“Storage of a different kind. There were rumours of illegal migrant workers, all unproven of course, but Sol never bothered to deny them. The truth was very different.” Max paused for a good mouthful of coffee. “Sol was a farmer, and also a hunter. He had several big game licenses each year – moose, caribou and bear, plus other seasonal wild game licenses.
“He lived as his parents and grandparents had done, buying nothing that one could provide for themselves. There were freezers filled with farm produce, wild game, fish and berries. When the freezers were full, all other meat was bottled or canned and labelled with content and date. Last time I saw it, there was enough to last a lifetime.”
Harry rubbed his chin. “That would last the daughter for many years. Were there any animals left on the farm when the old man died?”
“A few dairy cows, pigs and a pen full of turkeys and chickens. A lot of eggs were sold or pickled.”
“What happened to the animals?”
Max shrugged. “Not sure, probably sold them or had them slaughtered for personal use.”
If any of that preserved meat was left, it would certainly attract any homeless persons who knew, or heard, about it.”
“So, Bingo could be on the right track. He’ll be pleased to know that.”
Harry chuckled. “Don’t tell him yet. I want to check a few things first.” He frowned. “Could someone be doing a maintenance check by moonlighting after hours?”
“Sol hired a contractor, spring and fall, to check the outside of the building, and take care of any necessary repairs. Victoria continued that practice, at least until she left.”
“But an inspection would be needed before selling,” Harry said, and Max nodded. “What about finances? She couldn’t sell enough eggs to live on. Did she have a large inheritance?”
“I don’t know about that,” Max said, shaking his head. “But, she was a writer, under some fake name. After Sol died, the top floor of the silo became her office.”
“I’ll check out the farm, and check on sale through a real estate agent. Drop by next time you hear from Bingo and we’ll see what we have then.”
***************
Two days passed before Max received another summons from Bingo. He stopped to get coffee and muffins on the way.
Bingo sniffed and grinned as Max opened the door. “Janet’s cranberry muffins.”
Max laughed. “You still have a nose like a bloodhound.” He waited until they were seated before continuing. “What have you seen this time?”
Bingo shook his head. “It’s more like what I’ve heard.”
Max set his cup on the table between their chairs. “Okay, what did you hear.”
He listened patiently as Bingo – between bites of muffin – told him what he’d heard the night before.
“What do you think it was?”
“I don’t know what to think,” Bingo said, “but Hogan might have some ideas.” He pulled the checker game from a shelf at the bottom of the table. “You can go tell him after our game.” They spent the next hour playing checkers, sipping coffee, and reminiscing about old times.
