Lessons in Solving the Wrong Problem - Charlie Cochrane Page 0,31
be able to miss the smug look that would be plastered over the man’s face every time he saw us. Anyway, as he pointed out, we took Herron to the place and the hoard was no longer there. How would he know where to find it if we couldn’t? Ah, here’s the place.”
The stones used to repair the corner certainly appeared to be similar to those at the chapel, although if it were a local type of rock that might not be surprising. The fact they appeared to be have been dressed, as opposed to the original rough stones that made up the rest of the wall, definitely spoke of re-use, though. Jonty was about to offer that opinion when the front door of the house opened and a tall, dark-haired, bespectacled man emerged.
“Atherton!” Henry said, with a wave. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”
“It is indeed, Lord Henry.” The man came down the path to shake their hands, as his lordship effected the introductions.
“This is Dr Jonty Stewart, whom we’re consulting on the business of that old treasure trove and what happened to it. We were just looking at your wall.”
“The famous stolen masonry?” Atherton appeared unperturbed at the implication his uncle had been less than honest about the situation. “My uncle was a bit of a rogue, Dr Stewart and there wasn’t much love lost between us.”
“Might I then ask why, in the circumstances, he left this house to you? Feel free not to answer, although I don’t ask out of nosiness. It’s part of trying to find out about the treasure.” Jonty flashed what he’d been often told was a winning smile.
“I’m happy to help. He didn’t leave me the house. That went to my mother and she let me live here until it came to me outright through her will.” Atherton made an expansive gesture, taking in his small but neat grounds. “Nice and convenient for a country doctor.”
“Indeed. Now, the next thing I have to ask is rather more intrusive. Is it possible your uncle, when he’d seen the field in which the hoard was found, returned there and removed it? Perhaps for safekeeping, given how bad the weather was and the risk of further landslips?” Better to ascribe a noble motive than imply he’d been a thief.
Jonty needn’t have bothered, because Atherton answered his questions with a knowing grin. “Is that a polite was of asking if he stole it, like he stole the stones for the wall? You’re not alone in having considered the idea, but if he did lay his hands on Roman gold or silver, I’ve not seen hide nor hair of it. My son and I have searched this house from top to bottom.”
“Yes, we have and a great challenge it was, too.” A smaller version of Atherton—perhaps the boy treble, given his age—emerged from the house. His father introduced him to Jonty, who was greeted with a solemn handshake.
“I didn’t know you’d had your suspicions,” Henry said. “I don’t suppose you’ve turned anything up?”
“Nothing. We even looked for concealed hiding places, didn’t we, Gerry?”
“Yes, father. We took it very seriously, your lordship. We measured all the rooms and drew up a plan to see if there were any discrepancies among the internal measurements, although we could find none. The floors downstairs are solid and there was nothing under the upstairs floorboards.”
Jonty supressed a smile. He could imagine Orlando being similarly earnest when the boy’s age and equally eager to set about measuring and calculating. “Could he have sold off his ill-gotten gains?”
“That’s a distinct possibility,” Atherton confirmed, “because he appeared to have left my sister more money than she believes he could have legitimately earned through his employment.”
“He might have been a shrewd—or lucky—investor,” Henry pointed out.
“He could, but there was apparently no evidence of that when he died.”
“We call it Uncle Osment’s mysterious nest egg.” Gerry broke into a smile. “Mother says it defies all explanation.”
“Then perhaps Dr Stewart and his colleague will be able to shed light on the matter.” Henry clearly had more confidence in their powers than Jonty felt, although—seen in the light of Beatrice’s note—those words might hide a different meaning.
“We’ll do all we can, I promise.”
They made their goodbyes, interspersed with some discussion of what the anthems would be at the next day’s service, then Jonty and his host strolled back towards the car.
“What one might describe as a turn-up for the books,” Henry observed. “Not that Herron having a mysterious source of income means