tonight.”
And with Orlando gently chuckling beside him—and a warm feeling inside that wasn’t simply due to the sunshine—Jonty got them on the road.
Chapter Eleven
Greysands appeared to have mellowed over the weeks since Jonty and Orlando had visited the house, or perhaps it was the emergence of spring which provided a softer light on the stonework and brighter colours in the gardens. The sun on their backs as they strolled from the metal monster to the door—where their host awaited them—added to the sense of both wellbeing and a task nearing its successful completion.
“You have news for us?” Henry asked as they shook hands.
“Yes, although we also have more questions. If they confirm what we believe, then we can present a workable solution.” Orlando fiddled with his hat, until a servant came to take it and they could be ushered into the morning room where Beatrice was waiting with pot of coffee. They had politely refused the invitation to stay for lunch, pleading extreme pressure on their diaries. As Jonty had suggested when they’d first been invited, it would be best simply to drop their bombshells and leave. Given the discussions at Five Oaks, that stratagem was looking ever more appropriate.
While Beatrice poured their drinks, Orlando said, “Mary’s brother worked on the estate. Was he employed by your father on those unsuccessful excavations he made?”
“You’ve stumped me first ball, Orlando. Let me send word for someone to find out.”
“Thank you.” They made small talk with their hostess while that was set in motion, then Jonty produced an envelope. “There are some aerial photographs in here, courtesy of Dr Applecross and his partner in aerial mischief, Dr Panesar. They show where those old excavations may have taken place. Evidence of disturbed ground, which even I can see in one of these.”
“We believe it’s possible that Mary told her brother where the treasure was, possibly the very night of its discovery. By our reckoning, he dug it up, whole or in part, sometime over the next week and then reburied most of what he’d found in the old diggings. Somebody—we’re assuming him—offered a torc and some coins for sale around that time.” Orlando stirred his coffee, more for effect than purpose. “The coins were bought, which may have been the ultimate cause of the man’s death, if he drank his profits away. We also are not aware of the rest of the hoard being disposed of, unless it was done secretly, so think it might be profitable to re-open those old trenches and see if there is a redeposit of the trove. Perhaps your grandchildren would enjoy the adventure, when they’re old enough to remember taking part.”
The appearance of the butler, with the news that Jude Gold had indeed been one of those who had been set to excavate in Lord Michael’s time, appeared to settle the subject.
“Thank you,” Henry said. “I’m so grateful for your help.”
“It’s been a pleasure,” Jonty replied, which was less truthful a statement than it might have been. “We must confess, though, that while we came to follow this particular trail, we turned down some blind alleys on the way. We also learned things which we promise not to divulge outside of the Byrd family.”
Neatly done. If they’d spoken of these things with Fitznagel, he was covered by that Byrd blanket, whichever side of it he’d been born.
“We’ve also,” Jonty continued, clearly avoiding looking in Beatrice’s direction, “had to make more than one promise that we would keep information confidential. Promises to people outside this house who have trusted us to be men of our word. I’ll simply say, Henry, that your mother didn’t see a ghost when she thought she saw Edward after his death. She saw another child of a similar age.”
Beatrice, after a nod at Orlando, patted her husband’s hand. “That’s a great relief, you know. You’re clearly not able to say who the child was, so we’ll have to trust you word and your ability and experience at solving puzzles.”
“Yes, thank you. I’ve a dozen questions to ask, but if you’re sworn not to answer, then I’ll have to lay them all to rest with the burden of worry I’ve been carrying about her.” Henry squeezed his wife’s hand then let it go. “An unexpected bonus, gentlemen.”
“There is one other thing we found out, although whether you’d regard this as a bonus is debatable, so we must precede it with a question. A highly personal question, for which we apologise.” Orlando adopted his most