Murder Behind the Closed Door (A Lillian Crawford Murder Mystery Book 4)

  MURDER BEHIND THE CLOSED DOOR

  BLYTHE BAKER

  Copyright © 2022 by Blythe Baker

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  CONTENTS

  Description

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  About the Author

  When Lillian Crawford becomes a guest at a country house party, she hopes it will be her opportunity to get closer to her attractive host, Eugene Osbourn. But it isn’t the famous pianist who winds up capturing Lillian’s attention, as a fellow guest turns up dead.

  Suddenly Lillian and her twin brother Felix are tossed headfirst into another dangerous investigation. Can the Crawford siblings catch a murderer before time runs out?

  1

  Whenever I thought of the first week of July, I imagined flags flying proudly, parades making their way down main streets, and magnificent firework displays. Every year, it was a time of celebration, a time of remembrance, and a time of reflection. There were parties to attend, dinners to enjoy, and socializing to be done. The summer heat and brilliant sunshine made it all the better, all the more memorable.

  This year, however…was considerably different, devoid of such frivolities.

  “And don’t you try and bring any of that celebration into our home,” Gloria snapped at me. “We don’t need you flaunting your home country’s victory in our faces.”

  I arched a brow at her over the top of my easel. “A bit sensitive, aren’t we? What has it been now, over one hundred and thirty years? Even your grandparents wouldn’t remember anything, apart from what happened after it was all over.”

  Gloria grabbed a tube of paint from the tray beside her, and squirted a large glob of phthalo blue onto her palette.

  “We’re all friends now,” I reminded her.

  “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that,” Gloria said, striking the canvas in front of her with a rather violent swish of her paintbrush.

  “Lillian’s right, you know,” Marie said from beside her sister, squinting at her own canvas. “It did happen so very long ago. Besides, dear sister, we can have confidence that we have maintained our sense of propriety and accomplishment.”

  I narrowed my eyes at the pair of them. “As if to say that I have not?”

  “Americans speak without thinking,” Gloria said. “They have hardly any manners at all.”

  “Well, I suppose we all come from the same stock,” I said. “As such, one might say that we share the same characteristics…as we do share a grandparent, dear cousin.”

  “This is very good,” came a voice from behind me, belonging to our painting instructor. I had nearly forgotten she was there. “Use this emotion to fuel your creativity, to breathe life into your art.”

  I glanced over my shoulder at the spindly woman, whose spectacles were so thick her eyes reminded me of those of a dragonfly. Adding to her insect-like appearance, the lacey shawl she wore draped over her boney shoulders reminded me of a spider’s web, and her dress shimmered when she turned to gesture to my canvas.

  “I see…” she said, pointing to a sad looking rose. “The depth of color here, the delicate curve of the petals…it is somewhat reminiscent of Rembrandt’s style.”

  I made a noncommittal sound of agreement, and began to dab more white into the clouds that looked far too uniform to be believable.

  “The most rewarding part of painting is that you can always continue,” Mrs. Green said in her wispy voice. “Some might say an artist’s work is never truly complete.”

  “Am I to be working on this same painting for the rest of my life, then?” Gloria snapped. “This is the third lesson in a row that I have had to stare at this ridiculous landscape. When are we going to begin practicing people?”

  “Patience,” Mrs. Green said. “We must thoroughly explore all avenues of painting, if you wish to have a full appreciation of the medium.”

  Gloria rolled her eyes. “Then we shall be here forever.”

  “An accomplished young woman would – ” Mrs. Green began.

  “I already am an accomplished young woman!” Gloria snapped.

  “Gloria,” I said in my best imitation of a governess’s tone. It would win me no popularity with my second cousin, but her superior behavior made it irresistible to correct her.

  Her eyes shifted to mine, flashing.

  “Your behavior is astounding,” I said in mock dismay, adding a little of my mother into the role. “You speak of manners, yet it is your attitude alone that will prevent you from finding a good husband.”

  Well, perhaps that was going a little too far.

  Gloria’s mouth fell open, and Marie gasped, hiding a surprised grin behind her hands.

  “You are certainly one to talk, cousin,” Gloria hissed, her eyes as narrow as keyholes. “You could not marry a man, let alone keep him around.”

  I straightened in my chair, my annoyance not as piqued as it might have been at one time. “At least I have found someone who seems interested enough now,” I said. “And you would do well not to assume there was anything redeemable about that other, sorry excuse for a man I once agreed to marry.”

  “Yes, why don’t you tell me about this mysterious enchantment you seem to have cast over poor Mr. Osbourn?” Gloria asked. “I would be very interested to know what you have said to get his attention – ”

  “I must step in,” Mrs. Green said, physically stepping into the line of sight between Gloria and I. “This…is too much emotion. You have lost sight of your goal all together.”

  Gloria let out a noise of disgust, tossing her paintbrush into the cup of water beside her.

  “Now, let us begin again,” the instructor said. “This is a time for study, for learning. You may consider your romantic pursuits at a later time.”

  Gloria clicked her tongue, and disappeared behind her canvas once again. It was not more than a few minutes before I heard the quiet whispering of the sisters, keeping out of sight of Mrs. Green who seemed all too intent upon standing behind me to watch me work.

  So far, Cousin Richard’s idea of teaching me to be a more accomplished young lady had panned out about as well as I thought it might, which was to say not well at all. For some reason, he didn’t realize that his daughters and I simply did not get along.

  Perhaps it was because we were a great deal alike, but regardless of the fact that Gloria and I were the same age, she acted far more childish than I. She hated that Felix and I had come to stay with her family, and the fact that her father was so willing to welcome us in the first place. I might have been a bit bristly from time to time, but Gloria allowed it to become how she defined herself. At least I knew when to contain myself, and hold my tongue.

  Well…at least more than she did.

  The door to the parlor opened, and I looked up in time to see Felix stride into the room, dressed in his usual grey lounge suit with pleated trousers. The same age as me, with the same coal colored hair and blue eyes, it was not
hard to guess he was my twin, even for people who did not know us both.

  “Excuse me, young man, class is still ongoing,” Mrs. Green said. “For at least another hour. If you would please…” She gestured back toward the door.

  “Oh, my apologies,” Felix said. “I needed to speak with my sister for a moment. It won’t take long.”

  Mrs. Green eyed him, but was too kind to refuse. “Very well. All I ask is that you do not disturb her. She has been quite distracted today as it is…” She said nothing more, and instead wandered over to Gloria and Marie, who continued to gossip behind their canvases.

  Felix sank down into the chair beside me, and pulled it closer. “What are those two going on about?” he murmured.

  “Me, no doubt,” I said, mixing some green and umber together to begin the tree line in front of the mountain range that was nothing more than the illusion of peaks and snow.

  “What did you say to offend Gloria now?” he asked.

  “I said nothing,” I said, my nostrils flaring a bit. “She is the one who started the whole ridiculous argument.”

  “Well, color me shocked,” Felix said.

  I paused my once again unrealistically orderly painting of a grouping of treetops to turn and look at him. “What are you doing here?”

  “Rescuing you, of course,” he said, leaning back in his chair, folding his hands, and tilting his head to regard my painting. “Well done, sister. You should be pleased.”

  “Do not mock me,” I said, wiggling the end of the brush over some of the trees, and quickly wishing I hadn’t. “Richard will not be pleased. He will think we are not taking any of this seriously.”

  “Oh, I am taking my share quite seriously,” he said.

  “How was your class today?” I asked. “I assume you have only just gotten back?”

  “Yes, just a little while ago,” he said. “I am learning that philosophy really is quite fascinating when I am the one who chose to pursue it. Richard was very clever, giving me a choice.”

  “The illusion of choice, you mean,” I said, glancing over the top of my canvas toward Gloria, who was being instructed by Mrs. Green on how to properly blend colors.

  “Perhaps it was nothing more than an illusion, but at least it gave me the chance to decide between a few selections,” he said. “Maybe I never wished to pursue finance because it is not something I have any skill with. Money, numbers…it all might as well be reading German for as much as I understand. Philosophy, though…the way the mind works, and how people have pondered their existence over the centuries…it is fascinating.”

  “Well, I am pleased you are off having such a grand time, while I am stuck here listening to Gloria chirping like an annoying bird right outside the window far too early in the morning,” I said under my breath.

  “Why didn’t you choose another pursuit?” Felix asked. “You knew how she was going to be.”

  “It was Dragonfly Eyes over here, or horseback riding with Mr. O’Neill,” I said.

  Felix’s brow furrowed. “Richard thought that wise, given O’Neill’s bizarre flirtations with you?”

  “I think Richard’s intent was always to push me to this,” I said, gesturing around with the end of my paintbrush. “I think he is hoping I will rub off on Gloria and Marie, be a positive influence on them or some such nonsense. Doesn’t he realize that Gloria despises me?”

  “She feels threatened by you,” Felix said.

  “But why?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Who knows? But Richard is cleverer than we perhaps give him credit for. He knows his daughters, and he must have his reasons for wanting you to sit in with them.”

  I glared at the top of Gloria’s head. “I would be quite happy for him to fill me in on what those reasons might be,” I said.

  “I think we can trust him, you know,” Felix said in an even lower voice. “Both of us.”

  “I know that,” I whispered, perhaps with a bit more force than I should have.

  I wrestled my frustration back into the shadows, reminding myself for the hundredth time that it was better to remain civil now. Of course I was enjoying the fact that he and I were speaking to each other once again, but every time I looked him in the eye lately, all I could see was Daniel.

  In many ways, our younger brother had not resembled Felix and me. He was sandy-haired, and his eyes were more like our father’s, which were blue also, but hued with greens and golds. Daniel had always reminded me of mischief and secrets. He preferred to play alone, despite only being a few years younger than Felix and me. The differences mattered little, though, when it was as if I could see Daniel’s wide, frightened eyes staring into Felix’s steely blues as he –

  I cut the thought off.

  Felix refused to talk about Daniel’s death any further, despite the fact that I had asked him to more than once in the past few weeks. He asked me to put it behind me, not to dwell on it. It was his burden to bear, and he would not ask me to do it for him.

  I also did not want to push him away again, as it had gone so poorly when I had before. I could not extricate him from my life, and it wasn’t until after I had tried that I knew that deep down, I really didn’t want to. We were twins, Felix and I. He was too much a part of me, and ostracizing him would be as if I had cut off my own arms.

  Regardless of his familiarity, however…he felt more like a stranger to me than ever before. This new truth, what he had recently told me about Daniel…it made the whole of our relationship seem so shallow. It was as if his words were like a hammer striking crystal in a precise place, sending hairline fractures all through our relationship.

  “All right, now, young man, run along,” Mrs. Green said, reappearing beside my canvas. “I assume you have said all you need to say to your sister?”

  “Yes, of course,” Felix said with a brief glance over at me before getting to his feet. “My apologies.”

  “It’s perfectly all right,” Mrs. Green said. “I only want to make sure that she does not fall behind the other girls – although it seems she has the ability to paint and speak at the same time.”

  I smiled up at her, though felt it did not quite reach my eyes.

  Felix was still making his way toward the door when Hughes, the family butler, stepped inside. “Ah, Mr. Crawford, I was hoping to find you and your sister here.”

  “What is it, Hughes?” I asked. “Is something the matter?”

  “Not at all,” he said. “A letter has arrived, addressed to you both.”

  “Very well,” I said, gesturing to Felix. “Go on, then. I assume it is from Mother and Father.”

  Hughes handed the envelope to Felix, who ripped it open. His eyes passed over the letter quickly before he looked up at me. “It might be addressed to us both, but it is mainly written to you,” he said, walking it back over to me.

  I took it, and quickly skimmed the body of the letter to find the name at the bottom.

  “Eugene Osbourn,” I said, my eyebrows rising. “Not who I had expected.”

  “What does it say?” Gloria demanded.

  I glared at her. “As if it is any of your business – ”

  “Lil,” Felix said, stopping me.

  I glowered, but looked back at the letter.

  Dear Lillian, and of course Felix,

  I hope this letter finds you well. I know that it has been some time since we all were able to enjoy one another’s company. I have talked with my uncle, and he and I would like to extend an invitation to you both, and also to your cousin Richard and his children, for you all to come and spend a fortnight at our estate. My uncle especially would like you to come and use his home as a place of relaxation, after everything your family has endured. We would be happy to negotiate dates and times to suit your needs, but we do hope you will consider our offer, as we would be delighted to have you.

  I would be quite pleased to have the chance to introduce Felix to my cousin Bram, who is an avid card player. And, selfishly, I would enjoy dancing with you again, L
illian.

  Send me a note of response or telephone the below number at your earliest convenience. I look forward to it greatly.

  Mr. Eugene Osbourn

  Without waiting, I got to my feet and left the room. Gloria’s annoyed caterwauling followed me out, but I ignored her as Felix fell into step beside me.

  “What is he asking for?” Felix asked.

  “For all of us to visit,” I said.

  When I found Cousin Richard in his study, I handed him the letter without much explanation. He took it and read through it before glancing up at me. “They are inviting us all?” he asked.

  “That’s how it seems,” I said, folding my arms.

  “And what would you like to do?” Richard asked.

  “I thought this would be your decision,” I said.

  He shook his head. “I imagine you and Felix would be invited even if I were to decline.”

  “Is that your decision then?” I asked. “You would refuse his offer?”

  “No, quite the contrary,” Richard said with a bit of a chuckle. “It’s a very kind offer. I think it would be foolish for me to refuse. Besides, the girls could do with a change of pace, and William will be happy to have a holiday.”

  “I imagine you would do well with some time to relax, as well,” I said.

  Richard smiled. “I suppose I would,” he said. “Though I think that out of the lot of us, you are the one who needs the holiday most.”

  “Me?” I asked. “Why?”

  “All the investigations that you’ve done,” Richard said with a laugh. “I thought that would be obvious. Besides, I would think you would be looking forward to spending this time with Mr. Osbourn.”

  My face colored. “Everyone seems quite keen to pair the two of us together,” I said, and then remembered I had just done so myself a few minutes ago. But that was different. That was to prove a point to Gloria.