Lessons in Solving the Wrong Problem - Charlie Cochrane Page 0,46
asked, pen poised to take notes. “We know his father’s death upset him greatly.”
“Not worried, exactly. That something was occupying his mind might be the best way to put it. He kept asking when he’d see his father again and, while I feel disloyal saying this, I confess that the family didn’t really tackle the question.” Another dab with her hankie. “Now, I don’t believe in lying to children. Better to find a way to tell them the truth but it wasn’t my place to say anything. I simply said he must ask his mother.”
“Might his mother have told him that his father was with Jesus and that they’d all meet up again one day?”
“I believe that’s along the lines of what she did tell him, Dr Stewart, although not until a long time after the accident.”
Jonty finished his sausage roll, went to lick his fingers, apologised for his lack of manners and extracted a promise from Mrs Cadmore not to report him to his mother. His boyish behaviour clearly created a favourable impression, as did his following words. “You strike me as a woman of good sense, who would notice things. Did anything happen that struck you as suspicious during the time you were at Greysands?”
Her brows knitted in thought. “Once or twice Edward did or said things which struck me as odd. He was a particularly intense little boy, not like other children, so it may simply have been his nature. He hated the old ruined chapel, because he said he’d seen himself there.”
Jonty glanced at Orlando, who returned the puzzled look and said, “You’ll have to explain, I’m afraid.”
“I don’t think I can. He said Don’t take me there, Tildy—that was his name for me—that’s where the other me lives. Papa and I saw him.” Mrs Cadmore spread her hands. “He also told me his previous nurse maid was silly. She often simply pretended to be taking a nap when they were both supposed to be having a rest. What’s the use of not sleeping when you need to, Tildy?”
So far, so good and not simply the bit about the naps. Jonty was building a theory about that child at the chapel. He waited while Orlando thanked Mrs Cadmore for the information—confirming it supported the possibility Mary wasn’t sleeping on the occasion the treasure was found—then pitched in again. “I appreciate you’ll feel a great loyalty towards the Byrds and that any servant worth their salt will be discreet, even after having left the family employ. I also appreciate that much is seen and heard by those below stairs and, believe me, I wouldn’t ask you what I’d like to ask were it not important.”
Before Jonty could pose his question, Mrs Cadmore said, “Do you wish to know if the boy jumped rather than fell? I don’t know, but from the way the possibility was avoided in discussion, I’d suggest he may have done.”
“That wasn’t what I wanted to ask, although we’d already come to much the same conclusion,” Jonty reassured her. “I was more interested in the character of Edward’s father, if you could shed any light on the matter.”
Mrs Cadmore rested her hands in her lap. “I never knew the man, so anything I can tell you will be hearsay, but everyone said there would be a world of difference between the present lord and the old one. That prediction appears to be true. I still keep in touch with the gamekeeper’s wife and she says it’s been a pleasure to see Lord Henry with his children and grandchildren. And her ladyship’s not as stuck-up as she appears to be. She’s keen to make a good impression so gets nervous as a result, Gladys—that’s my friend—reckons.”
“His father wasn’t such a devoted family man?” Orlando asked, no doubt wishing to avoid the subject of Beatrice.
“Many men aren’t, Dr Coppersmith, not when it comes to showing affection to their children. Probably copying their own fathers. Not the done thing.” Mrs Cadmore gave a pout of disapproval. “And like many men, the previous lord had been a bit of a rake in his younger days, apparently. A touch of King Solomon with all his wives, except Lord Michael hadn’t necessarily married the ladies concerned. When he did marry, he supposedly settled down a bit.”
Did the “bit” imply one official wife and the occasional one for pleasure? Orlando was evidently thinking the same—and hopefully not brooding on the issue of fathers not showing fondness to their sons. “Was he