Read Online BLACKDOWN (a thriller and murder mystery) by D. M. Mitchell - Free Book Online Page B

on pedestals. But it had a colder, dead feel to it. He noticed at once the thin film of cobwebs and dust covering everything. ‘Where is everyone?’ Blackdown asked, thinking that at one time such a thing as letting the dust gather would never have been allowed to happen.
    ‘There are but five of us now, Master Thomas.’ He followed Blackdown’s eyes to a dirty, grey looking Grecian bust. ‘We try our best, but Blackdown Manor is a sprawling, many-roomed affair, as you know, and my old bones are not what they once were…’
    ‘No matter, Mr Addison,’ he said, seeing how the old man looked embarrassed at the lack of cleaning.
    ‘Shall I take your coat, sir?’ Thomas Blackdown shrugged off the knapsack and let Addison help him off with his greatcoat. Addison regarded the begrimed red uniform beneath. ‘Master Jonathan told me of your exploits in the army, though it was against your father’s express wishes to discuss you or your whereabouts.’ He put the coat over his arm and tried to lift the knapsack but the weight defied his aged body. ‘You look in robust health, sir,’ he said, smiling. ‘I am glad to see you home from the war safe and well. Master Jonathan would have been so…’ He trailed off and cleared his throat. ‘I will need to tell your father you are here.’
    Blackdown nodded. ‘I did not know Jonathan had been killed.’
    The old man’s watery eyes blinked slowly. ‘It was a tragedy, sir, I cannot deny that. As it was when you left the house all those years ago. The house lost something of its warmth with your departure, if you don’t mind me saying, sir?’
    ‘You were always good to me, Mr Addison, something I have never forgotten. Almost like a father to me.’
    He looked embarrassed again. ‘That is very kind of you to say so, Master Thomas.’
    ‘Where is he?’
    ‘In the drawing room.’
    ‘I have heard he is ill…’
    ‘He is not well, Master Thomas, but he has been through so much lately that it is little wonder his health has suffered so. He has taken to spending much time with his lawyer…’ he began falteringly. ‘Cornelius Reeve. A singular man.’
    ‘You do not approve of him, I take it?’
    Addison looked horrified. ‘It is not my place, sir! I am your father’s servant. I shall announce your presence,’ he said, leaving the knapsack on the floor and taking the coat with him.
     
     
    ‘Lord Blackdown,’ said Addison quietly, ‘you have a visitor.’
    The man sitting in his chair, facing the window that looked out onto the dead and choked gardens beyond, didn’t appear to hear at first, as if locked into a room filled with his own private thoughts. ‘Huh?’ he said, hardly moving his head. ‘A visitor, you say?’ He scratched vaguely at a gold button on his black coat with a scrawny, shaky finger. ‘I’m not expecting visitors…’
    ‘I come unannounced,’ said Thomas Blackdown. He’d followed Addison, and the old servant turned around, surprised to see him standing behind him at the door.
    Lord Erasmus Blackdown’s face paled, his lower lip trembling ever so slightly. ‘My son Jonathan?’ he said feebly. ‘My son returned?’ He spun round in his chair, the blanket that covered his white-breeched legs falling to the rug. His eyes looked uncomprehendingly at Thomas.
    ‘It’s me, father. It’s your son, Thomas,’ he said stiffly.
    ‘Thomas!’ said the old man, trying to rise from his chair. Addison dashed forward, bent to retrieve the blanket and place it over his master’s legs. Erasmus Blackdown pushed him away. ‘Thomas! I have no son called Thomas! What is he doing here, Addison?’ he roared.
    ‘I forced my way in,’ said Thomas, glancing at Addison’s alarmed expression.
    ‘Then you can force your way back out again!’ his father fired. ‘Get out of my sight!’
    ‘Leave us alone, Mr Addison,’ Thomas ordered. The old man hesitated and Thomas nodded at the door.
    ‘You do not order my servant around! Stay where you are,