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Mark Patterson was a well respected and liked lawyer in Coppin’s Locks. He often did work for people who had financially difficulties, and they never got a bill from his office. Erin had made an appointment to see him, and she was ushered into his office at exactly 3:00pm.
“Hi Erin,” said the affable man extending his hand, “I think we met last year at your store. I was interested in a big kitchen hutch for my summer cottage. I actually ended up buying something else from you girls and it works perfectly in my place.”
“Glad you found the right piece,” laughed Erin, “Monica and I are always so happy when a client finds the find of a lifetime.”
“Now, I know that you are here about Mr. Peter Andrews. Police Chief Van Dyck dropped in last week and he obviously felt that your concerns were legitimate. Maybe you give me more details.”
“I am not quite sure where to start,” admitted Erin, “so I will begin at the start of this whole strange story. Stop me along the way if you have questions.”
For the next twenty minutes, Erin told Michael about her first encounter with the Pages, finding the new shoes, Fred’s concern over the extravagant food choices, the call for help at the window, the paper he handed to her, and Jerry’s concern about the old man. When she got to the part about getting back into Deerfield Cottage with some help from a friend, Patterson’s mouth formed the smallest smile. The end of the story about the old man pointing to the book on his bookshelf had him sitting forward in interest.
“Well, well, that is quite a story,” he said, “I had no idea this was all going on although Van Dyck did express some concern. My father as you may or may not know was a lawyer and he handled the transfer of the house years ago from the old aunt to the nephew. When I became a lawyer, he then retired and I took over all his files. Now I can’t tell you everything of course due to client confidentiality but as you know Mr. Andrews had a stroke a few years ago. He then found it harder and harder to cope on his own. Janine Page was hired to go in on a daily basis and help him with cooking, cleaning and chores. Over time, her husband started to come over to mow the lawn, rake the leaves and do minor renovating chores. None of this is a secret, and everybody around town knew about it. As time went on, Mr. Andrews, or whoever he is, got worse and worse. He finally asked the Pages to move into his house full time. He had spoken to me about this, and he said that they had been wonderful to him, very kind and considerate. They agreed to this arrangement, and it seemed ideal. One day Mrs. Page made an appointment to see me, and she and the husband brought old Mr. Andrews into the office.
“Was he able to walk then, or was he is his wheelchair?” asked Erin.
“He had had one stroke at that point, he was in his wheelchair, and he was having trouble talking,” answered Mark, “but I could understand him. The next thing I know he asks if the Pages can become his powers of attorney; he said they were really good to him. I had to check into a few things, sort things out with the bank and then we had a final meeting, and it was set up. The Pages would pay his bills, buy his food, and take care of him.”
“Doesn’t anybody check the expenses?” asked Erin hoping that the man wouldn’t take her comment the wrong way.
“My summer student assistant does a cursory check each month.”
“Mark, you might want to check the grocery bills and items yourself. I understand that the Pages are living the good life on the old man’s money. But, putting that aside, I am going to drop another bomb on you. This is a story of lies, deceit and a disappearance from 1957. Just listen.” Erin continued telling the lawyer about meeting Miss Willis, her detailed scrapbook, the disappearance of the two men, and the question of who the man living in Deerfield Cottage really was. When Erin was finished, and out of breath, there was complete silence in the room. She could tell that Mark was mulling over and completely stunned by what she had just told him.
“That is an incredible story. He, whoever he is, sure had some nerve. And he got away with it, and we still have no idea who he is.”
“Hopefully, Monica and I can figure out who Mr. Andrews is and then that part of the puzzle is solved. It is clear from what Miss Willis said that he is neither Finsbury nor Andrews. Heaven knows where those two are. I think it is time to get you and Van Dyck to go and pay a visit to Mr. Andrews and find out the truth. Then the police might want to re investigate either a double murder or a disappearance that took place in 1957.”
“From what you have told me, I think you are right, but I want you to come along too when we go to see Mr. Andrews, or whoever he is. You seem to have some kind of rapport with the old man. He might feel less intimidated if you are there.”
“No problem, I will be happy to tag along,” confirmed Erin getting to her feet. Just as she was opening the office door, she had an afterthought. “By the way, you might also want to check into Janine Page. Her name seems to be popping up these days in all the worst places.”
Wilhelmina arrived from Lexington two days after Monica and Erin arrived back to Coppin’s Locks, and she booked a room at The Thirsty Toad. When Jerry had bought the dilapidated building years ago, he made the decision - now regarded as wise – to turn the red brick stable block and coach house into rooms. They were far enough away from the main building so that guests could sleep despite the weekend music. The summer student who was hired to mow the lawns and do general maintenance was also responsible for planting and caring for the window boxes and small gardens. The final result was just as Jerry envisioned: A small slice of the English countryside in North America.
Monica took Wilhelmina out for lunch at Bonita’s, and tried to make her feel welcome and occupied at this difficult time. She also accompanied her to speak to Van Dyck where she told him the whole story. Later in the week on a grey and cloudy day Monica, Erin and Wilhelmina went to the graveyard for the baby’s funeral. Monica, Erin, and Wilhelmina stood at the gravesite and listened to Father Greene talk as the tiny white coffin was lowered into the ground, about the innocence of a baby, and how the child would be welcomed to heaven. Suddenly Monica felt a presence behind her and turned around. Giles was standing there with his head bowed. When the short service was over he walked up to Wilhelmina and gave her a hug.
“Very nice of you to come Giles,” said Wilhelmina stiffly while dabbing her eyes, “after all, you were related to the baby.”
“Now I know the whole story,” admitted Giles, “and it would be unkind and unfair to put the blame for the affair all on your shoulders; it takes two to tango as they say.”
“I was lucky that your father was kind enough to allow me to stay at the house for the baby’s birth, and then let me stay and work for the family afterwards.”
“My father was basically a kind man. I am not sure if he ever told my mother what had gone on between you two. Perhaps she guessed, perhaps not, but if she knew she kept it a secret. I also want to apologize for treating you the way I have since my father died. I guess I was angry at him, and I took out my feelings on you. I apologize.”
Wilhelmina put her handkerchief in her purse, and straightened her shoulders. “That is fine Giles. I am also to blame, but sometimes the things we do in our youth are things we regret in older life. There are always two sides to a story though so it is good to forgive and be forgiven.”
“You are right Wilhelmina,” said Giles clasping her hands, “and you have a place with our family forever.”
The small group began to walk slowly back towards their cars, and the priest wound his way through the tombstones in the graveyard back to the church office.
“Oh, before you all go,” said Giles suddenly turning on his heel to face the others, “I am staying at Chimneys, the B&B by the river, and I would like to treat everybody to dinner tomorrow tonight. They have a wonderful cook there named Doris. Can everybody make it? Say 7:00pm? Oh, and Monica, bring Patrick.”
“Sounds wonderful,” answered Monica with enthusiasm opening the door of the Land Rover for Wilhelmina and Erin who climbed in. “We will see you tomorrow.”
“Now Wilhelmina, where can we drop you off,” asked Monica driving slowly out of the church yard.
“Perhaps just in the middle of town. I think I might enjoy a walk by the Mill Pond on my way back to the Thirsty Toad.”
“We can give you a lift tomorrow night for the dinner too so how about if we pick you up around 6:45pm?”
“That sounds great,” answered Wilhelmina distantly. Erin looked at her and thought she saw her eyes filling again. “Are you sure you are all right?” she asked kindly.
“Oh, yes, it has been a very emotional few weeks hasn’t it. Everything came rushing back when Giles told me that a baby had been found in the stables. I knew right away who the baby was but I couldn’t say a thing. I didn’t want to say that it was poor Mary who had taken the baby. I was rather hoping that the whole mess might just go away. Silly of me. Wishful thinking.”
“Wilhelmina, now you can grieve for your baby. You know what happened to her all those years ago. Giles also now understands what went on, and you can all get on with your lives. You know how that saying goes: ‘You have to make the decision to let go of the past if you want to move forward.’ ”
“Yes, despite the fact that finding the baby has brought all the sadness to the surface, it has also put the whole situation to bed in a way. There is closure for me, and I am sad but I do feel better in a way,” answered Wilhelmina.
Erin reached over and gave her a hug. The woman got out of the vehicle, waved and began to walk slowly up the road towards the main street.
“Oh, my heart aches for her,” said Monica watching the woman walk slowly away. “She will never really get over something like that. Nobody would.”
***
Despite the sadness surrounding the visit to Coppin’s Lock’s for Wilhelmina and Giles, it would be good to do something different to help distract everybody for an evening. Chimneys B&B looked wonderful and welcoming in the warm summer evening and the red brick mansion boasted seven huge chimneys, lovely perennial gardens, orchards, walking paths, and a river that ran along the bottom of the garden lawns. An old mill stood at attention along the banks of the rushing water. Owner and manager Carl Oliver was waiting for the group as they drove up the shady driveway and parked at the entrance. Introductions were made, and Giles asked for a tour as he was interested in seeing how and what Carl had done to renovate the old house. Was he perhaps thinking of doing something to his old estate wondered Monica?
Erin, Monica, Patrick and Wilhelmina had a glass of wine on the terrace, and were delighted when Doris, Carl’s partner came out to say hello.
“We haven’t seen you in ages Doris. You look wonderful. Now tell us, how is Caspian doing?” asked Monica referring to Doris’s son. He had skirted possible prison time thanks to the efforts of Van Dyck, a sympathetic judge, a schedule of volunteer work, and gardening work at Chimneys during its transformation.
“He worked here all last summer and fall,” gushed Doris with pride, “and then started at college taking a course in landscape architecture. He loves it, and of course he gets to practice on the gardens here. Carl gives him full rein — well within reason — and he is thinking of doing something to the mill next. He has finally found his calling in life.”
“That is wonderful,” said Patrick who was well aware that Caspian was one of the lucky young men who had been marching steadfastly down the wrong road, but had been given, and had taken advantage of a second chance in life. “And, how are the reservations coming along?”
“We are full almost every weekend,” said Doris, her face wreathed in smiles. “There was a write up in a travel magazine, and that brought in a lot of business. Carl designed and manages the website, and I do the cooking. There are some summer students to help from May until the fall. We are thinking of having some theme weekends like spa packages, cooking courses, writer’s courses. When you think of it there are so many possibilities. Monica and Erin, would you be interested in doing an antique buying and restoration weekend with us?”
Monica looked at Erin, and shrugged. “Why not? Sounds great. That would be fun, and a good way to promote our business too.”
Dinner was served on the outdoor patio under twinkling lights. Giles and Patrick had roast beef with all the trimmings, and the three ladies enjoyed fresh sole almandine. The sun was setting over the distant hills, and the smell of flowers, and new mown grass filled the senses. The river tumbled and splashed at the end of the lawn, and spotlights created a pleasant glow on the walls and roof of the old mill. Wine glasses were filled though Wilhelmina giggled a little after her first glass and refused a second. At the end of the delicious homemade crème brûlée dessert, Giles tapped his glass and asked for silence. “I just want to say a great big thank you to Monica and Erin for helping solve this mystery. While it is sad for Wilhelmina, at least and at last we all know the truth now, and. just before...” Suddenly the kitchen door swung open, and Carl stepped onto the patio. “I am so sorry to interrupt your party, but I just got a phone call from Police Chief Van Dyck. It appears that old Mr. Andrews has fallen, and is in the hospital. Van Dyck asked for Erin and Monica and Patrick to go over there now.”
