NOTE: For old time readers! I changed the female servant's name from Bertha to Rose. Happy reading!
⠀•°•°•°
⠀
⠀
⠀
SAMUEL TOWNSEND KILLS HIMSELF
June 24, 1927
Black elite, 65-year-old Samuel Townsend was found dead in his mansion at his hometown in Nigeria. Townsend was said to be struggling with his issues with alcohol, prior to his death.
His daughter, Betty Louise Townsend-Welch, refuses to give any information nor speak about how she is feeling about this horrific incident. Her publicist speaks on behalf of her: "She is going through a tough time at the moment. She'd like to be left alone."
❦
June 22, 1927
Early into the summer, Betty was summoned by her father to their hometown in Nigeria. She and her husband flew to Africa to take care of some parts of the Townsend business. Meanwhile, their daughter was left at their home in New York, for the teenager had school projects to accomplish.
Although, as Betty arrived to Nigeria and faced her father, he was showed his disappointment when he was told that his granddaughter wasn't brought along. He wanted to see how much his little princess has grown over the full year he was away. He had flown to his hometown after announcing his break from his businesses in America to tend to his businesses in Africa.
Betty's daughter, Alicia Louise, undoubtedly loved the company of her grandfather. He would always bring her to carnivals, even at his age when he could not ride every ride anymore. He also brought her to plays even when he would probably end up explaining the story after all.
Betty's husband had then convinced her to consider having their twelve-year-old daughter spend a quick vacation at the mansion for the poor old man's sake and sanity. Betty had also thought that it would be, indeed, delightful for her daughter to finally visit the mansion. And so she had decided to fly back to America to fetch her daughter. They couldn't resist being overprotective of their only child, especially since the money their family had aquired also came with enemies and maniacs.
She thought her father and husband would work just well together. She reminisced on when her father welcomed Anthony into the family––he being of white complexion––but her father's understanding of love was enough not to rebuke his daughter for it. She felt even more in love with her then-fiancé, that she couldn't remove the picture of an additional branch in the family tree from her mind.
❦
June 23, 1927
When Betty had arrived back to New York she wasted no time to tell her daughter that she was coming to Africa that instant. As Alicia was packing her raiments, she did not fail to express her enthusiasm and this filled Betty with joy. That was until their maid had interrupted them.
"Madam, this is urgent," the maid spoke by the door and Betty told her to proceed. "I have devastating news for you, Madam," the petite lady said with an anxious look on her face.
"What is it?" Betty stood from her seat, anticipation clear.
"Your father... something horrible has happened to your father, Madam," the maid choked out.
Alicia replied instead of her mother. "What are you on about, Cecile?" she shouted. "I am preparing for a visit to my dearest grandfather!"
"Unfortunately, I am not fooling around. Please, madam, listen to the radio broadcast if you will."
Betty hurried into the living room and paid attention to the news on the radio. She brought her shaking hands to cover her mouth as she listened.
"... Looks like Samuel Townsend, a well-known black elite, will not be coming back, folks. The man allegedly took a bullet to the head!"
Betty's hands dropped as did her heart, and her ears muffled every sound, including her daughter's shriek. Her breathing became rapid but she soon slowly regained her senses.
"Madam?" The maid handed her mistress a glass of water. Betty hadn't even noticed that her maid had momentarily gone away. She took the glass and drank from it, droplets of water escaped from her lips.
"The man died at 65 years old and by his own hands... "
After the loss of a mother and wife in the family, Samuel Townsend did not resort to abandoning or neglecting his daughter in any way. He remained strong as everyone perceived him to be... yet how could he have done this? What for? It was foreign for the kind of man he was.
"Mother! What is happening?" Alicia was in tears as her maid held her by the settee.
Betty was speechless but a tear finally escaped her eye as she placed the empty glass of water on the side table. She felt a weight where her heart used to be.
"Alicia, resume your preparation to the mansion, we have to go immediately," Betty was able to utter as the tears slowly flowed.
Their maid assisted Alicia as she continued sobbing.
Betty then strode into her bedroom, a blank expression on her tear-stained face. But as she shut the door behind her, her mouth quivered and she no longer held back contorting her face. She slid to the floor and sobbed into her arms, she kicked the foot of her dresser in devastation. She just couldn't put together as to why her father would do such a thing.
⠀
When the still stricken mother and daughter arrived to Nigeria, they quickly advanced to the mansion where they were met by policemen. Betty demanded to be let through and they gladly obliged.
They were welcomed by their lackey and as Betty stepped on the marbled mansion floor, the home somewhat felt foreign, it was like an unholy, unacceptable event had taken place in it and it was no longer what it was before; the place where Samuel Townsend had decided to make history and contribute to change the norms for a black man and his family... was all it used to be. Then it was just the place where Samuel Townsend had taken his own life.
Their old housekeeper approached them and offered her condolences for the untimely loss. Betty nodded back and her daughter remained moping by her side.
"Where is my husband?" Betty pressed.
"He must arrive any moment now from the hotel, madam," the ageing lady, lowly answered. "He informed me last night that he will be here around this time," she explained.
"Why had he stayed at a hotel?" Betty questioned as she quickly observed the wooden sofa and sat down on the smooth, strong, hard wood.
"He said he was feeling uneasy in the mansion, madam."
"Well, all right, please give my daughter Alicia a room to stay," Betty kindly ordered but her daughter objected.
"I don't want to be alone, mother!" Which reminded Betty that this was Alicia's first time at the mansion. What a way to introduce a home, she pathetically thought.
"Our housekeeper, Rose," she introduced as Rose nodded at Alicia. "She will keep you company because I... I may be busy,"
Alicia looked at the housekeeper with pursed lips but strode along.
Betty hadn't realised that she'd been holding her breath. She exhaled and rubbed the nape of her neck. She shook her head to herself and proceeded to tell a servant to bring her and to the infirmary immediately.
She witnessed the ton of gossipmongers being shooed away by the guards right outside their gates. They must have thought that Betty Townsend knew with clarity and no doubts why her father had commited suicide but little did they know that she was just as clueless as they were.
When she arrived at hospital, she proceeded to the mortuary to face what she had been dreading for. Her father's cold, dead body was then presented right before her eyes. She blinked rapidly as she felt the tears forming. One hand clasped her mouth to stop the yelp about to come out whilst the other gripped the rib on opposite side of her torso.
It was, indeed, him––Samuel Townsend, her dear father. Bloodless, still, and lifeless. A hole visible on his temple.
"I... I have to-- Please, excuse me," Betty croaked out and quickly exited before any of the pathologists had the chance to talk about their findings.
She stayed by the seats in the quiet hall to compose herself. Though in no time, someone emerged from the morgue and approached her.
"Madam, would you rather like to talk here?" he politely asked and Betty nodded in response. still avoiding his glance. "I am Ernest Ferry and I am the coroner," he introduced himself and held a hand out.
Betty looked at him through her wet lashes and shook his hand and introduced herself, as well. "I'm sorry for storming out, sir... I am just completely appalled," she explained.
"I will start this by saying that, your father's death is indeed self-inflicted," he straightforwardly said and Betty looked away.
"Have you looked into it enough? Nothing was amiss about the crime scene, at all?" Betty pestered the coroner.
He was about to reply when her husband bursted from the corner and interrupted the scene.
"Betty!" her husband exclaimed as Betty went over to him for an embrace.
He held her tight but only she closed her eyes. "Where have you been, Anthony?" she whispered against his shoulder.
"I rised from bed a little too late. I'm sorry, my darling," he apologised.
"How is our daughter?" She withdrew from their embrace.
"She cried to me this morning..."
Betty bowed and wrapped her arms around herself. She faced the coroner and spoke. "I think you should leave, sir, I am not to be convinced that my father's case is a suicide." Just like that, Betty dismissed him.
"Well, all right then." His lips flattened in defeat. He bowed and then went his way back into the morgue.
"We must go to the detectives now, Anthony," Betty announced. "Please tell me, in the carriage, everything that has happened when I was absent."
In the carriage, Anthony stated that he was interviewed for he was in the mansion at the time of the incident.
"Why hadn't you accompanied him? Had anyone possibly broken into the house? How about the workers present, they could be suspects, as well." Betty inquired without a pause.
"Betty, what do you mean by that?" He clasped his hands together and rested them on his thighs.
"I mean that no one is an exception, Anthony. We are all capable of murder."
"And the old woman?" Anthony suggested with a hint of doubt.
"The housekeeper could not merely handle a flare gun. I've known that all my life. Besides, she must be showing signs of trauma if she's ever fired a gun, yet there aren't any signs."
"Right."
"Why? Has she shown uncanny behaviour to you after... the incident?"
"I don't think so."
Betty nodded at him. "You shall be dropped at the mansion. Please keep our daughter safe, anyone could be a suspect now," she declared and took a deep breath.
"You really think there is foul play?"
"I'm willing to induce it as a fact. Anyway, we must question every single worker. That includes you, mister," she gestured to their driver who glimpsed at the rear view mirror for a quick second.
"Betty, don't intimidate. Have you lost your manners?" her husband advised. She gazed outside the window in thought.
She thought that her father could have not killed himself for business or money related issues; she handled parts of the business and hadn't noticed anything awry with the recorded transactions and dealings. He wouldn't have done it for family issues, either; there wasn't a family conflict that didn't have a simple solution. Perhaps, with the exception of the loss of a wife and mother. But see, even that they came through together in one piece.
She wasn't actually too sure yet, whether it was a murder. But she was at least hoping to arrive there.
⠀•°•°•°
pls vote and comment if you liked it :--)