Penelope. After we were married she kept calling me her aunt even though I was her step-mother. I think she does it now just to spite me.”
“I understand.” Colonel Mustard says
“I’m not so sure you do.” Mrs. Peacock says bitterly
“I’m sorry?” Colonel Mustard looks around rather confused.
“Thank you for fixing my car,” Mrs. Peacock says, “I’m going to run some errands. You are welcome to come with.”
“Oh thank you.” Colonel Mustard says, “I do need a few things. Can we stop at the bank?”
“Of course, just let me get ready. You are welcome to have a drink in the Drawing Room.” Mrs. Peacock smiles. As soon as Colonel Mustard turns his back to Mrs. Peacock, her smile turns to a frown,
At the Curry Home, Chandler rings the doorbell for the finale time. He sighs and turns back to the street. He sees the bicycle leaning against the fence next to the mail box and sees there are several newspapers inside the basket. He looks towards the Meadow-Brook’s home to see Jane Meadow-Brook walking down her front steps and to the sidewalk.
“Mrs. Meadow-Brook,” Chandler stops Mrs. Meadow-Brook at the edge of Ms. Curry’s driveway.
“Oh Chandler,” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “I’m glad I caught you. I have to cancel lessons tomorrow. I’m going to get some new dresses for my trip to Monte Carlo this weekend.”
“That’s perfectly understandable.” Chandler says somewhat distracted, “Have you heard from Ms. Curry recently?”
“No.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “She tends to stick to herself.”
“It’s just that there are papers on her lawn and she missed yesterday’s lessons.” Chandler says, “I’m worried she may have fallen down the stairs or slipped in the tub.”
“I have a spare key.” Mrs. Meadow-Brook says, “We can check just to make sure.”
At Tudor Close, Mrs. White enters the Kitchen to see Mr. Ash mopping the cobblestone floor.
“Spill something?” Mrs. White asks
“Someone did.” Mr. Ash says, “I came in here and a bottle of cooking oil was broken.”
“Has Scotty come home from his paper delivery?” Mrs. White asks, “It’s 8.30. He’ll be tardy.”
“It may have been him that knocked it over. Grabbed something to eat and ran to the bus.” Mr. Ash says, “I was setting fresh logs in the fireplace.”
“On a nice day like this?” asks Mrs. White with a puzzled look on her face.
“The temperatures can be harsh at nighttime.” Mr. Ash says
“I suppose.” Mrs. White says, “Reginald,” she stops the butler as he walks towards the door leading to the Service Stairway.
“Yes?” he turns towards her
“I’ve been thinking a lot about Bryce.” Mrs. White says
“It’s time to put that all behind us.” Mr. Ash says, “Sylvia and Hugh have moved on. Why can’t you?”
“It just feels like there is more to it than Mrs. Black is letting on.” Mrs. White says, “If a toddler dies under purely accidental circumstances, why bury the poor child in the woods?”
“Mrs. White,” Mr. Ash says sternly, “There are some things this family does for a reason. Can you just accept that and move on?”
Mrs. White is taken back by the gruffness of the butler.
In the Entry Hall of the Curry Home, Mrs. Meadow-Brook and Chandler Weiss are met by the smell of air freshener, perfume, and dusty ornaments- the typical thing you’d find in a lonely old woman’s home.
“Ms. Curry?” Mrs. Meadow-Brook calls out, “Are you alright, dear?”
“I’ll check upstairs.” Chandler says climbing the creaky wooden stairs.
Mrs. Meadow-Brook notices the study door partially open. She pushes the door open and sees dozens and dozens of photographs of people. Mrs. Meadow-Brook’s brow becomes stiff as she looks over them with confusion. Her heart sinks when she sees a series of photographs of her husband Miles and a younger woman with strawberry blonde hair. Mrs. Meadow-Brook furiously drops the photographs and looks over at the desk where there are stacks of stationary and a bin filled with clipped out newspaper letters.
Upstairs in the Master Bathroom, Chandler looks around and sees numerous pill bottles and face creams next to the sink. He pulls back the shower curtain to be met by a blow to the head from a piece of Lead Piping. The hand clutching it is wearing rusty colored gloves…