Harry sipped his coffee and picked up a bun. “I’m all ears.”
“I told you what I used to do… in my younger days, as Glory said.” Harry nodded and she continued. “All my reports were verbal so there would be no paper trails to trace. However, I travelled a lot in those days and, apart from the work, I saw a lot of places and talked to some interesting people.”
“I’m sure you did,” Harry said.
“So, I decided it was time to put it all together… for the family… the places and historic buildings I visited and my impressions of them. Along with some of the most interesting stories I learned from some of the residents.”
“It sounds fascinating.”
“I hope it will be… but what’s on your mind? I know you aren’t here just to have coffee with two old ladies.”
Harry laughed and explained what he was looking for. “Can you tell me anything?”
“I was acquainted with them. We supported some of the same charities and shared a few conversations at fund-raising events. We weren’t close friends, but I’m not sure they had any really close friends. They were each other’s support, and that seemed to be enough for them.”
“They kept to themselves,” Glory said, “but Silas might know something about the house.”
“Silas?” Harry asked.
Miss Pinkerton nodded. “Silas Blogger, retired light keeper. I seem to recall his family had some connection with them. I do know Jacob and Nancy didn’t build the house but Silas might know more about that.”
“Then I’ll go talk to him next.” Harry stood up.
“Are you and Miss Blackstone still working together?”
“From time to time,” Harry said, smiling. “Miss Blackett and I work well together. I appreciate her help, and I value her friendship.”
“We all need good friends, Mr. Hogan.”
“Thank you for your help, ladies. Enjoy the rest of your day.” Harry was smiling and shaking his head as he drove away.
He went home, grabbed a sandwich for lunch and was out the door again. He found Silas Blogger at home, explained what he was looking for, and was told to come in.
“Some contractor built the house but never lived in it and sold it a few years after it was finished. The Walkers were the first ones to live there. He died fairly young, brain aneurism, and she left town. The Youngs bought it next, older couple, no children. He was kind of eccentric; paranoid over his book collection, afraid someone would steal them. After he developed dementia they moved into a long-term care home. Then came the Wooden family.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Fifty years. Their son, Carl, was introduced in my class the day after they moved in. My mother did housecleaning for them.” He went on to tell some of the stories he had heard from his mother. “I feel like I’m forgetting something, but I don’t know what.”
“I know more now than when I came here,” Harry said as he was leaving.
