Once upon a time Lily and Robert were the pampered offspring of a rich New York family. But the crash of ’29 left them virtually penniless until a distant relative offered them a Grace and Favor house on the Hudson.
The catch is they must live at this house for ten years and not return to their beloved Manhattan. In the Still of the Night Lily and Robert invite paying guests from the city to stay with them for a cultural weekend. But then something goes wildly askew.
by Jill Churchill
I REALIZED THAT MRS. ETHRIDGE WASN’T AT BREAKFAST AND she hasn’t come to lunch either. I kept an eye out for her so I could nip in and tidy her room while she was out and about and she hasn’t been.”
“She’s not in the dining room?” Lily said. “No, I guess not. There were two empty chairs.”
“She might be sick, miss.”
“Have you knocked on her door?”
“A couple times, miss.”
“I’ll go see what’s become of her,” Lily said.
Robert, who had been ringing up the operator, hung up the phone. “I think it would be better for me to check on her.”
“But Robert . . .” Lily saw his serious expression and paused. “Very well. But I’ll come with you.”
They went up to the second floor and Robert tapped lightly on the door. “Mrs. Ethridge? Are you all right?” When there was no response, he tapped more firmly and repeated himself loudly.
They stood there, brother and sister, remembering another incident last fall, and staring at each other. “I’ll look. You stay out here,” Robert said.
He opened the door and almost immediately closed it in Lily’s face. She heard the snick of the inside lock. There was complete silence for a long moment, then Robert unlocked and reopened the door. “Lily, she’s dead.”
Lily gasped. “Are you sure?”
“Quite sure.”
“Oh, why did she have to die here?” Lily said, then caught herself. “What a selfish thing to say. I’m sorry.”
“No need to be. I thought the same thing. It’s not as if she’s a good friend, or even someone we willingly invited.”
“What do we do now?”
“You go back to the dining room and act like nothing’s wrong while I call the police and the coroner.”
“The police? Why the police?”
“I think you have to call them for an unexplained death. Besides, if we don’t, what do we do with her? Somebody has to take her away to be buried.”