Lessons in Solving the Wrong Problem - Charlie Cochrane Page 0,49
Jonty suited the action to the word. “I wonder if Applecross has had a similar thought? About those old diggings.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Because of the idea he mentioned and how it involved Dr Panesar.”
Of course. The aeroplane. “They’re going to survey the land from the air on the principle that it might be easier to spot disturbances to the ground?”
“And to quickly cover a greater area than on foot.” Jonty rubbed his hands together. “We need to talk to Henry again, after Applecross and my parents have all reported back. While we’re visiting Greysands we could also see if the present owner of Five Oaks would grant us an interview. Assuming he’s still there and not off to sea again.”
“Perhaps his choice of career reflects his wandering nature as a child. Henry doesn’t appear to have inherited that adventurous streak, the impression I’ve formed being that he tends not to travel far from Greysands, so fixing a date with the supposed godson might be a better first step.”
“You can attend to those arrangements, then.” Jonty rolled his shoulders. “Two parts of the problem solved, although we’re no closer on the third one. Who caused Lord Michael’s accident? If our theory about Christine holds, it seems unlikely to be either her or her brother involved. Does the great secret give us any guidance when measured against these new theories?”
“I need time to consider that.” Curse the man. But which man? If the boy hadn’t been the child they’d thought he was, and William wasn’t the one they’d assumed, then could the man be somebody entirely different?
“There’s also the matter of Herron’s money. Unless he was in league with Mary’s brother and could sell those torcs quietly, the wealth didn’t come from the treasure.” Jonty tipped his head to one side. “Had he taken to highway robbery?”
Orlando’s hand jerked so violently he almost spilled his beer, only years of playing rugby—the fast reactions and the importance of protecting one’s drink—saving him. “What if he’d taken to blackmail, as we suggested? We’ve got an obvious victim, now.”
“Oh, yes. We know there was no great affection between the families, too, which could be a contributory factor. Making profit from one’s resentment. How to prove it, though. Would Atherton be able to shed any light on matters if we made the suggestion?”
“He might. There will be things he knows about his uncle that could be seen in a new light if he’s given a new clue.” Another draught of ale. “Was your remark about highway robbery mere whimsy, by the way? Because we’ve not at any point considered Herron as cause of the accident.”
“It was simply an attempt at humour, unless it was my sub-conscious thoughts guiding me. Maybe they can see fit to guide us towards some proof, while they’re at it.”
“Indeed.”
Because while all the solutions they’d come up with fitted the mysteries beautifully, not one of them—so far—could be said to stand on solid ground. Uncle Osment Herron’s nest egg and Christine Saggers’s change in physical condition notwithstanding.
Chapter Ten
Jonty and Orlando had often been in the position where clues came thick and fast, so bewildering in their quantity and quality that they appeared to defy ordering into a cohesive whole. Previously, though, this had happened before they’d come to a satisfying theory about the issue they were investigating: Jonty couldn’t recall an occasion where they’d got what they both believed was an answer and were only then swamped with relevant information.
Yes, Applecross had remembered the old excavations. He’d gone through the original photographs he’d taken, then gone flying over the Greysands estate once more in an attempt to locate the spots. An attempt which had turned up three possible sites to explore and for which he produced photographs both old and new, plus some details of map locations, graciously ceding to Jonty and Orlando the pleasure of sharing these with Lord Henry. They promised he—and their aerial colleague—would get the proper credit for the discovery and that they’d plead for Applecross to be allowed to help lift the treasure should it prove to have been reinterred in one of the sites.
The owner of Five Oaks was Captain William Fitznagel, a name which had caused much speculation at Forsythia Cottage.
“Fitznagel? Son of Nagel, which is an anagram of angel, as in archangel Michael,” Orlando had pointed out.
“As in Henry’s father? A touch farfetched but truth is a strange beast. It didn’t strike me in that way when I heard it before but that’s