The Blackwood Mystery: A Closed Book?

A cool breeze flicked her auburn hair back and gave her respite from the unrelenting summer heat as she gazed out on to the lake, staring. At what, she could not say. The death of her father was shocking and yet the tears just would not come when she attended his funeral that morning. Her father, Baron Blackwood, had reportedly overdosed on medication. She never got a chance to get to know her mother since she died shortly after giving birth to her brother. The only family she had left were her older and younger brothers, Andrew and Edward, respectively. She felt numb. But why? She wondered. The Blackwood family was old money, very old money. So old that the family had forgotten what made them rich in the first place. She was never particularly close with her father, he was always working on his next project, his next book, his next investment. It was a rarity to even share a meal with him. Baron was a pharmacologist and Caroline was a progressive psychologist. Everything in their waking moments was dedicated to their craft and expanding the wealth of their family. Wealth that she did not see much of. After turning 18, it was her father’s belief that she and her brothers should earn money on their own, hoping they would build a sense of appreciation for it. She could not say what became of her father, all that time after she had left. Apparently, he never once left that old manor, and it became his tomb. Andrew told her that the proud fire that once burned in his eyes was swiftly extinguished the night her mother had passed. And as if this weren’t enough, she had received a letter earlier that week inviting her to come to the manor. “Ms. Claire Blackwood, after the funeral concludes please come to the Blackwood Manor for the reading of your fathers will.” It was even stamped with the family's crest, an owl with black pines surrounding it. Her mind began to think about what could have been; if her mother were still alive and if she had been there for her father. But she had been thinking all day, and she was tired of thinking. Think too much and you'll get stuck in the past. Claire realized. She took one last look at her reflection in the water and started making her way to the manor.

The manor was built on the side of a mountain and situated in the middle of a pine forest. She remembered the way there well enough even though it had been well over a decade since she took this road. The pines only got taller the deeper she went. She passed an owl that turned its head 180 degrees to continuously stare at her as an indescribable feeling came over her. You’re just a little nervous, that’s all. When it finally came into view Claire had never felt so anxious. The large tri story wonder loomed over her, painted in a dark ash charcoal that matched the bark of the trees on its perimeter. The balcony held up by slightly weathered stone pillars overlooked a courtyard decorated with sculptures, plant and stone alike, as well as a grand spring fountain in the center. A steel gate greeted her with a faded sign reading THE BLACKWOOD ESTATE. Something seems off. Claire pondered. The manor was well kept as it always had been hedges were even, trees were trimmed, and walkways were level. And yet somehow it lacked the gleam of prosperity it once proudly displayed. As she was making her way to the main double door, she spotted what had to be the groundskeeper shoving something into a shed. She was too far away to tell exactly, and she did not recognize him either. As she was fiddling with the keys the door suddenly opened. “Claire!? Is that really you my dear? Please, come inside.” The man standing before her was Gideon Grieves, the family butler. He led her into the living room and noticed that her brothers were already here. Her older brother Andrew was noticeably jittery, tapping his feet in rapid succession. The stares they gave her as she sat were word enough that they have been waiting on her for a while. The lawyer had it in his hands stating, “Now we may begin.” And so, they proceeded. In her father’s will she obtained 20,000 dollars, a modest sum in comparison to her brothers' portions, but to her surprise there was something else as well. “And to my dearest daughter, Claire Blackwood herein lies the deed to Blackwood Manor. Its estate and all its assets are now under your ownership. I know that nothing I could give you would make up for the loss of time we never got to share. I hope someday you will find it in your heart to forgive me. You remind me so much of her. Your father, Baron Blackwood.” Claire did not know which seemed less likely, acquiring the manor or the heartwarming message left by her father. It was all to surreal for her to handle at first. The room was quiet.

“What a pile of rubbish.” Andrew spat out sullenly. “Don't be fooled Claire, he only gave it to you to spite me. Give it to me instead, you know you don’t-”

“Behave yourself Andrew.” The butler cut in. “Although I must agree Claire that the responsibility of this Manor is not a light one. It's become a rather dreary place as of late, isolated and foreboding.”

“It wouldn’t be very sisterly of you to deny me what’s rightfully mine.” Andrew added.

“Such a shame it wasn't written that way in the will brother. Give it a rest already.” Edward interjected.

They all looked at her with anticipation, waiting to hear what she would say. Too many voices. Claire thought when suddenly BANG. The crack of lightning rattled the walls and their ears alike.

“Oh my.” Grieves gasped, peaking out the window curtains. “There’s a dastardly storm out there and it's growing late besides. It’d be best for you all to stay the night.”

“Not me” Edward insisted, making his way to the door. “I’ve got an important meeting tomorrow and I'm not trying to get stuck in this old heap.” Leaving no room for argument he closed the door behind him and left.

“I’ll be taking my leave as well.” The lawyer stated, leaving just the 3 of them.

“I will make you both some tea.” Declared Greives. “Your rooms should be ready; I trust you both still know the way.” He disappeared into the doorway behind him. Andrew gave Claire a disparaging look that cut deep into her soul as he made his way up the velvet bifurcated stairway. I'm sure he’ll get over it. She took a long look at her family's portraits mainly her father’s. It seemed to be staring back. Feeling a bit spooked she headed to bed, herself. Her bedroom was modestly designed and plainly furnished as it always had been. She plopped down on the bed and noticed a small black notebook on top of her nightstand. I don’t remember ever having that. She reached for it. It appeared to be a journal of some kind. It was entitled Blackwood’s Secrets. Before she could open it, the book was swiftly snatched from her grasp. She looked to see Grieves looming above her.

“Don’t concern yourself with this.” He slipped the little book in his pocket. “This place is full of little trinkets and mysterious items.” The tea was already placed on her nightstand.

How long has he been in here? “Do you know anything more about how Dad died?” Claire asked.

“No more than you, I’m afraid.” He paused before saying “A man who studied medicine, died by its hand. How ironic.”

“What?”

“I think its best you got some sleep dear.” He turned and left the room before she could say anything else. What did he mean by that? She held the cup in both hands. Everyone had been acting off. Edward’s sudden eagerness to leave and Andrew’s overly aggressive attitude towards her were cause for concern on their own, but what had troubled her most was her butler’s strange behavior. Without taking a sip, she put the cup back down and turned off the light. It had been a long day and she was more tired than she realized when her head hit the pillow. She tried thinking of everything that had happened, piecing it all together. There’s more to my father’s death and this manor then any of them care to let on Claire concluded. And I intend to find out. With that final thought she was fast asleep.