Th3 Door

By Jim Carr

Murder Behind a Locked Door
It was a puzzle right from the start for Winton Hazlett, Inspector
at Gladstonbury.
A newly-minted cabinet minister is found dead in his house, which
he had bought only days earlier.
The manor house dated back to Elizabethan times and had a
ghost that haunted its bedrooms. Hazlett didn't believe in
ghosts but he was at a loss to explain how the victim was murdered
behind a locked door.
The only person who had a key was the Prime Minister's daughter,
and to complicate matters the dead man had a number of enemies
who wished to see him dead.
Join Winton as he unravels the secret behind the locked door.

• Language: English
• Publisher: jim Carr
• Release date: Jun 4, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201704650

Jim Carr

Jim Carr's adventure with words began as a teacher of Latin grammar, followed by a lengthy career in print journalism as a reporter, columnist and editor. He left to become a communications specialist for a number of national and international corporations and institutions. He returned to journalism in retirement and acts as associate editor of Spa Canada magazine as well as freelancing for other publications. He writes a blog about Thai resorts and spas, which is featured on Spa Canada's website, as well as fiction.

Book preview

THE DOOR

Jim Carr

COPYRIGHT 2022 JamesWCarr

ISBN: 9781989425459

Chapter One

Alex Thorton read the letter a second time. He felt the embossed letters on the back of the envelope. It came from the Prime Minister’s office, an invitation for new MPs to attend a garden party at the Prime Minister’s summer home in Gladstonbury. He smiled and wondered what to wear. Dermot Marshall, the PM’s chief of staff, would know, and he made a note to call him.

He was sitting in his constituency office on Shaftsbury Street in Gladstonbury. Aside from a letter from Parliament confirming his election, which he had framed and hung on the wall behind his desk below a large picture of the Queen, his office was Spartan compared to other MP offices.

Except for a second-hand desk, two chairs, and a small sofa next to the door, his office was bare bones in keeping his campaign promise to use taxpayer money wisely.  He resisted urgings from his secretary, Margaret Gillmore, to add a  carpet and wallpaper his office walls, but she brought in a few colour pictures showing Gladstonbury’s parks and painted her office wall white. There was also a battered olive green filing cabinet, a black phone, and a second-hand typewriter.

Alex had an appointment with an estate agent in the afternoon. He prided himself on spending money wisely and now had enough to buy the old Manor house, where it was said Shakespeare once dined. No one had lived there for years, and it needed repair because it was said to be haunted. That was for ignorant people. He didn’t believe in ghosts, but if it meant it could get the Manor house at a low price, he was prepared to believe it for a day or two.

He met Adam Henshaw, the estate agent at The Gladstone’s newly opened dining room, about an hour later. It was packed, and several wellwishers stopped Alex to congratulate him. Hugh Gatewood, The Gladstone’s owner, led them to a table in the corner where they could have a private conversation.

They were barely seated when Henshaw offered him a toast. To your continued success, Alex.  The toast was with water, but it suited Alex in every way. They talked about a new tax the government was considering that would extend to the sale of homes. Everyone thinks we earn a bucket full of money every time we make a sale, but there’s precious little left by the time we pay expenses.

I’ll look it when I get back to Whitehall.

Henshaw nodded and suddenly brightened. Talking about sales, are you really interested in buying Somerset Hall?

I am but not at the price the owners want for it.Then, after a pause, we both know it’s not an easy sell at any price considering the tales about it being haunted by ghosts.

Henshaw’s face darkened. I’ll see the owners this afternoon and try to get them to lower their price. If I can, are you prepared to buy it?

As I said, if the price is right, I’m prepared to buy it. This afternoon, if that helps.

Leave it with me.

MR. HENSHAW HAS BEEN calling you all afternoon. He wants to know if he can see you this afternoon, said his secretary. He sounded very anxious.

Tell him I will be here until six.

Thirty minutes later, Adam Henshaw walked into his office with a folder bulging with papers. The owners are prepared to cut the price by 30%. The owner has died, and his daughter owns it now, and she wants to move to London.

Henshaw leafed through the folder to find the bill of sale. He placed it in front of Alex, who read it over carefully before signing it. I see it must be witnessed. Will my secretary do?

Henshaw nodded. Alex reached for the intercom and asked her to come into his office. You need to witness my signature. He then signed the sale document and passed it to Margaret, who signed it. Will that be all?

Alex nodded and passed the document back to Henshaw, who provided him with a copy of the bill of sale with the owner’s signature. Alex studied it and nodded. Henshaw rose and shook his hand. It’s yours now, lock, stock and barrel. I will take it to the records office at town hall and have the sale recorded.

THE GARDEN PARTY WAS in full swing when Alex arrived. Dermot Marshall had suggested he wear a tux for the event. He straightened his bow tie, looked at himself in the mirror and swept back his dark brown hair and rinsed his mouth. Alex’s face looked tanned, and his dark brown eyes seemed to take on a life of their own.

A string quartet was playing popular music, and several other MPs and their wives were chatting with the PM. He nodded to a few of his friends and shook hands with Mayor Harker. He could feel someone looking at him and turned to see a young woman in her early 20s staring in his direction. She caught his eyes and walked towards him.

She held out her hand. Call me Belinda. Not the PM’s daughter, please. And why is the most handsome man of the gathering standing alone?

He was about to respond but instead took her hand and kissed it. I didn’t know the PM had such a beautiful daughter.

Belinda had stars in her bright blue eyes. She pushed back her blond hair with her left hand to show more of her face. Fortunately, I’ve inherited my mother’s looks. ‘

They both laughed. Have you seen our garden yet? It’s quite wonderful. She grabbed his arm and led him down a path of flowers and to a bower entwined with freshly budded roses. Shall we sit? she said, leading him to sit beside her. She kissed him on the lips. I’ve wanted to do that since you entered. I hope you don’t mind.

No, it’s my lucky day.

"That is very sweet of you. All the others are doing their damndest to get noticed by my father. Her blond hair was cut short, and she had the habit of running her hand through it when she was attracted to someone. Her voice was soft in a way that made others feel excited.

Kiss me again, she said, closing her eyes. Alex helped her stand and put his arms around her, and kissed her for almost a minute. She withdrew and smiled before slipping her arm in his and leading him to the crowd of ministers around her father.

Belinda called out. Her father heard her voice and spotted her with one of his MPs. I’d like you to meet your newest MP, Alex Thorton.The PM nodded, and a few minutes later, he led them inside the greenhouse.

Yes, said the PM, you represent the riding of Gladstonbury. You’re very welcome. I hope my daughter hasn’t made a nuisance of herself. I want to introduce you to some of the people who may be of help to you come election time.  He led into the garden, where Ethan Howard, Gladstonbury’s richest man, was talking to Dr. Manson Culver and Inspector Winton Hazlett.

I understand you’ve acquired Somerset Hall, said Hazlett, shaking Alex’s hand.

Alex smiled. I’ve had my eye on it for some time.

You’re not scared of ghosts, I take it? said the PM with a laugh. His bushy eyebrows arched in a smile. All the same, I should not feel comfortable there by myself. I take it, you’re not married.

Alex smiled, unsure what to say next.

Mason Culver led the others in a loud laugh and patted him on the back. I have a feeling you will be sooner than you imagine. You’d be quite a catch.

THERE’S SOMEONE FROM the PM’s office for you, Margaret shouted. Alex lifted the receiver. It was Dermot Marshall. "It appears you’ve made quite an impression on the PM’s daughter.

We met at the garden party. I hope all is well.

The PM tells me she’s fallen madly in love with you.

I’m not sure why. We had a brief chat, and she ended up kissing me. I didn’t pay much attention to it. I’m not exactly in her circle of friends.

Whatever the case, she’s after her father to find out if you’re interested in her and, if you are, what your intentions are. The PM has asked me to ask you to meet with him tomorrow morning.

Alex didn’t respond immediately.

Are you still there, Alex?

Yes, I’d be happy to meet with the PM at any time he wishes.

Say ten o’clock.

Ten o’clock it is. Alex put the receiver down and sat back. A hundred different thoughts were swirling in his head all at one time. He had a good feeling about it but wasn’t sure how to play his hand. He would let the PM start and see where it would take him. He’s bound to ask how I feel about his daughter, he thought, and knew he needed to think about a few ways he might respond.

More thoughts crowded his head when he turned off the light and closed his eyes: How he should sit, how could he make a favourable impression on the PM. He would try to copy the way he sits and how he holds his head. Whatever the outcome, he had to make the PM feel he was cabinet material.

He rose early and cut his chin while shaving. He looked in the drawer for the alum stick to stop the bleeding. His hands were still shaking when he ate breakfast and knew he must get control of himself. He dressed and dove to the PM’s summer home 20 minutes early for their meeting.

Dermot Marshall was waiting for him and led him to the PM’s office. Marshall paused at the door before knocking. He’s in a foul mood this morning. So be careful, he said, opening the door and leading Alex into the PM’s home office. The PM, a tall man with sharp, piercing slate grey eyes and white thining hair, shook his hand and motioned Alex to the chair in front of his desk.

It would appear, Mr. Thorton, that you have made quite an impression on my daughter. She’s quite taken with you. I gather she has made no secret of that to you.

We exchanged a kiss, but that was all. Belinda did most of the talking.

The PM’s eyes were like lasers.Whatever the case, how do you feel about her?

I am fascinated by her but do not know her well enough to give you a definitive answer.

Thank you for being honest.Then, after a pause, how do you feel about getting to know her and for us to get to know you better?

Alex looked the PM in the eye. I should like that very much.

Call her when you feel like seeing her again. Here is her number, he added, passing a card to Alex. One final question. Are you seeing someone else?

Alex thought about Faith and shook his head.

THE RAIN SPATTERED the windshield of Alex’s car in front of Faith’s home. His hands shook as he tried to light a cigarette.

What’s wrong, Alex. Something is, said Faith.

Alex never liked being the bearer of ill news and dreaded for what he had to say now. This is the last time we’ll be seeing each other.

What do you mean? her voice suddenly became hard and mean – a tone he had never heard from her before.

He glanced at her face. In the light from an overhead street light, he noticed the lines that suddenly appeared around the corners of her eyes and the tightness of her lips. Just as I said. We will no longer be seeing each other. I’m sorry, but I’m moving on.

But everyone believes we’re a couple. I will not be able to show my face anywhere in town once this gets out.

His voice became stronger now. I never suggested that we were a couple, not even once.

Faith started to cry. He resisted putting his arms around her or trying to console her. She looked at him. You will regret this, Alex Thorton. You’ve led me down the garden path, and you’ll pay for this, one way or another. And I will do everything in my power to make sure you do.

She opened the door and left it open as she walked away with her head bent and her shoulders shuddering.

Chapter Two

W ake up, you lazy bones , said Belinda’s voice on the phone. The morning’s half gone, and you’re still in bed. Don’t deny it. I can hear it in your voice.

I have a busy morning ahead of me.

What’s so busy that you can’t see me?

I just bought the old Manor house that everyone thinks is haunted. If you’d like to come with me, your suggestions for updating it would be very appreciated.

Wait for me at the Manor house. Belinda walked into their garage, started her two-seater, and headed in the direction of Somerset Hill. Why anyone would want a run-down old house like that was beyond her. She had the latest bed style with covers imprinted with The Beatles and a phonograph player that played LPs. She had a private stash of marijuana hidden among her underclothes and smoked it every night before going to sleep.

Let him have his Manor house. She would turn it into place with strings of beads at all doorways and have special chairs where her friends could light up and get into the mood.

Alex was waiting for her when she arrived. He showed her the key to the front door. She grabbed it from his hand and opened the door, which took them to an entrance hall, with flags hanging from poles on both sides of the room. Belinda led the way, making a mental note to change the flags for something more psychological, and entered the dining room, with its long hardwood table stained a deep brown that reflected the light from the large window on the opposite wall. Next was the kitchen, with its mammoth fireplace, and then into the library, still filled with old books.

The bedrooms are upstairs. Shall we? Belinda said with a mischievous look in her eyes. She went straight for the master bedroom. It was a large room with a threadbare carpet of a country scene. She sat on the edge of the bed and drew him to her, smothering him with kisses as she lowered them to the bed.

ALEX DECIDED TO DELAY moving into the Manor house. Everyone thought it was because of the ghost, but he became increasingly uneasy about his relationship with Belinda. If her father knew what they were doing, he could kiss his career goodbye. Worse still, what would happen if she suddenly became pregnant.

Belinda wanted to meet him every day at the Manor, but he put her off by saying he had to deal with some local problems that required immediate attention. She began to sulk and, on some occasions, slapped his face when he disagreed with her.