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Bertie looked up as the door opened. “Good morning, Mrs. Walker. Please come in. Can I get you a coffee?”
Mrs. Walker sat down and glanced around the office. “I was looking for Mr. Hogan.”
“Harry’s out this morning, but he’ll be back after lunch. Why don’t you tell me what your problem is and I’ll pass it on to him.”
“Do you know much about genealogy?” Bertie shook her head and the woman continued. “Never mind. I don’t suppose it matters. I need to find a journal – or perhaps several journals – that could shed some light on a mystery in the family history.”
“And you want us to locate it for you?”
“I’m getting nowhere on my own.”
“I see. Tell me about it.”
Mrs. Walker nodded. “I recently learned that Samuel Jones was a distant relative and, while trying to contact him, I came across his obituary online. He died almost 14 months ago. Apparently there were some journals sold as part of his estate sale. I located his sister and she told me that, apart from a few souvenirs she and her children collected, everything else was sold or auctioned before the estate itself went up for sale.”
“Were the journals sold before or after the estate sale?” Bertie asked.
“As far as she knows, the books were sold before but she isn’t sure if the journals went with them or not. He travelled a lot and kept detailed journals of his travels. But she said he was interested in genealogy and shortly before he died, he was quite excited about a recent discovery, something about possible ties to a slave plantation in the southern United States.”
“But, he didn’t tell her what it was.”
“No.” Mrs. Walker shook her head. “She didn’t share her brother’s interest in genealogy and didn’t know if the journals had gone with the books, or if they had been thrown out.”
“Interesting. Do you know who handled the estate sale?” Bertie asked.
Mrs. Walker handed Bertie a card. “She called and gave them permission to talk to me about it. When I get home, I’ll call and tell them Hogan’s Investigations is handling it for me.” She rose from her seat. “I do hope we can find them.”
“I’ll pass this on to Harry and we’ll get back to you as soon as we know something.”
As Bertie was about to close the door behind Mrs. Walker, Harry pulled into the driveway. She left the door open and waited. “You’re back early,” she said. “Fish not biting?”
He walked in and headed for the coffee pot as she closed the door behind him. “Who was that? Someone needing help?” He took his mug over to his desk and sat down.
“Mrs. Irene Walker,” Bertie said, and told him what she wanted.
Harry shook his head. “I’m going out of town. Moe’s mother-in-law has a problem. Someone is stealing the painted rocks from her front yard.”
“Painted rocks?” Bertie echoed.
“Not just ordinary painted rocks. This lady is a professional painter, a real artist.”
“I see. So, what about Mrs. Walker? I could call and tell her we’ll look into it when you get back.”
Harry rubbed his chin. “You could… or you could take care of it yourself. It sounds to me like it will be mostly research and that’s more your thing than mine.”
Bertie was silent for a minute as Harry watched her, head tipped to one side.
“I suppose I could try,” she said. “I do enjoy research. When are you leaving?”
“As soon as I shower and pack a bag.” He tossed her a key. “You’ll need a key to the office. It’s about time you had one anyway.”
“Thank you.”
He drained his mug and stood up. “I’ll check in to see how things are going but call if you have any problems.”
She nodded. “Enjoy your visit with Moe and the kids, and good luck with the rocks.”
After Harry had gone, Bertie called the Auction House. Their records showed that all the books, journals and papers belonging to Samuel Jones had been purchased together. They could not give out personal information but agreed to forward her request and contact information to the buyer.
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