The Murder Next Door: Felix Green Mysteries

By Andrew Stanek

Kleptomaniac detective Felix Green never got to know his next door neighbor, Fred Winters, and after Winters is found strangled in his office, Felix will never get the chance. Winter's past holds surprising secrets for Felix and his trusted associate, Sam Alders, as they investigate The Murder Next Door.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Andrew Stanek
• Release date: Apr 23, 2015
• ISBN: 9781513000251

Book preview

Chapter 1

‘My dear friends, thank you so much for coming. I’ve asked you here...’ No, no, that’s not right.

Marshall Reed frowned to himself, bending low over his paper, which was already criss-crossed with inscrutable scribbles and incorrect corrections. He picked up the pen and struck out the last sentence entirely.

My dear friends, he began again. It’s such a pleasure to see you all again, but I haven’t asked you here for recreation...

But like a dog coming out of a pool, he shook his head ferociously as he spoke, his mane of brown-gray hair wagging every which way as he did so.

Philip knocked tentatively at the open door to the study. Marshall looked up, surprised, saw Philip, and smiled.

Philip, my boy, come in. I was just trying to hone some of the finer points of this speech of mine.

They aren’t finer points dad. You’ve been on the first sentence for an hour. Philip shook his head as he guided his wheelchair into the room, moving the apparatus with powerful strokes from his hands. I’ve just been talking to the gardener and I’ve explained that you want everything perfect for tonight.

Good, good, Marshall said off-handedly, crossing out the last sentence he’d written on the paper. I have every reason to think that Titus, when he gets here, will immediately start looking at the huge rosebush and if there’s one petal out of place I’ll never hear the end of it. Not that I’d know an aubergine from an orange, but there you have it.

Why do you call him Titus anyway, dad? Philip asked, wheeling himself up to peer out the window at the front yard, where the lone gardener was hard at work on the rose bush.

Titus Andronicus, my boy. Just a little nickname from the olden days, nothing mysterious or sinister. He’s always had a fascination with the garden that I’ve never quite understood, but that’s life for you. Other people will forever be mysteries to you in certain ways.

The gardener wants to know why you’re so eager to have everything perfect today, Philip prompted, his eyes suddenly bright.

Marshall made a dismissive noise. Why should he need to know? He’s the gardener.

But I couldn’t tell him, because I didn’t know either, Philip continued, wheeling himself up next to his father. What is this all about, Dad? You’ve been locked up in your study all day just looking at that first sentence. It’s not like you. Why is tonight so important?

Philip flinched as his father wagged his finger at him.

Hahaha, wouldn’t you like to know, my boy, but I’m afraid that you’ll have to wait like everyone else. You’ll know soon enough.

You’re being very secretive about all this.

With a shake of his head, Marshall returned to his paper covered in scratchings and scribblings.

Secrets are my prerogative, Philip. As I said, some parts of other people will forever be a mystery to you. You’re lucky - this secret will only last until dinner tonight. Now, off with you. I’ve got to finish this toast.

Despite his continued curiosity, Philip obediently wheeled himself out of his father’s study. As the door closed, he heard his father’s voice saying, My dearest friends, family, and colleagues...

Philip couldn’t help sighing deeply as he proceeded back into the hallway. He’d barely gotten halfway down the corridor when a tall young woman with brown hair quite a lot like his came whizzing past, nearly colliding with him.

Oh! she squeaked, and quickly put out one hand to steady Philip. I’m so sorry, Phil. I didn’t see you there. I’m just in such a hurry to - to do something.

What are you up to, Stacy? You’re going out to see him, aren’t you? Philip asked shrewdly, his eyes fixating on his sister, who flushed slightly.

You won’t tell dad, will you? she asked. He’d kill me if he knew.

No, I won’t tell dad, but honestly, Stacy you’re going to have to tell him yourself eventually. If you’re serious, anyway.

I don’t think that I’m serious at all, Stacy said, her blush deepening to a reddish violet. I’ve just got a bit of a crush. Besides, oh god, Philip, I couldn’t tell dad, not to save my life I couldn’t. What would he say if he knew that I might be falling in love with the gardener?

Philip crossed his arms and sighed. I don’t think he’d be very pleased about it, I’ll be honest. He’d say that you’ve been watching too many bad romance shows... but given that he’s kept you locked up in this house all your life I don’t know what he’s really been expecting.

Oh, he hasn’t kept me locked up, Stacy said absently. He just wanted to keep us together was all, particularly after mom died...

I’m sure that was it, Philip said with his arms still crossed. So how are things going with this gardener of yours?

His name is John, Stacy said, reddening again. Honestly, you’re starting to sound like Dad. And I don’t know that they’re going at all. I’ve just been talking to him whenever I get the chance. Do you think he knows I like him? she asked, twirling her hair.

He’s probably gotten a pretty good idea, given how frequently you’ve been sneaking out to see him, Philip answered. Do you really mean that you haven’t told him anything?

His sister shook her head. I mean, what if he didn’t like me? I’d just die, and I’d feel so silly, and if he told Dad, I don’t know what he’d do.

Philip sighed and scratched his head. Well, I dunno, Stace. Do whatever you think is best, but if I were you I wouldn’t go out there just now. Dad’s in his study and he can see the grounds pretty well from where he is. All he’d have to do would be to look up and see you two together.

Stacy made a little squeak and put her hands to her mouth.

That would be terrible. I’d better not go, then. But why is dad in his study?

I don’t know. He’s preparing some kind of speech or toast or something for this dinner he’s holding tonight, but he’s being very tight-lipped about the whole thing. I have no idea why he’s doing it and he won’t even give me a hint about it. The only thing I know is that Titus is going to be here, since Dad wanted me to harass your friend John into double-pruning the giant rose bush. Come to think of it, we’ve been seeing a lot of Titus lately, and he isn’t married. Maybe Dad is hoping that you’ll fall for him. He gave Stacy a sly smile.

For him? Stacy repeated blankly. He’s about thirty years older than me.

I was only joking Stacy. Titus might be just about unlovable. Frankly, I have no idea what’s going through Dad’s mind, but I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.

Stacy could only nod in agreement. I hope so. I don’t know what he’s got planned for tonight but he’s bought me a new dress for the occasion, so whatever it is must be very important.

A new dress? The President must be coming to visit, Philip quipped.

Don’t tease me, Philip, Stacy shot back. Well, I don’t know what to do if I can’t go out. Maybe if I just took a walk around the garden and John and I happened to bump into each other... she started back down the hallway. Philip looked after her and shook his head, then continued wheeling himself towards the dining room. However, he was again interrupted before he could reach the end, as a blonde woman staggered into the hallway from one of the side doors. She bumped into Philip’s wheelchair and nearly toppled over, stumbling and flailing her arms wildly. Automatically, Philip grabbed her forearm to steady her. The woman slowly regained her balance, though she continued to readjust her position awkwardly, rocking precariously on the tips of her high-heeled shoes.

Hello, Georgia, Philip said by way of greeting, a note of severity creeping into his voice. Doing well today?

The question was rhetorical. Now that she was standing still, Philip could see that Georgia was in a state of advanced disarray. She was tall and blonde but her hair was blatantly undone, sticking up and poking out at awkward angles, and a thick layer of poorly applied makeup was obscuring her otherwise attractive features. Though she was wearing a stylish red dress, it was ruffled, wrinkled, and stained in many places, and she had a distinctive smell of booze about her.

Oh, hello Philip, she said. Well, yes, I’ve been doing fine. I just didn’t see you there and I nearly had a bit of a fall. Tell me, is your father around anywhere? I wanted to have a word with him.

He’s here, but he’s busy, Philip said suspiciously. What did you want to talk to him about?

Nothing you need to concern yourself with, Philip, she said haughtily. I just wanted to have a word with him. I’m allowed to do that, aren’t I? Speak with my own husband?

As I said, he’s very busy, Georgia. He’s trying to write a toast for tonight. You wouldn’t happen to know what tonight is about, would you? Dad’s been working very hard on the toast and I can’t figure out why.

No, no, I’m afraid I have no idea, his step-mother said with a little hiccup. I’m just afraid I - she stumbled again, and Philip caught her for the second time.

Have you been drinking, Georgia?

Drinking? No, don’t be ridiculous, I’m totally sober. I don’t drink anymore. Even as she said it, Philip noticed her words were slightly slurred.

How much did you have? he asked crossly.

Oh, I didn’t - I mean I might have just a little - by accident, you understand - I thought it was the sherry - I mean, I thought the sherry was the - the - soda water.

You might want to get your story a little straighter than that before you talk to Dad, Philip muttered, grabbing her forearm. In fact, I think you probably ought to have a little rest before dinner tonight. I have no idea what’s going on but it’s clearly important to Dad, so you might want to sober up first.

Sober up? Ridiculous. She giggled hysterically. I’m not drunk. I’m just a little out of sorts, is all, I needed one or two as a pick-me-up, I mean, it was an accident. I thought the sherry was the soda...

Yes, yes, Philip said patiently. Let’s find you somewhere to lie down.

It was not easy, steering a protesting Georgia from a wheel-chair, but Philip had past experience to guide him. He ushered her down the hall and into the sitting room, where he gently directed her onto the couch. Though she complained every step of the way, the moment Georgia’s head hit the sofa, her eyes closed and she fell backwards, emitting a loud snore. Philip took one look at her and shook his head.

Why dad ever married you, I’ll never know, he muttered, then turned