The Quinton Case: A Markham Sisters Cozy Mystery Novella

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The Quinton Case: A Markham Sisters Cozy Mystery Novella Page 3

by Xarissa, Diana


  “It’s beautiful, obviously. I’ve been thinking about doing something similar, really, but banks don’t seem to want to loan me money now that I’m so close to retirement age.”

  “We were fortunate enough to have a cottage to sell. That helped us buy Doveby House. We also inherited some money when our parents passed away, and a small amount when Great-Aunt Mildred passed.”

  Roland smiled. “How fortunate for you both,” he said, sounding amused.

  “Tell us about yourself,” Janet suggested. “Do you have any idea why your parents didn’t stay in touch with the rest of the family?”

  “My mother had a bit of a falling-out with her father before I was even born. She and my father ended up moving to London and cutting their ties with both of their families, really. Mum passed away when I was only sixteen and my father died not long after her. I had one sibling, an older brother, but he was killed in a car accident on the M1 a few days after his twenty-first birthday. That left me on my own, which I thought was absolutely fine at the time.” He stopped and then chuckled. “I never realised what I was missing, of course, until much later.”

  “You never married?”

  “Sadly, I never met the right woman,” Roland sighed. “Perhaps it was London that was the problem. All of the women I met wanted careers, rather than to settle down and start families. I wanted a traditional marriage, where the wife stays home and looks after the children, and I was prepared to work hard to make that happen. Unfortunately, I never found a woman who shared my dreams.”

  Janet bit into her sandwich to keep herself from replying. The man was entitled to have what she thought of as an old-fashioned view of marriage, but there was no way she was going to agree with him.

  “How did you find us, then?” Joan asked.

  “I was moving house, actually, and I came across several boxes of papers that had been my mother’s. I’d moved them three different times when I’d gone from flat to flat, and I decided that enough was enough. As I’d never even looked at them in all the years since her death, I decided to simply get rid of the lot.”

  “Oh, dear,” Janet blurted out. She flushed when Roland looked at her. “I’m sorry. They were your papers to deal with as you saw fit, but I would have at least gone through them quickly.”

  “I had them all in a pile, ready to take to the rubbish tip, when one of my coworkers started talking about researching his family history. I may have mentioned that I work in IT. There are an increasing number of resources available on computer these days for genealogical research. After my friend told me everything that he’d found, I thought it might be interesting to give it a try.”

  “And you found us,” Janet said.

  “I found out a great deal about both my father’s and my mother’s families. I found several very distant cousins on my father’s side, so distant that I’m not even sure I can call them cousins. I’ve sent a letter to one of them, anyway, suggesting that we might meet one day. Of course, finding you two on my mother’s side was far more exciting. I want you to tell me all about the family, everything that you can remember.”

  Joan and Janet exchanged glances. “I’m not sure that we’ll be able to tell you much,” Janet said slowly. “Our parents weren’t all that interested in keeping in touch with their families either.”

  “You must remember Great-Aunt Mildred,” Roland insisted. “She left you her fortune, after all.”

  Janet frowned. She was fairly certain that neither she nor Joan had used the word “fortune” in conjunction with Great-Aunt Mildred. While she’d left them a considerable sum, it wasn’t exactly a fortune, whatever Roland thought.

  “I’m sure that she remembered us from when we were small children,” Joan said. “We have pictures of ourselves with Mildred from when weren’t much more than toddlers.”

  “When did she write her will?” Roland asked.

  Joan frowned. “You’d have to ask our solicitor about that,” she replied.

  Roland opened his mouth and then shut it again. After a moment, he nodded. “I’d love to see the pictures,” he said.

  “We can look at old family photos later,” Joan replied. “While the weather is relatively good, let’s get out and see Doveby Dale.”

  Roland glanced out the window and then nodded. “I’m ready when you are. I’m so excited about this.”

  Janet popped up the stairs to comb her hair and add a fresh coat of lipstick to her lips. “I don’t know,” she told Aggie. “I just don’t like him.”

  “Meerooww,” Aggie replied.

  “You don’t like him, either?” Janet asked. “I think he’s here because he wants something.”

  “Meeoowww,” Aggie agreed.

  “I wonder if he might have some claim to Great-Aunt Mildred’s estate,” Janet mused. “Can he argue that he should have been entitled to a share? What do you think?”

  Aggie squeezed her eyes shut and put her head down on her paws. Janet laughed.

  “I know, I know. Legal questions give me a headache, too.” She grabbed her handbag and rejoined Joan and Roland in the sitting room.

  “Where to first?” she asked a few minutes later from behind the steering wheel of Joan’s very sensible car.

  It had been their shared car for years, but when it had needed some repair work doing to it, the garage had lent the sisters the little red coupe that was now Janet’s car. Janet had fallen in love with the cute red automobile, and when she’d mentioned how much she liked it to Edward, he’d purchased it for her. Usually, Joan drove the sensible car and Janet drove her own car, but today it made more sense to take Joan’s car, even though Joan didn’t want to drive.

  “Show me everything Doveby Dale has to offer,” Roland told her.

  Janet drove slowly up the incline to the main road. “That café does excellent food,” she told Roland, pointing to the building as they rolled past it. She drove down to the parade of shops and pulled into the car park. “We have a newsagent’s, a chemist’s, and an antique shop,” she said, gesturing. “There’s also a small coffee shop and the local police station,” she added, pointing out each building in turn.

  “I didn’t realise a village this small would have its own police station,” Roland said.

  “Constable Robert Parsons does an excellent job of policing both Doveby Dale and the next village along the road, Little Burton,” Joan told him. “He divides his time between the two villages.”

  “How nice,” Roland replied, sounding bored.

  “Did you want to visit any of the shops?” Janet asked.

  “Not really. I don’t enjoy shopping. For me, it’s just another chore that needs doing occasionally.”

  He’s definitely related to Joan, Janet thought as she restarted the car’s engine. She drove onwards to Little Burton and parked in a car park there.

  “There aren’t any shops here at the moment,” she explained. “There was an antique shop until recently, but it closed. The pub does very good food, though.”

  Roland looked at the pub at the end of the car park and nodded. “I may have to come back here for a visit.”

  It was too late in the day to try to tour any of the area’s stately homes, so Janet simply drove past a few of them, pointing them out and suggesting that they might visit another day. “Some of them are closed for the holidays, of course,” she added. “We’ll have to make careful plans if you want to visit any of them.”

  “History doesn’t really interest me,” Roland replied. “Obviously, I’m fascinated by my own family history now that I’ve discovered it, but unless I’m distantly related to one of the owners of one of the stately homes, I’ve no real interest in visiting any of them.”

  Janet glanced at Joan, who was sitting silently in the back of the car. They’d planned on spending the next few days taking Roland to tour several of the nicer homes. What would they do with their visitor now?

  It felt to Janet as if several days had passed before she finally drove back into Doveby Dale.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t even five o’clock yet, which meant she and Joan still had many hours to get through until they could head to bed and forget about Roland for a few hours.

  “What about dinner?” he asked as Janet parked in the car park for Doveby House.

  “I thought I’d make a roast chicken,” Joan replied.

  “Oh,” Roland said, sounding disappointed.

  “Did you want to go out somewhere?” Janet asked.

  “I thought it might be nice to go and celebrate together, that’s all,” he said. “Didn’t you say something about a nice French restaurant in the village?”

  “Yes, there is a nice French restaurant in the village, but it may only be doing Christmas parties this close to the holiday,” Janet told him. “Anyway, it’s awfully expensive.”

  Roland nodded. “Never mind. I’m sure Joan will make a lovely meal for us all.”

  “She’s an excellent cook,” Janet told him

  “I’m sure,” Roland replied.

  Janet frowned at his condescending tone. It was going to be a very long week if Roland was going to behave in this way the entire time he was visiting.

  As they walked back into the house, a loud buzzing noise made Janet and Joan both jump.

  “It’s just my mobile,” Roland said with a laugh. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and glanced at it. “I do need to take this, though,” he said before he raced up the stairs and disappeared from view.

  Chapter 4

  “I don’t like him,” Janet hissed to Joan as soon as they were in the kitchen.

  “I don’t like him, either, but he’s here now. We’ll just have to make the best of it.”

  “Do we have to have dinner with him?”

  “For tonight, yes. Maybe we can take turns making other plans for the rest of his stay.”

  Janet shook her head. “Neither one of us should have to eat with him. Can’t we just tell him that he’s going to have to entertain himself?”

  “Let’s see how things go for the rest of today. Maybe he’ll decide he wants to do some sightseeing on his own tomorrow.”

  “I’m not sure why he came. He isn’t interested in shopping. He doesn’t like stately homes. It doesn’t help that it’s Christmas week. Places will be shut besides.”

  Janet peeled carrots and potatoes and put crosses into the bottoms of Brussels sprouts while Joan prepared the chicken for the oven and made stuffing. Ninety minutes later the kitchen smelled wonderful and Janet was starving.

  “Dinner will be ready in ten minutes,” Joan told her as she stirred the gravy. “Perhaps you could go and inform Roland?”

  “Do I have to?”

  Joan chuckled. “Yes, you do. I won’t have dinner ruined because he’s not down.”

  Janet got to her feet and stomped out of the room. The first floor was quiet as she stood outside the Alberta Room, where Roland was staying. There were no witnesses, so Janet may have pressed her ear to the door for a moment before she knocked. If she did do such a thing, she was disappointed, as she could hear nothing from inside the room. After a moment, she knocked sharply.

  “Ah, Janet, hello,” Roland said perkily. “I’m being terribly rude, tucking myself away up here, but I needed to ring some people, you see. I hope you and Joan aren’t angry with me.”

  “Not at all, but Joan has dinner nearly ready.”

  Roland frowned. “Already?” He sighed. “I forget that outside of London people tend to keep earlier hours. No one in London would eat dinner at six o’clock. It simply isn’t done.”

  “Well, here we tend to have lunch around midday and dinner around six,” Janet told him. “You’re welcome to make other arrangements while you’re here, of course.”

  Roland shook his head. “I don’t want to do anything that might inconvenience my dear cousins. I’ll be down in two minutes.”

  Janet nodded and then went back down the stairs. “He’ll be down in two minutes, even though it really is far too early for dinner for someone who is accustomed to London hours,” Janet told Joan.

  “Did you suggest that he was welcome to make his own arrangements for dinner?” Joan asked.

  “I did. As I said, he’ll be down in two minutes.”

  Ten minutes later Joan began serving. She was fussing over Roland’s plate, wondering what to do with it, when he finally appeared a further ten minutes after that.

  “I’m sorry,” he said in a careless tone. “My solicitor rang and it was quite important, but we’ll talk about that after dinner.”

  Janet opened her mouth to ask questions, but was silenced by the look Joan sent her.

  “Would you prefer to eat here or in the dining room?” Joan asked Roland.

  “Let’s eat in the dining room,” he suggested. “I’m sure that will be nicer than eating while staring at the refrigerator.”

  Janet swallowed a dozen replies as she followed Joan and their cousin into the large dining room. They rarely used it, aside from when they had disagreeable guests that they preferred not to feed in the kitchen. Roland qualified on that count, anyway.

  “Tell me about teaching, then,” Roland suggested after they’d all taken seats. “I’m sure you both must have funny stories from all of your years in the classroom.”

  Janet told him a few short anecdotes from her teaching days. “Surely you have similar funny stories from your job,” she said after Roland’s faint chuckle when she’d finished a story. “Tell us about what you do.”

  Roland’s eyes lit up. For the next half hour he told one long and rambling story after another, full of acronyms that Janet didn’t understand and computer terms that were completely foreign to her. After a while, she stopped listening and focussed on enjoying her dinner.

  “I made sticky toffee pudding for pudding,” Joan said as she began to clear the table.

  “Just a very small piece for me,” Roland replied. “I’m always very careful about sweets.”

  Janet followed Joan into the kitchen, carrying used plates and utensils. Roland didn’t move.

  “Did you understand anything he said?” she whispered to Joan.

  “Not really, but I don’t think he cared. He just likes listening to the sound of his own voice.”

  Janet nodded. “I was hoping you were going to make apple crumble tonight, but now I’m glad you didn’t. I’d hate for him to get any of my favourite pudding.”

  “As he doesn’t really care for sweets, maybe I won’t bother making anything for the next few nights. We have mince pies, anyway.”

  Janet nodded. She loved puddings, but she was prepared to go without for a few days if it meant not giving any to Roland, whom she was liking less and less with every passing minute.

  They ate their puddings, and Janet had to bite her tongue to keep from commenting when Roland requested a second helping. When those dishes had been cleared and loaded into the dishwasher, she and Joan rejoined Roland in the dining room.

  “Is there a nice pub in Doveby Dale?” he asked.

  “There’s a small pub, but the landlord doesn’t really keep regular hours,” Janet told him. “The pub in Little Burton is better.”

  “But I’d have to drive there,” Roland sighed. “Unless one of you wants to drive?”

  Janet shook her head. “I’m afraid neither of us goes to the pub very often. We usually stay home and watch telly in the evening.”

  “I was afraid of that,” Roland sighed. His phone buzzed again, causing him to jump to his feet. “I must take this,” he announced before he left the room.

  “Let’s move to the television lounge while he’s on the phone,” Janet suggested, getting up from her chair. “Maybe he’ll just come in and sit quietly if we’re watching telly when he’s done.”

  “Maybe he won’t even come down at all,” Joan said, sounding hopeful.

  The sisters were still walking through the sitting room when Roland bounced back down the stairs. “My goodness, but it’s been such an interesting day,” he told them. “That wa
s my solicitor again.”

  “I hope everything is okay,” Janet said.

  “It’s all fine,” Roland replied. “I’ve just been finding out some interesting things, that’s all.”

  Janet waited to see if he was going to continue, but he simply stopped and smiled at her and Joan. “Good for you,” Janet finally said. “We’re going to watch some telly.”

  “I think we should talk first,” Roland said. “I never finished telling you about what happened when I started researching our family history.”

  Janet frowned. The last thing she wanted to do was hear any more of Roland’s stories.

  “After I found out that I had living family members, I decided that I really should go through the boxes that my mother had left,” Roland told them. “They were full of letters, mostly, between my mother and Mildred. It seems that Mildred was the only person that my mother stayed in touch with after her disagreement with my father.”

  Janet looked at Joan. She had a bad feeling that Roland was about to cause some sort of trouble. “I’m surprised you never met Mildred, then,” she said.

  Roland shrugged. “From what I could gather from the letters, my father didn’t know that my mother was still in touch with anyone from the family. Apparently he wouldn’t have approved, so my mother kept her relationship with Mildred a secret from him.”

  “That’s a shame,” Joan said.

  “Anyway, there were quite a few documents that looked important in the boxes. Stock certificates, property deeds, wills, that sort of thing. I gave them all to my solicitor to go over, just in case any of them were actually important.”

  “And were they?” Janet demanded, tired of his dragging everything out.

  He smiled at her. “One of the items was Mildred’s will. My solicitor has now discovered that it was written and signed after the will that was submitted for probate when Mildred died.”

  Janet and Joan exchanged glances. “I’m not sure I understand,” Janet said after an awkward silence.

 

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