Lessons in Solving the Wrong Problem - Charlie Cochrane Page 0,21

went about their tour. The fleeting look of distress had been covered up by a hearty, “That’s where we boys used to keep all the little objects we picked up.”

“We don’t need to see it, if it will cause anguish,” Jonty said.

“No, these items are the only concrete proof that any of this happened. I can’t ask you to solve a puzzle for me then only give you half the clues. Ah, thank you!” Henry smiled kindly as his wife re-entered the room bearing a box, which she put into Orlando’s hands, which was perhaps another unsubtle reinforcement of which of he and Jonty was their hostess’s preference.

Orlando had thought when he’d first seen the object that the colour of the wood would go very nicely in his study at home, which a second viewing confirmed. He nodded his thanks, then opened the box, studying the contents without touching them.

“Please, take them out if you wish,” Henry said.

“No, it’s enough to see them.” Orlando passed the box to Jonty, who peered inside at the eclectic selection of items cushioned against bronze-coloured silk. The brooch and coin took pride of place but there were also other examples of the sort of treasure little boys like. An unusual pebble with a hole through it, a piece of what looked like sea-smooth glass, a striking bird’s feather and other delights. Interesting enough, although Orlando wasn’t sure what had been achieved by examining the finds, apart from confirming that the Roman artefacts existed.

Time to get down to facts. Jonty was evidently of the same opinion, as he asked, “Was Mary who fell asleep the same maid from whom Edward slipped away, the day of his accident?”

“Ah, I see where your thoughts are leading. Had she fallen asleep again on the day of his accident?” Henry, who’d taken the box back, cradled it gently on his lap. “No, it wasn’t the same woman. My mother had Mary swiftly moved on to another position, with the barest of references, believing that we’d had a narrow escape. Anything could have happened to Edward while she was showing such a dereliction of her duty, a dereliction for which she showed little remorse. Her replacement, Matilda, was much more reliable. Of exemplary character, with an excellent record and a woman about whom I never heard a bad word from anyone. She only came to us because her employers were moving out to India and she had no wish to go. Matilda was heartbroken at Edward’s death, blaming herself for losing him when he ran off.”

“She’d have tried to find him?” Jonty had begun to take notes again.

“Of course, although she went off in the wrong direction. Said she was sure she’d seen Edward heading off to the summer house, which was among his favourite haunts. But she’d clearly been mistaken. The gardener’s lad had been helping his father in the grounds that day and the feeling was she probably glimpsed him.”

Orlando pursed his lips in thought: this was much more interesting than buried—or unburied—treasure. “What happened to Matilda?”

She stopped working in nurseries, despite the fact that none of us blamed her and mother would have given her a reference. Matilda couldn’t face the prospect of tending another child, she said. She had a beau, and took this as the chance to marry him. She used to send a card every Christmas, although that stopped when mother died. Where she is now and whether she is still alive, I could not say.”

“You might find it useful to talk to the one who was so slack in her duties.” Beatrice suggested.

“Yes, thank you.” Orlando didn’t feel too confident that she’d have much to add, but it would be a start. He also fought back the slight annoyance at being taught his detecting trade by someone lacking experience of it.

“I’ll ask if anyone below stairs keeps in contact with her,” his hostess offered.

“Thank you, my dear, although I’m not optimistic. She wasn’t too popular among the other servants.” Henry pulled a face. “Had a wastrel of a brother who once turned up here, the night before my father had his accident, wanting money. Had to be slung out by his ear. Not the thing at all.”

The conversation reached a pause, their host having clearly imparted everything he wished to say.

When he could evidently stand the silence no longer, Jonty asked, “So, what is it you want us to do? Find the treasure trove itself? That may be beyond both our powers and