The right thing

By Tamara Nejad

As a dark anniversary approaches, the members of the Roseville family gather in what once was their home: teeming with life and filled with melodic voices of Sir Robert's three growing daughters.
Now, ten years after the tragic death of his wife, Rosamund Roseville, which filled the walls of the family manor with grief and glum, Sir Robert's daughters once more return to the cursed home to witness the end of their father's decade-long vigil.

The celebration soon turns into a colosseum of crime, death and secrets coming out in the open like the recklessly spilled wedding champagne once Robert's dear friend is found dead in the circumstances eerily familiar to his beloved Rosamund's untimely demise.

Living their lives full of deceit, pain and passions, the guests of the Roseville manor meander through the dark secrets while the mystery grows more ominous with every piercing question of the inquisitive detective who hopes to redeem himself after letting a killer get away with murder for way too long.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jun 19, 2022
• ISBN: 9781471662812

Book preview

Tamara Nejad

The right thing

First original digital edition

Copyright © 2022 Tamara Nejad

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 9 781471 662812

Do we really need to go so early? A young woman, as delightfully as annoyingly stretched on the bed over Lothar's ironed shirts, exposing her heavy breasts and bare skin of her soft thighs. Lothar smiled tenderly. He noticed bruises his fingers must have left on her arms and hips and couldn't help but feel guilty about hurting  her, yet the woman seemed far from bothered. Lothar approached her and yanked one of his less mangled shirts from under her.

You look yummy, Tammi, but we must. It's a big day for Robert, and I don't want him to find out about...  things, from your family or from some gossip column. It's important to me. He sat down by her side and lightly kissed her shoulder blade as she turned around and arched her back like a sleepy cat. Also, if not now, then when?

She pouted and turned onto her stomach, stretching again.

Come on, move it! Lothar slapped her jokingly and got up, rescuing the other shirt. Tammi sneezed and wiggled her nose like a ferret, a little disappointed that Lothar did not stay in bed with her some more. She caught a glance of her morning face in the mirror by the vanity and sighed, realising she should probably exchange her favourite gin for green tea if she wanted to keep her skin rosy and plump… and of course, for other reasons, she reminded herself, satisfied with her glowing complexion. She was twenty years younger than Lothar and- although far from shallow- dead set on keeping her looks. Tammi was well aware that she looked even younger than she was, of course, and the way Lothar looked at her made her feel like she was the only woman in the world. The feeling was justified; ever since he met her, there was no one else. He was sure of her love, and yet she often made him more jealous than he would ever like to admit. She loved teasing him, but having seen his anger tried not to provoke him, especially in front of friends. Tammi would still blush thinking about their first meeting alone. Despite her blase performance, she couldn't wait to see Robert and to tell him about their plans. Lothar, however, was not entirely sure if Robert, Tammi's adoptive father, was going to be as excited about the news they were about to break. Barely eight years Robert's junior, Lothar had known Robert Roseville  forever; truth be told it was their friendship and Robert's experience that helped them both survive their medical service in the Middle East. Opening practice with Robert gave Lothar quite literally a new chance in life, especially after rumours of misconduct on duty had reached his Danish colleagues in Copenhagen and going to work at the hospital where he had started his practice proved impossible. The same British passport, courtesy of his English-born mother, which made it possible to pursue his studies in London also, rather unfortunately, made him British enough to join the Army as a surgeon…

Lothar lit a cigarette and sat down on the windowsill; he looked at the woman still pouting in their bed with caring affection in his dark, almond eyes. The man inhaled deeply, observing Tammi's every small gesture as she was doing her hair up in a messy bun and looking for her underwear between the sheets. Tammi was so much younger, so tender, her milky skin so warm and her fluffy golden rose hair so soft on his skin- he could not resist her, even when she was barely a college girl, as he recalled with a bit of remorse. He didn't understand now how he could ever pretend he did not love her. His mood darkened momentarily when a heavy memory came to his mind; Tammi noticed this sudden change and left the soft warmth of their bed, misinterpreting his sorrow for impatience. She kissed Lothar's fingers gently and bent down to grab her satin top from the floor.

Wait, he said, pulling her closer. Maybe we can spare a few moments after all. He lifted Tammi off the ground so she wrapped herself around him like a silky koala and giggled, kissing him deeply and gently biting his lip until they stopped by the wall and Tammi could lean her back on the cheap, plywood door. She grabbed a thick, flaky door frame for balance. A few moments later the receptionist who was just coming over to inform Lothar that their taxi was coming in ten minutes, decided against knocking on their door.

Honeymooners, guessed the maid cheerfully, passing the receptionist on her way down the corridor.

***

Babe? in a spacious, comfortable flat in the middle of Brighton's Lanes,  another couple was getting ready for the very same party. The morning was rather disappointing in the house of the Szuberts, and the inquisitive term of endearment did not get a reply since Stella Szubert, unlike her friend and oldest niece- Tammi- decided she was going to do absolutely nothing to tease or tempt her husband, at least until he makes amends. The problem her husband was facing, however, was that he did not know what his transgressions were, so he did what any reasonable man would- decided to wait it out.

Although she really was a natural beauty, Stella was doing everything to add years to her appearance; she rather ostentatiously refused to take care of herself, aiming for what she considered a dignified, natural look of an ascetic sage. Her husband, Sigismund, an immigrant artist who made quite an impact on the English art scene, accepted and pulled through his wife's eccentricities, pretty happy to have her at home rather than close by at the workshop where he enjoyed his bohemian lifestyle and the flattering company of many enamoured, young artists and models.

Weirdly enough, the reason Stella would give for her behaviour and au naturel torture was not the artistic debauchery and nearly burlesque endevours of her husband, but the money; Stella, despite a great inheritance she had come into a few years back after her sister's death, ruined her fortune with many unsuccessful attempts at being a businesswoman, not wishing to be just a trophy wife to a successful man. Her misguided investments and ventures had cost her dearly- not just financially. Eventually even Stella herself had to admit that her efforts were misdirected and that her budget downfall came from her ego- the only way to overcome the shame of financial compromisation was, as she learnt through tons of self-help books, to transcend the physical form and to transform, like a moth, into a lighter, new being. Sigi looked at his wife's financial frolics with a quiet, bemused pity, but would not keep a straight face once Stella announced she was going to join a yoga and meditation group in Cove. His sniggering did not win him any favours with his newly reborn wife, and even now, deaf to his call, she was deep in a meditating state induced by sickly whale songs of the dying oceans.

Sigi sighed and looked at his wife, elegant, slender and perfectly dull in her long, crispy white robe. He thought briefly about Stella's family and grinned. Yes, Tammi, Nina and Fiona, Stella’s youthful and carefree nieces, were all delightfully spoiled, a joy to look at and, most importantly, definitely not engaged in far East meditation nonsense...

Sigi frowned. He couldn't help but wonder if Tammi was going to arrive at all after their last encounter: he could feel something had been bothering her and yet he would not mention it during their session, out of fear of his favourite model getting distressed and leaving before he would have been able to finish his work. Sigi had been angry with himself for keeping this indifferent façade, but alas; the portrait had truly turned out to be his best. Now he impatiently clicked his tongue, unreasonably angry that it was not summer so that he could enjoy the views by a swimming pool in Robert's doubtlessly glorious garden.

Stella! Robert is not going to wait for us! he exclaimed finally, and- as transcendent as one can be- Stella knew better than to annoy him too much. More importantly, she definitely didn’t want to disappoint her brother-in-law. To be fair, this whole meditation jig was not really doing much for her or- if she was to be perfectly honest- to her sense of balance and simplicity. In her heart of hearts she missed spending too much money and being spoiled. As is the case with every good marriage, no side was really willing to show defeat; Stella did not want to admit she wanted to be her husband's pretty princess again, and Sigi himself did not want to come begging to her for attention he clearly missed, especially looking at her now, changing into expensive, tulle lingerie and a simple, cashmere dress. They both exhaled a little bit too exaggeratedly.

Let's go, then- he held out his arm for her and they left the apartment, both fantasising about a quick stop in the forest on the way to the Scottish manor, and both equally unwilling to be the first to suggest it.

***

We thought you weren't coming, sir! Henrietta, Robert Roseville's housemaid, welcomed Rasmus, Robert's younger brother with both enthusiasm and rapture, grabbing one of his smaller bags in a hurry and scurrying after him like a preoccupied chicken. We did not prepare a room for you, let me talk to sir Robert... but her words fell on deaf ears as Rasmus, clearly determined, kissed her hand, retrieved his luggage from her and hurried into one of the guest rooms upstairs- the room obviously prepared for a woman. Rose fragrance and fresh, red flowers adorned the nightstands and a small vanity desk, and there were two glass vials of perfume and a rose petal face toner by an ornate mirror.

I'll be okay, Henrietta, I grew up here, I like to believe there is always a place for me here? He said it in jest, clearly, yet the maid felt a hot blush coming to her face, terrified that she might have offended Robert's brother. Now, fret not, I will see my brother and let him know I’ve changed my mind. Do remove the roses, however, I feel like it was my funeral! The maid bustled around like a bumblebee, preparing the room for not only a man, but her master's brother, of all people. Why don't those rich people ever feel bad for the staff, she wondered, begrudgingly removing rather beautiful flowers from the guest room.

Miss Rutledge shan't be pleased, though mentioned Henrietta on her way out. She did ask for this room, she wanted her windows safely away from the patio in case the party goes on until late at night should she choose to go to sleep soon. Rasmus glanced at her, his expression puzzling, a smirk on his face fighting with the blank expression in his eyes; Henrietta did not dare to make another remark. Rasmus Roseville spoke as she was leaving the room, but she heard him well.

And I was so sure hags are most active during the night. Rasmus slammed the door behind the maid, making her drop the vial with rose perfume on the carpet.

Oh, shoosh! she muttered to herself.

***

You sure you won't be coming by a 2pm train? We could pick you up on the... yes, I did hear you the first time, no need to be rude. How are we related I will never understand. Enjoy the train ride, then! Nina slammed the receiver and cussed under her breath.

Ts, ts, ts, you should put a coin into the swear jar! Noah Hunter, Nina’s husband embraced her from behind and kissed her neck gently. Was it your sister? The question was mostly rhetorical, he had to admit, since only one person was able to annoy Nina so much within a three minute phone call. She changed her plans again? How many options have we had so far, three... four? He adjusted his silk, purple tie in front of a big mirror in their truly lavish guest room. Despite their surroundings, he wished they were still at home, enjoying the warm satin bed sheets of their own bed. Still, seeing Nina now, so delighted to be back in her childhood home, he couldn't help but relax.  Noah was very proud of his own house in Cambridge, more so every time he invited people over. The investment he had made with his wife years before was keeping them comfortable and allowed them to travel and enjoy the extravagant lifestyle he had always wished for for his beautiful wife; a smart investment he knew would not be possible had he not risked everything and trusted Robert's friend, Sigi Szubert. He smiled and playful mischief sparkled in his eyes. He looked at his wife lovingly, fidgeting with a loose lock of hair which had escaped the grasp of the tight, decorative hair clip in his wife's thick, auburn hair. Her full lips, fiery red, and very bright blue eyes did not leave any doubt about her Scottish roots, she was as stunning as her late mother. Robert's daughter looked forward to seeing him- so much so that she arrived at the Manor the day before everybody else, hoping to spend some family time with her father alone. Noah obliged, even though there were things he had to deal with once and for all now that he was in this house again. Things he had not been looking forward to.

What is it, handsome? inquired Nina, spotting his suddenly tense expression in the mirror. Are you upset that we arrived so early?

Oh, no, don't worry about it. Yesterday was precious, I couldn't be happier seeing you so cheerful... Robert missed you dearly, it was obvious. Nina wrinkled her freckled nose and let it go, worried to see her husband so gloomy. Noah started to pull on his wife's long back zipper when she turned her head a little to face him.

I was thinking, she initiated, hoping to lift his spirits, ...how about we hire another maid, huh? I must say I do miss having my pillows fluffed and a coffee ready before I even know I want one? I think we shouldn't give up such help because of the money... Noah stepped back and wrinkled his forehead, considering something in his head.

Let's get back to this idea once the weekend is over, okay? He went out, leaving his wife unpleasantly surprised in front of the mirror, with her long dress still hopelessly unzipped. Wait, how am I supposed to... oh, damn it!

Noah stepped into the corridor just in time to bump into Henrietta, bent on the floor and trying to dry the carpet but sadly only pressing the thick perfumed oil deeper into the fabric. She gasped with a start when Noah approached her, but before he could say anything Nina's uncle, Rasmus, opened the door to his commandeered bedroom. Both men looked at each other rather baffled.

I did not expect you here, Rasmus! Fantastic to see you! Noah greeted his wife's uncle first.

You are here already, splendid! You shall join me for a drink before my brother busts a vein seeing me here unannounced, boy! Rasmus laughed jovially and led Noah down the stairs towards the big, well equipped kitchen. One thing we will never run short of is booze, eh! Rasmus was way more entertaining than Noah could recall. He went along with this wave of party mood, though; 

Let's start the party, then! Henrietta, please do not disturb my wife, she is getting ready to meet her family, he added more sternly than it was called for, a smile gone from his face in the blink of an eye.

Now, now, Noah, let the little girls gossip a little! Rasmus rushed him down the stairs, leaving Henrietta alone in the corridor. Scrubbing the soaked carpet she was hoping she could piss in Noah's cereal. His and all other rude assholes' she had to deal with all her working life.

***

Are you sure it is smart to keep the whole house open like that? Anthony Morrow, Robert's secretary and accountant, turned around, taken by surprise, at the sound of an otherwise familiar voice.

Doctor Sorrensen, you gave me quite a fright he said coldly, approaching Lothar and- quite unexpectedly- Tammi Roseville. Anthony and Lothar shook hands at the door. Anthony wasn't fond of Lothar, but he hated himself even more for those low feelings and the reason behind them. He kissed Tammi's hand, pretending not to be moved by seeing her with Robert's oldest friend; Tammi smiled delightfully and kissed his cheek in return.

Anthony’s heart melted instantly.

Where is Robert? asked Tammi excitedly. She tilted her head slightly, her hair cascading down her white, smooth neck; thin, golden necklaces worth more than his monthly salary, as Anthony imagined, entangled it loosely, flowing down her collarbones and into her deep neckline. Anthony looked up, meeting her very green and very expectant gaze. He was fighting a blush, yet he felt it burning his cheeks despite all efforts.

Robert... oh, of course, he is in his bedroom, should I..., he proposed gingerly.

I do know my way around, sunshine, Tammi kissed Anthony's forehead and moved on, leaving her two bags by the wall. Lothar grabbed them swiftly and rather effortlessly, and refused Anthony's help with the rest of the luggage.

I will just throw it into the room and go see Robert upstairs, no worries, Tony!

And what about Miss Tammi's room? Anthony pressed, glancing at her bags in the doctor's grip.  Lothar looked back at him and blinked quickly. She should be staying upstairs with Fiona, I believe? reminded him Tony suggestively. In her old bedroom?

Oh, yes... Well, this will not be a problem, really. I will see you later for a drink, then. Thank you. I think maybe lock the main door, though, added the doctor, pointing to the main entrance of the house.

Anthony intended to join Rasmus and Noah for a quick drink, but curiosity got the best of him and he stayed in the hallway, conveniently hidden from view. If somebody asked him why, he would probably lie, saying he wanted to make sure that Lothar knew the way to Tammi's old accommodation. Anthony knew perfectly well, however, that Tammi was not going to stay in her old bedroom, and soon he watched Lothar leave his guest room empty handed, Tammi's bags dropped on the floor along with his own, evidently. Anthony stayed there, hidden, and looked after Lothar, tormenting himself thinking of the small bed Robert's friend was clearly going to share with Tammi tonight... the bed, or maybe the shower... Was Sorrensen going to watch Tammi take off her silk dress and...

You okay, Tony?

The accountant jumped, not aware of Carl's presence. The chef had just left the kitchen and spotted Anthony standing in the corridor, his fists clenched. Anthony did not even realise that he was still grasping the corkscrew he had been asked to bring from the lounge. He squeezed it so hard that it broke the skin.

You okay, man? Carl walked over to his colleague and pulled out the tool from Tony's grip. Did you see a ghost? You need a good drink, come. A drink is good for everything, he encouraged.

Yeah... a drink is good for everything. I grabbed the wrong end, nothing serious. I always get the wrong end remarked Anthony grimly. Carl did not say anything to that. The chef had, however, noticed that Tammi Roseville and doctor Sorrensen arrived together a few moments before;  he could see them through the window of the dining room where he had been preparing a hot buffet. Carl didn't think much of it, as the train station was close enough and Lothar might have picked Miss Tammi up on his way, but now he looked down on the bloodied corkscrew and sighed deeply, worrying about his younger, clearly enamoured friend. Anthony was not particularly covert with his boyish infatuation. The chef knew, sadly, that this feeling was not reciprocated and often thought it more than a coincidence that since the oldest miss Roseville moved out of the mansion, doctor Sorrensen hadn't been visiting as frequently as he used to.

Carl liked Tony; they had been working together for how long... he wondered for a moment. Twelve, thirteen years? Carl knew that Tony must have had some trouble in his younger days, he... Well, he overheard a conversation between the accountant and Robert's late wife once. Rosamund Roseville was sure to let Anthony know that Robert will not accept any funny business like that. Like what- this Carl would never ask. He had his own share of trouble and did not feel like poking other people's old wounds.

Screw that! he said enigmatically, entering the kitchen with Anthony.

AMEN! exclaimed both Rasmus and Noah, who had obviously managed to start a pre-party without the corkscrew which Carl was now holding. They gave up wine, which Rasmus deemed too girly for men to drink in secret, and just popped some of the champagne that had been stored in the kitchen for the reception. The two men were currently going for a round of cards. Anthony got back to his solid, reliable self, agreeing to play the croupier. A drink and good old gambling, thought Carl. What else do we need, really?  Soon all four of them got distracted by the game and only Anthony raised his eyebrows, perplexed, thinking he might have heard a shot from the balcony upstairs. Bottles be popping everywhere, here! Cheers! Rasmus proposed, pouring more drinks for everyone.

***

Upstairs on Robert's spacious balcony, cunningly protected from the cool wind by a decorative wicker screen, the two old friends indeed popped a bottle of prosecco. Tammi raised her glass and proudly presented her tastefully manicured hand to her guardian. Robert could not hold his emotions and affectedly embraced her, genuinely shocked and yet deeply moved and joyous. He had of course realised his best friend's feelings towards Tammi were far from indifferent, but he would never dare to pry how far they went. It was a question of discretion and elegance, and he could absolutely not  stand gossip or rumours.  Robert did think of Tammi as his daughter, and even though she was not his flesh and blood he did not wish to inquire and question her romantic choices: he had always considered these matters too intimate for any man to dive into with a young lady. Even imagining a conversation about any of his daughter’s love life made him shiver with discomfort. He really missed his wife in those situations. Tammi was about to turn 30 next year, but her childlike face and big, round eyes made him feel as if the time had stopped for her many years ago. Robert recalled the first day Lothar met her- she had just arrived home for a summer vacation from her school in London- a long, beautiful and uncharacteristically hot summer. Looking at her now, Robert could still remember the quiet splashes of the water in the swimming pool below, her blue swimsuit and his friend's inappropriately elegant shirt, all wet, drying on the lounge chair after he had fallen into the very blue water.

Years, Robert remarked, putting his hand on Lothar's shoulder and raising his glass to his friend. You have been hopelessly in love with her for god knows how many years. It would drive me mad, such a hide and seek! Lothar smiled, his eyes twinkling and his soul much lighter now, as he understood his friend's blessing was granted. I remember the first day you two met, in the garden. I was right here on the balcony, I thought I was crazy imagining my competent, reasonable friend could get so clumsy and distracted over a young girl!

Clumsy? I remember she pulled me into the swimming pool! protested Lothar, clearly ashamed to be reminded of his weakness.

Because you were wearing a shirt and a black jacket in 34 degrees! It was hilarious, explained Tammi, not ashamed one bit.

Robert laughed, realising that it must have been a true cat-and-mouse nightmare for his dear friend to hide the feelings for his adoptive daughter.

Was it really the first time you two met? I will never know, I guess. Have I really... Robert faked terror in his voice, Did I really catch you two together last year...

Stop, please! Lothar poked Robert's chest jokingly, I do not want to remember that, I was so embarrassed  I couldn't stay for Christmas dinner!

"Oh please,