A Crowded Coffin(56)
‘The grapevine said it was a team from the university, scuba diving or something, but what my friend said is that there’s another gadget called a sniffer that’s used underwater to detect traces of gaseous hydrocarbons. For instance if they were bubbling up from an oil reservoir.’
Rory was about to comment when Sam cursed quietly. ‘Damn, got to get back in to the meeting. Look, ask Walter Attlin about the Hag’s Hole but try not to alarm him. He’s got his own fish to fry and I can’t betray a confidence, but one thing I can assure you is that he’s not looking for oil. So if someone else is, they’re doing it for their own ends.’
Even allowing for Sam’s elderly acquaintance to be completely out of date regarding current oil exploration, Rory thought there was enough there for food for thought. He drifted back into the party and sought out his cousin Walter.
‘Don’t look at me like that,’ said the old man with a smile. ‘I know Edith’s been watching me like a hawk, but I’m fine, and so is Penelope. How are you getting on with the neighbours?’
‘Fine, they’re a nice bunch. But somebody mentioned a place called the Hag’s Hole and I didn’t get a chance to find out more. It sounds a bit indelicate, I thought.’
This time the old man laughed out loud. ‘Indelicate? Of course it is, this village is full of indelicate people! No, it’s always been called that, witches and so forth, I expect, as well as the God-awful stench that hangs about the place. It’s a biggish pond, a lake really, on land that belongs to me but which I’ve leased to Gordon Dean for the last couple of years. It’s next to his boundary and I believe he originally had some idea of cleaning it up and stocking it with trout. Hasn’t happened, though, I could have told him so.’
‘Wonder why it smells?’ Rory was intrigued. ‘Could it be methane bubbling up, maybe?’ He was remembering Sam’s parting shot before he hurried back to his meeting. ‘According to my informant,’ Sam had told him. ‘The best detection device of all in the oil world used to be someone who feels it in his bones, kind of ‘reads’ the rocks. Someone with a nose for it. Someone,’ he had added, ‘in the oil business might well come from Texas.’
There was no time to consider the problem. Walter Attlin kept Rory by his side, introducing him to this neighbour, nodding to another, making sure that nobody was stuck for long with a bore. ‘Staff College,’ he twinkled on catching Rory’s eye. ‘Army training never leaves you; don’t let a group get too big and never let anyone get trapped in a corner. Ah, Lara. How are you, my dear? Your father not with you? Business in London? What a pity. And this must be your American friend. I’ve heard about him, of course.’
They shook hands and Walter nodded to Rory. ‘Have you two been introduced?’
‘Not formally,’ Rory answered as Edith came up to them.
‘I must remedy that,’ the old man was smiling. ‘Mr Goldstein, let me introduce my cousin, Dr Rory Attlin.’
‘Your cousin?’ Lara’s interruption sounded incredulous. ‘I understood he was—’
The temperature lowered until even Lara had the grace to look abashed. Edith looked startled and anxious but Walter Attlin spoke with a measured dignity. ‘Certainly, my dear.’ He was politeness personified, in spite of Lara’s own rudeness. ‘There was some kind of family quarrel a couple of generations ago and my great-uncle ran away from home. He was Rory’s great-great-grandfather and sadly the two branches of the family were separated. Fortunately, Rory made contact with us when he came down to talk about his new job, and we’re delighted to have the opportunity of healing an ancient rift.’
Edith had time to notice Lara’s chagrin, along with the bashful but pleased expression on Rory’s face, before the significance hit her. So there was no mystery, no dark family secret. As he had claimed all along, Rory was a distant cousin, nothing more, and she had been making a complete fool of herself. The rest was sheer spite on Lara’s part, fuelled perhaps by speculation: the likeness really was remarkable.
The arrival of the vicar gave Edith no time to analyze her relief. He opened his eyes at her slightly distrait manner and, to her intense irritation, it was clear that he was putting it down to pleasure at seeing him. Pride made her pull herself together as she escorted John Forrester towards the drinks. ‘I hear you were thinking we might go out for a drink tonight? Sorry about that but it’s been pretty chaotic round here, what with Harriet moving in with us.’