The Blue Mountains Secret

By Pen Avram

A series of deaths and accidents take Hendrych and Kroupa from the luxury of a Blue Mountains resort to the Western Suburbs of Sydney. Are these multiple murders, and could they be related? Only time will tell as our intrepid duo once again face danger while they try to find out whodunnit. However, with the court case fast approaching, will they have enough time uncover the truth?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pen Avram
• Release date: Jun 20, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476089805

Pen Avram

This one-time piano mechanic turned Master of Applied Science (Critical Enquiry/Social Ecology) fled to the West from the former Soviet bloc, finally finding his home in Australia. Growing up in a family touched by the horrors of the holocaust and communism, Pen Avram has spent his life studying what drives people of different faiths around the world to act the way they do. His insights now inform the mysteries investigated by the intrepid team of Kroupa and Hendrych. And Sara is a real dog, blood an bones.

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THE BLUE MOUNTAINS SECRETS

A book by Pen Avram

SMASHWORDS EDITION

*****

PUBLISHED BY:

Pen Avram on Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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Copyright © 2012 Text - Pen Avram

Copyright © 2012 ArtWork Design - Pen Avram

The author and the artwork designer assert the moral rights to

be identified as the author and designer of this work,

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CHAPTER 1: The Connoisseurs

We have a reservation under the name of Lady Vivienne and Sir Ramsey Forrester-Crawford. A well-dressed couple stood at the reception in the lobby of the luxurious Imperial Resort and Spa.

The concierge looked at the two guests with an approving smile.

Of course. And with well-practised hesitation, I apologise for any inconvenience, but would you be so kind as to show me some form of identification? A passport perhaps, or a driver’s licence? While awaiting their response he consulted the reservations in the system.

Lady Vivienne Forrester-Crawford presented her driver’s licence and her companion, who was a passionate hunter, showed his shooter’s licence with pride.

Thank you, Ma’am, Sir Ramsey. You are in Suite 202, with views to the garden as well as the mountains. The valet will bring your luggage to your room. I trust that you will have a pleasant stay, concluded the concierge signalling to the valet. The valet approached noiselessly, placed their suitcases, suit-bags and hatbox onto the luggage trolley and called the elevator.

After a minute or two, the new arrivals were shown to their luxurious suite, their luggage placed carefully next to the wardrobe on the suitcase rack. After receiving a handsome tip, the valet walked slowly and noiselessly through the door. How alike they are, he thought. Perhaps they had been attracted to each other because of their similarity. He had been a keen observer of people for many years. He noticed that both guests were wearing expensive clothes; the gentleman a Harris-tweed jacket and light woollen trousers, Lady Vivienne a linen travel suit. They were both about the same age, although perhaps Lady Forrester-Crawford was three to four years younger. There was a cunning similarity in their features; the same classic cut of their noses, the perfect chin, and even their wavy hair was similar. Their eyes twinkled with the same sparkle, although Lady Forrester-Crawford was coquettish whereas he appeared more solemn. They differed a lot in their physique. Lady Vivienne was a small, slender woman in her early thirties, and he was a tall, sporty and muscular man.

It was Vivienne who spoke first. Are you sure it’s okay, so soon?

Of course it is. Don’t think about it. Not now. Death is a part of life, it comes unexpectedly and uninvited, and we must enjoy the life we have before it ends, he replied. He certainly looked like someone who enjoyed his life.

They were looking around the room with appreciation.

Very nice, what do you think? I like it, don’t you? Vivienne asked.

It was a very large suite with a large armchair and a sofa and an adjoining room furnished like an office. The main room had large windows, a coffee table, two Beethoven armchairs in a brocade finish, and the bath was equipped with a large shell-shaped spa. They looked at each other. The valet, who was slowly disappearing through the door while trying to get a glimpse of the man so generous with his money, observed how he took Vivienne’s hand between his and gently stroked it.

You are wonderful, you really are, Vivienne said enthusiastically as if she’d had no concerns a few seconds earlier, and kissed him on the cheek, letting him hold her hand. Then she gently pushed him away, and walked to the large four-poster bed and gave it a feel.

Soft, she said, As I’d hoped it would be. Just perfect. And, without pausing, she continued, I’m hungry, aren’t you? I am sure daddy would have liked to see me happy.

They both were in need of refreshment. Take your bath first, I will unpack in the meantime, he said. I shan’t be long then. We’ll have something small here and then decide on the next move, alright?

Vivienne took off her travelling suit and, in only her underwear, took her hotel robe and went to the bathroom. He never let his eyes off her. He admired her figure now as much as in the years that had passed. When she closed the door, he opened his suitcase and hung up his two suits and his shirts. He placed his shoes on the shoe-rack and the