The Mystery of Novak Manor - An Eleanor and Lydia Mystery

Chapter Two

Novak Manor officially served as primary residence to the royal family as well as diplomatic headquarters and national archives. The five-hundred-year-old castle, complete with moat, parade grounds, and fortified stone wall, gave the impression of having sprung up from the earth along with the craggy mountains surround it. At an altitude of nearly sixty-five-hundred feet, winter had already laid waste to fall. The helicopter that had carried Eleanor and her great-granddaughter Lydia from the airport bumped down on a blanket of snow next to a wide cobblestone path. The cacophony of the rotor settled into a silence that left her ears ringing and the second most powerful man in the nation rushed forward to help them out.

Eleanor calculated that Sergey Novak had to be close to seventy years old, but he had, if anything, grown even more fit and handsome than she remembered. His thick silver hair practically sparkled in contrast to his deep tan. How did one get so tan in this northern climate? She pictured him in one of those tiny male swimsuits with a large British flag on his backside and itty bitty bright blue goggles over his eyes, lying on the glass tubes of a tanning bed.

"Eleanor, darling, by your expression I'd think you were a cat who enjoyed a canary as in-flight refreshment. Whatever are you grinning at?" he asked by way of greeting.

She let him kiss her hand. "In life you can laugh or cry. I choose to laugh."

"One of a thousand reasons you're so universally loved." He turned toward Lydia. "And who might this charming creature be?"

Eleanor's great-granddaughter wore head-to-toe black, as always. For this occasion, she'd chosen a Victorian style black wool coat over a stretchy black tee-shirt, form fitting black jeans, black fingerless gloves, and black combat boots that reached to her knees. Thick black make-up lined her dark eyes, and her jet-black hair, teased into a thick, poufy nest and piled atop her head, gave the illusion she carried her own personal storm cloud over her everywhere she went. The only spot of color that shone on the girl was her bright red lipstick, painted on lips currently twisted into an expression that made one believe the prince's question indicated he might be a lunatic.

"Lord Novak, this is my great-granddaughter, Lydia. I've hired her as my personal assistant for the duration of this case," Eleanor explained.

"I am thrilled to make your aquaintance, young lady," Lord Novak said, bending over Lydia's hand.

The girl's gaze flicked to her grandmother and back to the man before her. "Charmed, I'm sure," she said with a curtsy that may or may not have had a mocking edge to it.

Servants were directed to fetch the ladies' luggage. Lord Novak offered Eleanor his arm and she held on tight as she carefully picked her way across the uneven snow-covered surface. She would never be able to bear the humiliation if she came out of retirement and flew across the globe only to slip on the ice and break her brittle old bones.

Lydia traipsed alongside, looking every which way at the storybook scene around them and snapping photographs with her cell phone. When they'd ascended the wide stone steps and entered through the towering arch of the castle's front door her arms fell to her sides and she stared at her surroundings. "People actually live like this?"

Crystal chandeliers dripping with real candle wax hung from the vaulted ceiling. Priceless tapestries covered ancient stone walls. No matter which way one turned, the gaze fell upon a stunning piece of statuary, a beautiful piece of pottery, or a breathtaking oil painting. A runner of thick red carpet cushioned their footfalls.

"There are billions in the world who would enter your own home and ask the same question," Eleanor told her.

"Come," Lord Novak said. "Let us find a comfortable place to discuss our business." He led them into the room Eleanor remembered with great fondness—a cozy library with floor-to-ceiling shelves and a fireplace large enough for three men to stand side-by-side. Four antique wing chairs upholstered in rich velvet and three matched mahogany side tables polished to a mirror shine formed a semi-circle before the great fireplace. A large window, bordered by heavy velvet drapes framed a scene of towering mountains, their tops hidden in the low clouds.