CHAPTER ONE
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My cousins Sarah and Benjamin stood with me on the front porch of our Great-grandfather Aaron Clayburg’s two story, white clapboard home. Snow flurries were blowing in what was an unseasonably cold March wind. This was some more first day of spring.
Shivering, we watched children playing in the park which was across the narrow street from us. Some of the children were trying to build snowmen. Other children had kites flying among the snowflakes. As we watched the children dance across the icy ground, joyfully fighting to control their kites in the wind, we listened to their laughter. We also listened to the weeping coming from inside of great-grandfather’s house. This day was a sad day. Great-grandfather Aaron Clayburg was dead.
Sarah stared at the green rocking chair next to her and solemnly reflected, “Great-grandfather use to sit out here for hours on end. When the kids over in the park would get rowdy, he’d fuss, but I know that he secretly loved watching them play.”
Benjamin peeled at the grey paint on the banister which had begun to flake with age. “Gramps was a card. He’d start all sorts of rumors among the neighborhood kids. Once, he had some of them believing old Widow Hannery’s husband was a bank robber. He told them he had heard rumors that a small fortune was hidden in her flower garden. As always, some of the children believed him. They dug her entire garden up. I asked gramps why he told them such a thing. He said he couldn’t stand to get near enough to Hannery’s stinking gardenias to dig them up himself. So he gave the children a little incentive to do the job for him.”
It was hard to believe great-grandfather was dead. He was 90 years old, but he had been in good health.
Sarah said, “Last Saturday I visited with great-grandfather. He fussed at me because I didn’t call before popping in on him. After he got over being angry, he apologized and invited me to stay for lunch. All during lunch he seemed awfully anxious about something. I got the feeling someone was there, hiding somewhere in the house, that gramps wasn’t telling me about. Before I left, father showed up, and he acted even more weird than gramps.”
Benjamin shook his head. “You and your imagination.”
I asked, “Where is your father? I thought he would be with the two of you. I swear your father purposely avoids me.”
Benjamin said, “After mother disappeared, father pawned Sarah and me off on your mother. When your mother’s health failed her, he did nothing to help. Maybe father avoids you because he feels guilty.”
Sarah said, “He should feel guilty. When Aunt Millicent died, father didn’t even attend her funeral. He is not going to attend great-grandfather’s funeral either. I called him. He said he has got some kind of business that he has to take care of. I am thoroughly pissed.”
Benjamin cocked his head. “Father use to never come about.” Benjamin stared at me like he was considering something. “The only time Sarah and I would see him was when we visited him abroad. Even though you and I are the same age, you’ve always been more of a father to me than he was.”
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I said, “After mother died, I don’t know what we would have done without great-grandfather.”
Sarah said, “I’m going to really miss him. He was a cuss, but I loved him.”
I looked at Sarah and Benjamin. “We need to go on inside.”
Benjamin looked away. “I don’t think I can.”
Sarah burst out crying.
I told them, “Great-grandfather had a long life. He had a good life. Don’t cry. Let’s go say good-bye.”
Reluctantly, I opened the door. I stepped through the doorway and stopped. Right beside me, I saw Great-grandfather Clayburg’s open coffin. I stared into the coffin at his rigid face. It was covered with thick, white make-up. I noticed his once bushy white hair had been shortened and greased down. Suddenly, I caught a whiff of putrid smelling gardenias. I was furious. Great-grandfather hated gardenias. Then I saw the Widow Hannery sitting in the corner and crying. I no longer felt angry; just sad.
All of a sudden, a wasp flew into my hair and stuck its stinger deep down into my scalp. It stung like hell. I moaned, “I’ve been stung in the head.” Three seconds later, I fell against great-grandfather’s coffin and then hit the floor. I passed out.
Shortly afterwards, I thought I woke up in great-grandfather’s favorite black leather armchair. Great-grandfather was standing over me. I felt like a little child again. Old man Hannery was sitting on a stool beside me and was cleaning where my arms and face were cut. I saw Mrs. Hannery standing on the other side of me, holding a bottle of iodine. She told me that I was lucky; I wasn’t going to need stitches. I asked great-grandfather what happened. He answered me with a question. “You don’t remember?”
Without warning, a smell of ammonia burned my nose. My scalp hurt with a tingling, biting pain. Great-grandfather vanished and I saw some strange man standing with the Widow Hannery. They were looking down at me slumped in great-grandfather’s favorite armchair.
Benjamin put his hand on my shoulder, “You okay?”
“I’ll live.”
The man standing with the Widow Hannery said, “Well, if you don’t, I’ll do you up nice.”
Frowning, Mrs. Hannery said, “This is Myles Morton. He’s the mortician who prepared Aaron for burial.”
I gave Myles Morton sort of a dirty look. I started to tell him that I didn’t like the way his people made great-grandfather look. But I didn’t say anything.
Sarah said, “You sure are lucky you have been getting those bee serum allergy shots. Remember the last time you were stung by a bee. We had to rush you to the hospital. For a minute I thought we were going to have to rush you to the hospital again, but you don’t seem to be having any trouble breathing. You’re not swelling up.”
“I’ll be okay.”
Mrs. Hannery sniffled into her white handkerchief. “I am so sorry Matthew. When I saw that first wasp fly out of the covering which had been placed over the gardenia’s, I should have taken them outside. I don’t know who is responsible for those damn gardenias being here. Aaron hated gardenias.”
Surprised, I said, “You mean you are not responsible for the gardenias being here?”
“Of course not. I know Aaron hated gardenias. Besides, I have better sense than to send gardenias in this cold. Gardenias wilt especially bad in this kind of weather. Just between the greenhouse and here, the leaves have started to yellow. I’m sure the reason they were covered in damp burlap was to keep them moist and to protect them from the cold, but it didn’t work.”
Myles Morton said, “Don’t fuss at Mrs. Hannery. She has been real upset at Mr. Aaron Clayburg’s death. But that didn’t stop her from keeping herself together long enough to make the funeral arrangements; arrangements which apparently your family was unable to handle. You should thank her.”
I said, “I’m not fussing at Mrs. Hannery. Ma’am, I do thank you.”
Sarah said, “You made the arrangements.”
“Yes. A friend helped. The three of you were so upset. I called Kenneth and volunteered to make the arrangements. He thanked me. I’m sorry if I’ve made a mess of things.”
I said, “Of course you haven’t, and we thank you.”
Sarah said, “Father should of taken care of the arrangements. It was wrong of him to put all of this off on you. When he told me that he had someone taking care of the funeral details, I thought he meant one of the people who works for him. I’m sorry we didn’t help you.”
“I thought the world of Aaron. I can’t believe he is gone. If I knew who was responsible, I. . . .”
We all stared at Mrs. Hannery. I asked, “What do you mean; responsible?”
“Kenneth didn’t tell you about the parchment found next to Aaron’s body?”
“No.”
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“Kenneth is like that Officer Carlson. Officer Carlson thinks the parchment being there was just a coincidence. They think Aaron just happened to be looking at the parchment when he died. But I don’t.”
A friend, Officer Robins stepped up. “Ada Hannery, now don’t you start again. There is not any telling how long Aaron had that parchment. He just happened to be looking at it when he had the heart attack.”
“I don’t believe Aaron just happened to be looking at the parchment when he died. I don’t believe it.”
Officer Robins said, “Okay. Maybe Aaron didn’t just happen to be looking at the parchment. Maybe Aaron realized he was dying and pulled it out to create one last mystery and to pull one last joke on you.”
Mrs. Hannery halfway smiled. “That would be Aaron.
But. . . .”
“Now no buts about it. Don’t get yourself all worked up.”
Myles Morton said, “The autopsy that was performed showed Mr. Clayburg died of a massive coronary. There was no sign that the heart attack had been induced with drugs. He was an old man. He died of natural causes.”
Mrs. Hannery stated, “Fear, stress, can induce a heart attack.”
I asked, “What kind of parchment was found? Do you remember what was written on it?”
Myles Morton interrupted. “I’ll be back in the morning to take the body to the cemetery for burial.”
Mrs. Hannery said, “Preacher Smith will be at the cemetery at about 9:00 AM for the grave side service.”
Myles Morton solemnly shook his head. “That will be fine.” Then Myles Morton and Officer Robins left together.
As soon as they left, Mrs. Hannery said, “The yellowed piece of parchment read, ‘In the end, all debts shall be accounted for. But until final determination of proper disposition, the account of what happened in and beyond the Halls of Lockstock shall remain in suspense. The charges of murder shall be marked with red ink in a ledger as UNPAID. The ledger shall be closed and titled, THE SUSPENSE ACCOUNT.”
Benjamin said, “Halls of Lockstock? Halls of this county?”
A woman walked up. “Lockstock is also the name of a mansion which stands on a pier partially over the ocean. My estranged husband lives there. Now Ada, stop upsetting Matthew, Benjamin, and Sarah. There is nothing to that parchment.”
I stared at the woman. She looked familiar, but I didn’t know her.
Sarah asked, “You know us?”
The woman pointed to the photograph hanging over the mantel piece. The photograph was of Sarah, Benjamin, and myself. The woman said, “Aaron use to speak very fondly of you. He loved you very much.”
Mrs. Hannery said, “This is Mrs. Claudius Urbane. Her husband is a very famous movie producer.”
Benjamin asked, “What movies has he. . . .”
Mrs. Urbane stopped Benjamin. She said, “My husband and I are separated. If you don’t mind, I really do not wish to talk about him or his movies.”
Sarah quickly looked away from Mrs. Urbane. Sarah asked Mrs. Hannery, “What do you think the parchment means? Exactly how do you think it is connected to great-grandfather’s death?”
Mrs. Hannery said, “The parchment is obviously in reference to a murder which took place at Lockstock. I keep thinking about that night. . . .” Mrs. Hannery didn’t finish what she had been about to say. “I’m just upsetting you. The parchment probably means nothing. Aaron was probably getting ready to start another rumor among the neighborhood kids. He use to love to stir them up and give them an adventure. He use to love telling them all sorts of wild things, almost as much as he use to love making me angry.” Mrs. Hannery burst into tears. Crying loudly, she ran into the kitchen.
Mrs. Urbane said, “Don’t press her on this. She has taken Aaron’s death awfully hard.”
Mrs. Urbane then followed after Mrs. Hannery.
Sarah asked, “So what do the two of you think?”
I said, “Great-grandfather died of natural causes. Except for the parchment, there is no reason to suspect otherwise.”
Sarah said, “All and all, Mrs. Hannery is a level headed person. She is convinced the parchment being found next to great-grandfather’s body was not a coincidence. I keep thinking back to last Saturday. You weren’t here. Greatgrandfather was hiding something or someone. He was acting weird.”
Benjamin said, “I don’t know. What can we do? The police aren’t going to investigate.”
I said, “There is nothing we can do.”
Sarah said, “I’m not going to ask Mrs. Hannery to talk any more about the parchment now. But I for one am not going to ignore the fact that she obviously suspects something. When enough time has passed so that she won’t get so upset, I intend to talk with her about this.”
The next morning, we buried Great-grandfather Aaron Clayburg in the Lockstock Cemetery.
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