Out For Blood 36

The Brontroses' hallway was almost as big as Brendas appartment and smelt of rosewood and lavender. Three large oil paintings of old men dressed in flamboyant Naval uniforms were hung on the walls and a polished antique Grandfather clock stood like a centry methodically clunking away to one side. The time was 6.48am.

‘Please, allow me to take your coats.’ Said Mason as they entered the hallway.

Mason took Larrys’ Jacket and Brendas’ Mac and hung them on a coat stand by the door. There were three highly polished mahogany doors leading from the hallway into the heart of the house, one on the left, one in front of them and another to their right.

Mason opened the door to their left and took them into a large brightly painted room, two full length windows on the left as they entered faced eastward, if the sky had not been so overcast the sunlight would have brightened the room even more. Again the walls were adorned with oil paintings, this time they were of landscapes, all of them views of the lake below and surrounding hillside before it had been so heavily populated.

A large open fireplace containing a fire that had not long been started but was well underway, dominated the lower part of the far wall in front of you as you entered. The upper half being occupied by a large mirror framed in brass. Two ornimental vases were sat atop the fireplace containing freshly picked Lillies, and a small golden clock sat in the centre.

Running along the middle portion of the right hand wall was a long mahogany table, on this were framed photographs, another vase of lillies and an old-fashioned white Baco-lite telephone. To the left of the table and wrapping itself around the corner of the wall finishing just before the fireplace was a tall set of bookshelves, each shelf stacked solid.

To the right of the long table was a door, and in that corner of the room beside the door stood another Gradfather clock. In the middle of the room sitting on an intricately woven red and gold coloured rug surrounded by two bergundy leather couches and two high-back bergundy leather chairs was a small leather topped table, all these were decorated around their edges with polished brass studs. The ceiling was very high with ornate carvings running around its outer edge and an elaberate chandelier hung from the centre.

‘Miss Brontrose will be down shortly, please take a seat.’ Said Mason.
‘Thank you…’ they said in unison.
‘Can I offer you a beverage while you wait?’
‘Coffee would be good,’ said Larry sitting in one of the chairs.
‘And for you Miss Wise?’
‘Do you have iced tea?’ she asked.
‘Coming right up.’ Replied Mason.

‘Say Mason,’ said Larry pulling a cigarette from its packet. ‘Do you have an ashtray I could use?’
‘Miss Brontrose dislikes the odour of cigarettes Mr Kessler, she would prefer if you could refrain from smoking in the house please.’ Mason gave them both a curtious nod and left through the door at the back of the room.

‘Oooo… “Miss Brontrose dislikes the odour of cigarettes Mr Kessler,’” mimicked Larry.
‘Stop it Larry…’ scolded Brenda.
‘Well it’s only a cigarette for Christ sake,’ he said putting it back into the packet.
‘And some people don’t want their houses reeking of smoke!’
‘Well my place doesn’t reek of cigarettes.'
‘I wouldn’t know Larry, you’ve never invited me in.’ She said scolding him once more.

Larry rolled his eyes then stood up and wandered around the room, he then looked at the photographs on the long table. There were five in all, three of them were black and white photographs the other ones’ were colour.

One of the black and white photographs was of a smiling blond girl around sixteen or seventeen years of age and what might have been her younger sister of about ten or eleven. Stood either side of the girls was an elderly man in his mid-seventies and an elderly woman in a wheelchair around the same age. They were all on a pier at the lake by a small sail boat, the caption attached to the frame read.

“The launching of the Marianna April 1952”

The next black and white photograph was of the same pretty girls who now looked no older than twenty-years of age, and the younger one about sixteen. This time the elderly man who looked much older, possibly in his nineties was in the wheelchair, but the woman from the first photograph was not present. Again it was of a sail boat, this one a lot larger than the last. The caption attached to this frame read.

“The launching of the Marianna II February 1966”

The third and final black and white photograph was one of the Marianna II on the water. There were no captions attached to the frame, and no dates or times.
The colour photographs were of a party being held in the gardens of the house, no recognisable faces just a crowd of people at a distance waving to the camera.

At that moment the Grandfather clock in the corner began to stike, half a second later the clock atop the fireplace chimed also, as did the Grandfather clock in the hall. The time was 7.00am, Mason returned through the door he had left by as the seventh chime died away.

‘Your drinks Sir, Miss,’ he said placing a tray on the table in the middle of the room. ‘Will you be requiring anything else?’

‘Yeah, what about that ash tray I ask you about?’ thought Larry walking over to the table. ‘Mason, those photographs,’ he said pointing. ‘The ones with the young girls and the boats.’
Mason turned to face Larry. ‘I’m sorry Sir, they were taken during my predecessors term of employment, I have only been here a mere five years myself. I really know very little about them.’ At that he bid them good-day and left the room.

Larry went back over to the photographs and called for Brenda to look at them to see what she thought. ‘Tell me Bren, are they the same people?’ he said pointing to each photograph in turn.
Brenda studied them closely. ‘Its sure looks like it, but if it is… I want to know what face cream they’re using.’

‘Do you think the dates could be wrong?’ asked Larry.
‘Doubt that, looks like some pretty important moments, one thing you’d be sure of getting right would be the dates.’

‘Good Morning Mr Kessler,’ said a pleasant clear voice. ‘And you must be Miss Wise.’

Brenda and Larry stood upright and turned from the photographs, Brenda could only stare, and Larry stood with his mouth agape. ‘Miss Brontrose..? Miss… Celia Brontrose?’ he said incredulously.

Celia Brontrose was six-feet tall, and slim. She had glistening golden blond hair, her face looked soft and smooth, she had high cheek-bones and wore a minimum of make-up, which actually made her look younger than she was.

She was dressed in a white pair of sailing pants that stopped at the middle of her calfs, although she never had any intention of going out on the lake, a pale blue V-neck jumper over a white shirt with the collar unbuttoned, and on her feet she wore white plimsols. She certainly did not look eighty-seven-years-old, or anything like Larry or Brenda had expected. They greeted each other and shook hands.

‘Please call me Celia, only Mason is allowed to call me Miss Brontrose, and that’s because he insists on doing so. Please sit, both of you.’ She said.

They all sat, Larry in a high-back leather chair, Brenda and Celia sat on the couches, each facing the other. Larry wanted to keep this interview formal, he would stick to calling her Miss Brontrose. Brenda would sit back and take mental notes, then intervene if she thought Larry had missed something important.

‘Well Mr Kessler, what is it that I can do for you?’ said Celia.
‘Psychic my ass.’ Thought Larry, but he needed to make sure.‘Firstly Miss Brontrose, Mason said you had been expecting us, how could that be?’

‘I told Mr Pierroni to call me regardless of whether or not he had found what he was looking for. As of this moment he hasn’t, which means he has either lost my number, or he has found himself in some kind of trouble. I suspect the latter would be closer the mark Mr Kessler. The next logical step would be for his partner to arrive on my doorstep asking questions. Hence… you!’

Larry accepted this and at the same time realised Celia brontrose would probably match his wits easily, he would have to tread with care. He leant in towards the table. ‘Miss Brontrose, you gave some information to my partner, whom I might add we too haven’t heard from since. I’d like to know exactly what you told him, and… how you came by the information of the missing girls in the first place?’

‘I told Mr Pierroni I had a premonition; although that wasn’t entirely accurate… it was all he needed to know at that time.’
‘Well humour me Miss Brontrose, this… premonition, what exactly did you tell Mr Pierroni?’
‘I told him the name of the town and a possible location of where he might find the girls.’

‘And that town is?’
‘Martinsville. It’s a small place Mr Kessler, about two hours south west of here by car.’
‘And the names of the kidnappers Miss Brontrose, do you know who they are?

Celia shifted in her seat. ‘That is a more difficult question to answer Mr Kessler, but before I do answer it, I have something you need to see.’ She got up without another word and walked over to the book shelf in the corner; from which she retrieved a green book, she returned and placed it on the table in front of them. On the front cover were written the words,

‘Thomas Martins’
‘Trials and Experiments in Longevity’

‘This Journal was given to me by my brother Mr Kessler, after that I never saw him again.’ Explained Celia.

Larry picked up the Journal and began flicking through it while Celia unravelled the truth of her past to them both. As its contents soon lost him, Larry put it down and just listened to what Celia Brontrose had to say...