Brotherly Love

Hello, and welcome to my 2025 Blogging From A To Z April Challenge! This year, I’ve written you a complete murder mystery novelette. The setting is rural England, a few years after WWI. The extra challenge that I set myself for this story is that the first murder will not take place until the letter “M”–halfway through! And the second murder will happen at “S.” There may be murders after “S,” of course, but they are less structural or foundational or something.

And now, without further ado…

Brotherly Love

Sir Franklyn Grimsby was in his study, trying not to listen for sounds of arrival. They would come when they came. He wished, however, that he had something really engrossing to do. Was that them now? No.

There were always accounts and farm reports, of course—but Frank looked at them, sighed, and resumed staring at the study door. A good detective story was what he needed. He never noticed anything when he was reading one of those. People complained of it. Big family joke. But it was true. Unfortunately, he’d finished his latest one last night—and he could never take an interest in re-reading the things. He kept the good ones around, though, so that if his memory started to go, like poor Lottie’s, he’d have at least one thing to look forward to.

Of course Frank wanted to see old Jack. He kept telling himself this. “It will be very nice to see old Jack” had become, over the past week or so, his constant refrain. He muttered it under his breath when he couldn’t sleep, and thought it loudly at himself when consumed by nagging doubts.

Because, Frank meant to say, why was Jack visiting? Just nostalgia, was it, or—but he wouldn’t—surely!—cut his family off with the proverbial shilling, in favor of this Penelope girl.

Frank thought of Penelope, trying to think of her as a person he was also excited to see—his niece—dear old Jack’s girl!

It didn’t work. Penelope was a stranger to him, and a stranger who was certainly going to cost Frank money. Not that that was the right way to look at it—it was Jack’s pile, made by Jack without any help from the family beyond an initial loan, and it was Jack’s to dispose of however he chose. Still—there it was—if Jack didn’t come through with something substantial in the inheritance line, this place was finished. Frank might as well burn it down on his way out. So it was hard to think of Penelope as anything but an unnecessary complication. It’d be different if he’d known the young pest as a child. But it is hard to develop any real affection for a girl you’ve only seen in a grainy photograph, especially when that girl is going to lose you a packet. Why, Frank didn’t even know what color hair the little beast had—not that she was so little—twenty-one this month. Still—

“It will be lovely to meet Jack’s daughter Penelope.”

Frank noticed that he said it through gritted teeth.

*

Finally, the knock.

“Mr. Jack Grimsby,” announced Sneakfork.

And there he was. Jack. With deep lines in his face, and white fluffy hair sprouting from all over his head , but—

“Jack,” said Frank, with emotion.

“Frank,” said Jack. “Hi!” he added, as an afterthought.

The door opened.

“Jack. It’s been a long time,” said Gertrude Sterling. Gertrude was Lottie’s older sister, and had been the fourth person in the Frank-Lottie-Jack trio when they were all children. She held her arms out in welcome now.

Jack looked unsure who he was looking at for a split second, and then tumbled to it. “Gert! Hi!” he said, and grabbed an outstretched hand and shook it vigorously. “Nice to see you again.”

Gertie smiled. “I don’t mean to intrude. I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about–” (one thing, thought Frank, and I can’t say it) “—but I thought I’d better just prepare you for when you meet Lottie.”

“Dash it all, Gertie!” said Frank. “Lottie’s vague, but not—not someone you need to be warned about before meeting.”

Gertrude looked at Frank with pity. “You have to remember, Frank dear, that Jack once…” And she turned on her heels and left the room.

Frank looked at Jack ruefully. “Gert’s awfully protective of her sister,” he said.

“I don’t remember her being protective of Lottie, back in the day,” said Jack. “They always kinda got on each other’s nerves.”

Frank shuffled awkwardly. There was a dashed lot of history that Jack just didn’t know about; thinking of talking through it all made him feel horribly tired. Still, he had to say something. “It came out more after you left. When Lottie was first—ah—with child.” And Frank looked apologetically at his brother. “I say, this is frightfully—and I know you rather—I mean to say…” and Frank trailed off.

Jack looked surprised. “Don’t worry–all that’s over and done with. I want to know, though. Tell me what you were gonna tell me. About Lottie and Gert. I’m interested.”

“Lottie’s first time was difficult. The doctor said everything was perfectly fine, but she seemed nervy and anxious. Not like herself at all. Didn’t like it. And then Gertie took her sister in hand. They got this idea of going to Scotland into their heads. They argued that all Lottie really needed was peace and quiet, and they’d heard of a spot in a remote village which sounded ideal.”

Jack nodded. “Yeah, sometimes the last thing a woman wants when she’s going through it is a man around. I bet if Sadie could’ve packed me off when she was having Penny, she’d have done it.”

“I see that now, of course. But at the time, I was against it. Didn’t like to think of those three women–Lottie’s maid Hettie went with them–practically alone out there—but Lottie insisted. And I admit it worked. They left in the fall, came back in the spring in blooming health, and with Reggie, who was the most robust infant I’ve ever seen. Anyway, ever since then, Lottie and Gertie have been close. Funny thing. Didn’t like the idea of her livin’ with us before that, but as things turned out, I’m dashed grateful that she was around. Feel I owe her a lot for what she did.” As Frank finished this explanation, he felt a sense of panic. He’d exhausted Gertie and Lottie’s early years, and he had no idea what topic could reasonably follow it. Then he had a brilliant notion.

“Let’s have a drink,” said Frank.

“Sounds fine,” said Jack.