Family Drama

Chapter 2

Down on the moor, out and away from the sights and sounds of London, in a lovely old abbey surrounded by ancient oaks and elms, lived old Cecil McRavey, former lieutenant of the royal navy. McRavey was well known, loved by his few particular friends, and respected by the general public. Some thought he was perhaps a bit too reclusive for his own good, and his private life was just that, very private. He no longer had a place in the city, and instead spent all his time out in the countryside, rarely attending anything he was ever invited to. He had a niece who came to stay with him during the summer when she was not at her elite lady's school, and he always made more of an effort to be social when she was there. Every year, during her visit, he would throw two large parties and would invite as many people as he could remember the names of, and not only his own acquaintances, but anyone his niece wanted to come too.

In the late spring there was the annual Grounds Party, held when the estate was at its peak of loveliness and when most of the festivities were arranged to be held outdoors. There were games and walks, riding and boating, and long tables of fine food.

The second party was held at the end of the season, a birthday and farewell ball for his niece. It was this ball they were planning for now. This year would be particularly special as Claire was turning eighteen and was going into her last year at the elite lady's school. This year she would have to consider husbands and such, since she hoped to be married soon after leaving finishing school and it was unlikely she would be able to return next summer. It had to be the best and biggest of all the parties ever hosted at Heathermoore Abbey.

But tonight, all was still and quiet, soaking in the cold early September downpour. McRavey stood watching raindrops race down the long french window, his hands stuffed idly in his small waistcoat pockets. Two gentlemen were reclining at ease behind him, chattering in that inconsequential way people of their standing and culture often do after a large and fine meal. Both seemed to be men of some social substance, discussing politics and economics with grace and fluency. The one seemed to be near his host's age while the other perhaps a score younger. Forty perhaps, but worn down externally by some pressure that must be his burden daily. This younger man had hair flecked with silver and his shoulders were perpetually slumped forward. The other was quite jolly and sipped on his wine with apparent enjoyment. His skin was wrinkled and dark, like that of a seaman, by which one can gather he is perhaps some old comrade from McRavey's days in the navy.

"And what do you say McRavey?" the elder man asked, his voice deep and raspy, "This whole Beckett murder is a strange business indeed. Randal thinks it was personal while I prefer to think the criminal is trying to make a statement."

Mr. Randall acknowledged the comment with a nod as he crossed his feet and settled back further into the depths of his chair.

Without turning from the window, McRavey calmly replied, "I confess that I know little of the particulars. Beckett was a bit of a spicy politician, yes? Often let things out that were better left unsaid?"

Mr. Kenndrick nodded, "Yes. He had many enemies to be sure, but I don't remember him having done or said anything that deserved anything as dramatic as murder. Especially such a nasty one. They say he was found strangled, with a strange mark or symbol on his throat. Seems a bit extreme, unless of course you believe it was bigger than just a personal offense."

Randall shrugged, "It's not that unusual. Strangling is a pretty quiet way to murder someone, important if you intend to kill in the city."

"Yes, but the mark? Doesn't that suggest something beyond just a crime of passion?" Kenndrick looked to McRavey for support and got none.

"I think not. He made a lot of people angry with his sweeping statements. He was a bloated, self-serving leech."

McRavey turned and gave Randall a disgusted glance, "Rather specific."