Lessons in Solving the Wrong Problem - Charlie Cochrane Page 0,6
trice, but your father was too swift and determined for the rest of us.” He patted Jonty’s shoulder. “I’m far from alone in saying that I might have been your father. Perhaps you get tired of hearing men of my generation express that thought.”
“Not tired, no, although I no longer keep tally. I’ve realised how many heads and hearts Mama must have turned in her pomp.”
It was quite a familiar conversation with anyone of his lordship’s generation. Jonty never appeared to tire of the esteem in which his parents were held so neither, by association, did Orlando. He felt part of the Stewart family and always would. As if the thought gave birth to the act, Jonty words of introduction were, “Lord Henry, this is Dr Coppersmith, my colleague at St Bride’s and an old friend of the Stewarts. Almost an adopted son, in Mama’s eyes.”
“Splendid, splendid.” His lordship shook Orlando’s hand with equal enthusiasm. A plate of food, borne by Kane, appeared on the table. Lord Henry thanked the student, then they all took their seats. “I’m so pleased that you’re both present, gentlemen. I hear you’re a regular Holmes and Watson.”
Orlando forced a smile. How he hated the man from Baker Street: any comparisons with him were odious. “We’ve been fortunate to be consulted on certain mysteries that have evaded previous solution, yes.” He was aware he sounded pompous and those who knew him well would have recognised that meant he was getting worked up. Was it the mention of Holmes that had made his hackles rise or something about Lord Henry that rankled?
“I’ve read about some of your adventures, of course. Your father’s accounts of them always make amusing reading. Better than much else one finds in The Times. Might I enquire as to whether he has employed much artistic licence?”
“You may and the answer is not a single bit.” Jonty didn’t appear to be as insulted by the question as Orlando felt about it. How dare anyone imply that the accounts of their investigations had in any way been embroidered? If anything, they’d been moderated somewhat, real life being so often tinged with events that would be frankly unbelievable if put on paper. “You’ll be aware that my father has a reputation as being a stickler for the truth in all situations.”
If he didn’t know, he damn well should have, the tone implied. Evidently Jonty had been affronted, despite the charming smile he still wore.
Lord Henry either didn’t notice the indirect rebuke or ignored it. “That reassures me greatly. I have a question and I’ll come straight out with it. Would you be interested in casting an eye over an old mystery that puzzles my family? No hidden codes or gruesome murders, but something I would hope worthy of your cerebral capacity.”
“We are always interested in anything that has so far evaded solution, With the exception of notorious cases such as Jack the Ripper.” Orlando raised an eyebrow. A foolish guest at high table had once suggested that St Bride’s famous investigational pair might turn their skills and knowledge to solving that most perplexing of mysteries, and had been so insistent—despite Orlando politely trying to explain why they had no interest in the case—that Dr Peters, the college master, had been forced to intervene. Politely but firmly he’d stated that the sleuths of St Bride’s had far more important matters to deal with, matters affecting the living rather than the long dead.
The next day, in the Senior Common Room, Dr Panesar had expressed his disappointment at the intervention, as he’d been certain blows were about to be exchanged. The prospect of Orlando laying out the vexatious visitor with a punch on the conk had been delightful. He’d not been alone in the sentiment, the chaplain saying that if it had come to blows and he’d been a betting man, he’d have opened a book on the outcome, although Orlando would surely have been an odds-on favourite.
“Very wise to avoid anything to do with Jack the Ripper because, as far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing new to be found. That case was solved when the culprit took his own life.” Lord Henry glanced round the table, as though to forbid any argument. “I shan’t spoil the day with discussing the issue. If I may, I’ll ask my secretary to contact you regarding a meeting.”
Jonty, lips pursed in thought, said, “That would be best for us, so that we can check our commitments.”
“Excellent. Perhaps you’d like to come