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The Lost Gardens(8)

By:Anthony Eglin


‘More than forty years ago.’ Kingston looked up to the chandelier, calculating. ‘Must’ve been in his eighties when he died.’

Jamie nodded. ‘He had two brothers, both killed in World War II. Their names are on the memorial in the village. One was in the RAF.’

‘So Ryder lived here by himself?’

‘No. He had a live-in butler called Mainwaring who apparently looked after everything on the estate. The nice man who runs the wine shop in the village told me that Mainwaring was very close-mouthed about Ryder and Wickersham. Came in, bought what he wanted, paid cash and walked out. Hardly ever said a word. The lady in the newsagent’s said much the same thing. “Creepy old bugger”, she called him. Always wore a heavy black overcoat, even in the height of summer.’ She paused to finish her tea.

‘What happened to him?’

‘I think Latimer said that he just took off. Left the area. To tell the truth, I don’t recall.’

‘Did Ryder leave him anything?’

‘David did say that Mainwaring received a modest bequest, yes.’

Kingston rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘Did Ryder ever venture into the village?’

‘Not that I know of, which leads to speculation that he might have been an invalid.’

‘Hmm—that would certainly explain it.’

‘There was also an elderly cook and housekeeper, called Dorothy Parmenter, affectionately known as Dot. I kept her on, as a matter of fact. She’ll be cooking dinner tonight.’ She smiled. ‘I should warn you though, she’s not the easiest person to get along with.’

‘In what way?’

‘She’s very strait-laced. A widow. Doesn’t talk much. Sometimes I think our roles are reversed.’

‘I know the type.’

‘On the plus side, she’s a fabulous cook. And after she’s done with cleaning, you could literally eat off the floor.’

Jamie brushed a strand of hair from her eye and placed her cup back on the saucer. ‘That’s about the size of it,’ she said with a shrug.

‘Must have been quite a shock to the locals when they learned you were the new lady of the manor.’

Her eyes widened and she laughed out loud. ‘Are you kidding? They’ll be talking about it for years.’

Kingston was beginning to wonder whether he was coming off as being a little too inquisitive but since the young woman didn’t appear to be fazed by his questions he saw no reason not to satisfy his curiosity. He frowned. ‘If this Dot of yours worked for Ryder, surely she must know something about him?’

‘That’s what I thought. First thing I did after hiring her was to quiz her about Ryder. She told me that during the two years she worked for him, all her instructions had come from Mainwaring. She swore that in all that time she saw Ryder on no more than three or four occasions. Hard to believe, isn’t it?’

‘Not really. Quite a few people choose to be reclusive. Particularly if they’ve got something to hide.’

She raised her eyebrows as if taking exception to his remark then broke into a smile. ‘You make it sound like he was up to no good.’

‘No, that’s not what I meant at all. I’m just saying that there could have been a physical reason for his wanting to avoid people. A disfiguring war injury, something like that.’

‘I suppose that could be a possibility.’ She hesitated, then frowned. ‘But surely Dot would have mentioned that?’

‘Perhaps his mind was gone. That happens a lot in war.’ He shrugged. ‘Maybe Alzheimer’s.’

‘Could be, but he was sane enough to leave me all this. More than enough for the upkeep and expenses and a lot left over, too.’

‘It’s a mystery, all right.’

‘So now you have the whole picture.’ She slapped her hands on her knees. ‘You know all about me.’

It was clear that, as far as Jamie was concerned, that was the end of the subject. But he dared ask one more question.

‘What about your solicitor?’

‘David?’ she said, shaking her head. ‘He assures me that he’s as much in the dark as I am. According to him, his office received the sealed will, signed by Ryder and a notary, about a year ago, to be opened only upon his death. Apparently the family solicitor passed away just prior to that and David’s office was assigned to handle the estate, so naturally he doesn’t know that much about Ryder. Everything was perfectly in order, though, the title papers, bank and securities information, all the documents—they all checked out.’

‘Obviously no Ryders in the dark recesses of your family, then?’