The Chornbrook Mysteries Book Two: The Circles

By George Chornbrook

The Chornbrook Mysteries, Book Two is the collection of short stories where some mysterious and often tragic events happened in different circumstances and in various time frames.

Sometimes it is a crime of passion, or an act of revenge, like what made Hamlet with his "To be, or not to be" the reflection of the struggle of human conscience.

As a rule, it is up to official police to find the criminal but sometimes there would be some mystic in a way a crime was solved or prevented.

Often when a crime was committed it was about money, the root of all evils according to public opinion which is not totally correct because it is human greed and the people themselves who are the driving force behind each crime.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 24, 2022
• ISBN: 9798885050753

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

The St. Martin Mystery

Murder Under the Stars

The Innocent Proposals

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

The Right Decision

Forever Yours

The Circles

The Summer Thunderstorm

The Last Train

The Other Girl

The Dog in the Master Bedroom

The Sinkhole

The Puppet Show

The Night Dream

From Point A to Point B

All Quarters Are Alike

About the Author

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The Chornbrook Mysteries Book Two

The Circles

George Chornbrook

Copyright © 2022 George Chornbrook

All rights reserved

First Edition

Fulton Books

Meadville, PA

Published by Fulton Books 2022

These stories are works of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

ISBN 979-8-88505-074-6 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88505-075-3 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

To my wife Irina,

for her patience with all the craziness of my life.

The St. Martin Mystery

Nothing foreboded tragedy on Saint Martin on that Friday at the end of September.

Tourist season was at its last leg as the families rushed back with their kids, who already missed two weeks of schooling.

The weather channel mentioned certain developments in the Caribbean region, but nothing serious was expected.

They were the last to leave the plane. He, in his early sixties, walking with a cane; she, in her early thirties, in a hat that half covered her face.

He looked like a prosperous businessman, but in attire that would come from the Hollywood movies of fifties, the times of Elisabeth Taylor and Richard Burton II.

She looked like coming from Hollywood of its eighties as full-blown replica of Farrah Fawcett.

They proceeded to the baggage claim lounge, where a man in his chauffeur's uniform awaited them. The man took off his cap. Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Pembocks. Your car is waiting.

What is your name, my good man? asked Sir Eustace Pembocks.

Alan, sir, said the chauffeur.

Alan who, for God's sake?

Alan Mervin, sir. I am sorry, sir.

Well, Mervin, what you are waiting for? These are the tickets. Put our luggage in the car and let us go.

The chauffeur put his cap back, touched it with two fingers, and ran to the baggage carousel. He called two porters, who put several suitcases and hatboxes on the cart and rolled it outside.

Outside, there was a Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow.

Mrs. Pembocks was already sitting in the back seat. Sir Eustace was standing near the open door and talking to her. The chauffeur opened the trunk. Some of the suitcases were fixed on the roof; the rest were put into the trunk with the hatboxes. When the loading was completed, Sir Pembocks tipped the porters and sat on the seat next to his wife.

Alan closed the door behind him, jumped to his seat, turned on the engine, and the powerful car smoothly moved along the road that was appropriately named Route de l'Esperance.

It was a short drive, after which the car parked at Villa Monte Rouge. The villa was a four-bedroom one-story building tucked into a gated estate with an enormous private garden.

A butler stepped out of the door and approached the car. Alan rushed to open the limousine door to Sir Eustace and his beautiful, brand-new wife.

Sir Eustace offered her his hand, and they walked together, accompanied by the butler. Alan was busy taking suitcases from the trunk and from the roof. In a hurry, he dropped one of the hatboxes.

Should you be that clumsy, man? said Sir Eustace through clenched teeth.

But his wife said nothing; instead, she just smiled and guided her husband inside the villa.

Alan, red with embarrassment, grabbed several suitcases and hurried to the side door and, through it, to the bedrooms. The butler followed him, telling him where to put the suitcases. Then Alan made a second raid, bringing the rest of the luggage.

Rose, the maid, a Creole in her late twenties, took charge of unpacking the suitcases belonging to Mrs. Pembocks and filling the numerous dressers with their contents.

At the same time, the butler took care of the suitcases belonging to his master, with the short interruption related to the request of whiskey soda on the rocks by Sir Eustace, and a Mojito for Mrs. Pembocks.

Both were sitting at an outside lounge in the shadow of the building.

It was close to four o'clock, and the butler informed his master that a light meal in the form of finger snacks and champagne was served in the dining room.

Again, Sir Eustace offered his hand, and Elisbeth Pembocks, née Carrington, graciously accepted it. She walked slowly, adjusting her steps to the steps of her husband. In the dining room, they sat at the opposite side of the table, whereas the butler served them snacks and champagne in tall flute glasses.

I am thinking of inviting that guy, Alejandro Delgado, said Sir Eustace. And that couple from Boston…what's their name?

You mean John and Cecilia Lambers? asked Elisbeth.

Yes, right, Lambers. He is in politics, I believe.

You know, dear, that there were some rumors about Alejandro and Cecilia.

No, I don't know, and I don't want to know. There is something I need to talk with John in private, and I don't want Cecilia and you to feel bored.

She laughed. Oh, Eustace, how anyone could be bored here? I am already fascinated. It's such a beautiful place.

So it's settled. It will attract less attention if you call Cecilia and invite her. Ask them to come tomorrow. And I would call Ms. Laverne to send an invitation to Delgado. What would you like to do now?

I want to check what Rose—her name is Rose, right?—did with my things, and then I would just sit and watch the sea.

Very well, and I need some rest. The last part of our flight was a little too much for my taste. See you at dinner, dear.

Sir Eustace slowly walked away.

His wife pulled out a gold cigarette case with a lighter, took a cigarette, lit it, inhaled deeply, and slowly blew smoke from her nostrils.

Noiselessly, the butler appeared and put an ashtray on the table.

Thank you, Brenton. She smiled to the butler.

You're welcome, my lady. The butler bowed.

Oh no, Brenton, don't give a title that I'm not entitled to. She smiled again.

For me you always are my lady, the butler replied seriously to her.

Thank you, Brenton, said Elisbeth Pembocks, now without a smile.

The butler withdrew.

Elisbeth finished her cigarette, sighed, and went to her bedroom.

Rose already did all unpacking and placed everything in the appropriate drawers.

I think I will take a bath, said Elisbeth.

Rose filled the bathtub with warm water, added some salts and shampoo, and helped Elisbeth to undress.

Elisbeth slowly plunged into the water, closed her eyes, and relaxed.

Later, she put on a light cotton dress and went to the patio on the seaside of the villa. She sat there, watching seagulls fighting for fish and shells found on the beach.

The sky started to darken; the first stars looked like the golden nails on the dark velvet background.

Sir Eustace appeared on the patio. Did you have a good rest, dear?

Yes, Eustace, thank you. Very good. And you?

Oh, I did well too. By the way, did you call Cecilia?

Yes, and she said that they will be delighted.

Did you tell her anything else?

No, dear. Should I?

No, you did it right. Let us surprise them.

What about Alejandro, Eustace?

He will be coming too. I got a message from Ms. Lavern that an invitation was accepted and he would fly here tomorrow.

The gong sound told them dinner was served.

Sir Eustace offered his hand, and they entered in the dining room together. He led his wife to her seat and then took his seat opposite her.

They ate in silence, which was broken only by clink of glasses.

After dinner, Sir Eustace stayed in the dining room, smoking his pipe, and Elisbeth again went to a porch and sat there until the clock in the living room chimed eleven. Then she sighed again and went to her room.

The long day was over.

But the night had just started.

In a small cottage outside the villa, in servants' quarters, there was light and a sound of music overlapping talking and laughing of a company gathered there.

There was a large living room in the end of the hallway with the doors to four bedrooms. In the middle of the room was a table, and the company was made of two men, Alan and Brenton, and two women, Rose and Sylvia, the cook.

There was a bottle of wine in the middle, and glasses and plates with cold meat and boiled vegetables. The conversation was about scary voodoo stories, the stories Rose and Sylvia, being natives of Saint Martin, believed and the men, being from another planet, did not. They tried to make fun of women's fears, but it did not work.

Worse, Sylvia, who was older than Rose by a couple of years, positively predicted that it would be less than a month before a great misfortune would descend on the villa.

That prediction extinguished the merry mood of the company, and after a while, wine was finished, Good night was said, and everyone went to their bedrooms.

But even after that, the night was filled with quiet sounds and soundless steps, and when sunrise came, Rose noiselessly slipped from Brenton's room, followed by Sylvia returning from Alan's room.

The girls giggled when they met in the hallway and rushed to their rooms before their masters woke up.

Rose was surprised to find her mistress sitting in the chair on the patio in her bathrobe.

Good morning, madame, said Rose. You are early today.

Oh, I am like a nightingale, wake up with the sun rising. Elisbeth smiled.

I already swam in the sea, you know, to get that enormous feeling of weightlessness, the joy when water just holds you, and a breeze took away heat. But you are right, it's time to return to our shores. Would you help me?

She stood up, and both women returned to the villa.

On her way, Elisbeth knocked lightly to the door of her husband's bedroom.

Come in, said the voice of Sir Eustace.

She opened the door.

Her husband, in his pajamas, was sitting at the table by a window, writing something in his notepad. She made a sign for Rose to leave, entered the room, and closed the door.

She came close to him, bent down, and kissed him on the forehead. Her robe was unwound; she was naked under the robe after swimming in the morning sea.

He raised his eyes and kissed her full in the mouth, then he stood up, easily lifted her up, and put her on his bed. Her robe slipped off her, the same as his pajamas. She felt his power to fill her up, up, completely.

She could not catch her breath; she wanted to get away, but instead she embraced him and held him tight, until the last spasm released them both.

They lay together, and then her husband kissed her again, stood up, and went to the bathroom as he was, naked. She rolled over on her stomach, propped her head on her hands, and stayed that way for a couple of minutes, smiling. Then she sighed, jumped from the bed, put on her robe, and went to her bedroom through the connecting door.

Brenton appeared in the hallway carrying a shaving set on a tray. He knocked on the door of Sir Eustace's bedroom and, getting a Come in, entered.

Sir Eustace, in his bathrobe, appeared at the door of the bathroom.

Good morning, Sir Eustace, said Brenton.

Good morning, good morning, Brenton.

Sir Eustace sat in the chair and listened to Brenton, who was shaving him and telling him that the Lambers took the early plane from Boston and should be landing in another half hour.

I took the liberty, Sir Eustace, of sending Alan to the airport.

Quite all right, my good man, quite all right.

Would you like to have your breakfast now, Sir Eustace? Brenton asked.

Yes, we do not need to wait for anyone.

Very good, Sir Eustace.

Sir Eustace went to the patio, looked at the bright blue sky, the sea filling all space up to the horizon, then returned to the villa.

Elisbeth was already sitting at the table with her plate full of scrambled eggs and bacon.

I am sorry, Eustace, I just could not help myself. I was so hungry.

Sir Eustace laughed, came to the side table, filled his plate with scrambled eggs, and put a couple of wieners on a side. He ate methodically, as does a man who is used to do everything methodically. When he finished, he poured himself a cup of coffee, took a small toast, and spread jam on it.

Brenton poured coffee for Elisbeth, and she also took a small toast and jam.

The breakfast was finished.

Elisbeth went to her room to change, and Sir Eustace sat on the patio, smoking.

A car rolled over and stopped at the entrance to the villa.

Brenton appeared in the patio. Mr. and Mrs. Lambers, Sir Eustace.

Thank you, Brenton. Please tell my wife to join me.

Sir Eustace got up and went to meet his guests.

The car was staying with open doors.

A tall man in his midforties, blue-eyed, with small mustaches, got out of the car and, carrying his overcoat on his arm, approached Sir Eustace with outstretched hand. Thank you, Eustace, for inviting us.

Sir Eustace shook his hand. That's quite all right, my good fellow. Glad to see you. How was your flight?

Terrible, as usual. But it is difficult for the first ten years, then you get accustomed, right?

A woman in a light pantsuit stepped out of the car.

She was approximately the same age as Elisbeth, and the same height, but if Elisbeth had golden hair, the newcomer was a hot brunette.

Elisbeth came out of the door, moved forward, and embraced her. Hello, Cecilia. So glad you came. Brenton will show you your room.

John Lambers stopped dead.

Please, follow me, said Brenton and led the way, with Cecilia and John following him, and Alan, carrying their luggage, trapped the procession.

Now, where the hell is this fellow Alejandro? asked Sir Eustace.

Elisbeth smiled. I hope he was not spooked by John coming with Cecilia.

The phone rang.

Brenton appeared. Mr. Delgado just called, Sir Eustace. He is taking a cab and will be here soon.

Good. Let me know when he arrives. And put him in that red bedroom, will you?

Very well, Sir Eustace.

Sir Eustace went to the patio. John Lambers was sitting there, smoking. There were bottles and glasses on the side table.

What's yours? asked Sir Eustace.

Gin and tonic, please.

Sir Eustace did some ministrations and gave his guest a glass. He took another glass and sat in the chair, looking at the sea. Both men, the host and the guest, kept silence.

The noise of an approaching car meant that the last guest had arrived. Nobody moved.

The butler appeared on the doorsteps. Mr. Alejandro Delgado.

A tall young man stepped into the patio.

Sir Eustace stood up.

Glad to see you, Alejandro. Help yourself. I suppose you know each other.

We've met, said John Lambers.

I had the honor of being presented to Mr. and Mrs. Lambers, said the newcomer.

Excellent. I will leave you now, gentlemen. Lunch at 2:00 p.m. No need to change. Let's keep it on informal leg. He laughed and left.

So how is your business going, Delgado? asked John Lambers.

As my lawyer would say, it's a leading question, John, quietly answered the young man.

I mean that scandal with the missing money in your company.

The culprit was apprehended and sentenced.

Did he?

I abhor your insinuations, John. As you were fully aware, money was found and reimbursed.

They said that the money came from a certain wealthy person without the knowledge of her husband.

There was always money in circulation that the husbands had no idea about, Alejandro said coldly. I think I would better see my room. See you later, John.

He left. John shrugged, pulled out another cigarette, and lit it on. He heard the steps behind him but did not turn his head.

Don't be such a naughty boy, John, a voice behind said mockingly.

Oh my god, Elisbeth, what are you doing here?

I live here, John. Didn't you know? I am the wife of Sir Eustace Pembocks. For three weeks already.

No. Why?

"What do you mean why? People do get marry. Didn't you marry Cecilia?"

My god, I had no idea. What is this all about? Why had he invited us? And that gigolo?

Why did you ask so many questions? Aren't you glad to see me? A respectable woman married to a respectable man.

And it was you who talked to Cecilia? Passed the invitation? And Cecilia did not say anything about it being you. How come?

I think she knew. Women have an uncanny ability to recognize their rivals.

What are we going to do?

"We are going to do nothing. You would behave yourself with complete decorum, or I would tell Eustace that you were making passes and he would kick you out from here and from your office. It would be flashed on the front page of every paper: Married Congressman Made Passes to Wife of His Benefactor.

Now, lunch is served already. You better go and wash yourself, after that long trip.

Elisbeth turned and walked away from the patio.

John Lambers slowly stood up, slowly turned around, and followed Elisbeth.

The first gong sounded, informing everybody that lunch was ready.

The company that gathered in the dining room was not a very cheerful one.

Only Sir Eustace was in high spirit, talking about the villa, the sea, the island. He said he was going to rent a fishing boat and try all the excitement of tuna fishing.

The ladies tried to introduce some topics of traveling across the island on the Dutch side and shopping in the outlets of famous fashion houses. Alejandro suggested renting a car so the ladies could do their chores without inconveniencing the lord of the manor.

Sir Eustace said it was an excellent idea and told Brenton to arrange for a suitable car to be rented. John Lambers tried to demonstrate some interest in the conversation but failed miserably.

After lunch, Sir Eustace suggested the ladies spend time on their own because there was some business he wanted to talk over with John.

The ladies readily agreed.

John Lambers agreed, albeit not very readily.

Nevertheless, the ladies and Alejandro asked Alan to drive them to the marketplace, for the purpose of getting a rental car for Alejandro.

They departed chatting animatedly about the latest Met Gala and the fashion presented there. Alejandro happened to know Anna Wintour, and he supplied the ladies with the latest gossips right from the stables, so their journey was as much entertaining as it was educational.

At the same time, Sir Eustace and John Lambers were sitting on the patio, smoking and talking about the latest bill introduced in the state legislature that would increase property taxes on properties exceeding one million dollars in assessed value.

For Sir Eustace, who owned a sizeable chunk of properties spread all over the state, the tax increase would mean, besides direct monetary losses, a depreciation of property value itself.

Right now, the bill was being considered in a subcommittee on finances where John Lambers was a member. There were three Republicans and five Democrats in the subcommittee. To kill the bill, it would be enough if one of the Democrats would vote with the Republicans.

Sir Eustace knew many members of the legislature and discussed different scenarios that would provide a favorable outcome as he understood it. It would require some work to be done by John, something he was not ready to commit himself to.

Nights passed, and days passed.

The trio, Elisbeth, Cecilia, and Alejandro, was roaming the island. They visited all the famous beaches, including a nudist beach, which required membership for admission. But they got plenty of views from patrons walking to their cars in their birthday suits without any shade of embarrassment, and without any shade of embarrassment on the side of the spectators as well.

They visited the cruise port of Saint Martin on the Dutch side. It impressed them as less illustrious than the port on the French side. In a port pub, they were sitting outdoors, drinking beer and watching the cruise ship to dock and a wave of tourists splashed on the port streets and shops.

They would drive to Simpson Bay and watch planes landing at Princess Juliana Airport. Then the car would take them to