Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Dead End Investigation.
Harold didn’t answer me yesterday, just picked up the envelope and put it in his pocket. I really don’t know what’s going on here, and for someone who generally knows everything that’s going on, that’s a huge worry. How can Harold know something that I don’t?
I went to the source of all Harold-knowledge. Ada.
We had a pleasant chat over a cup of tea, right to the point where I broached St. Marples’. Then she clammed up entirely and refused to be questioned about it. I left with the distinct feeling that it was a specific event that had caused their reticence to talk about it, so my trip to Ada wasn’t entirely a wasted avenue of enquiry.
A brief search through the county records revealed that St. Marple’s had last been occupies in 1994, when it had been the site of a weekly antiques fair.
Harold dealt in second-hand goods and antiques before I met him. His uncle Frederick used to give him a hand. Back to the Manor, I think. I have another lead.