A Well Kept Secret by A. B. King Page A

principle and integrity; perhaps he placed the rights of genuine family above all other considerations? In any case, as I have already told you, Mrs Brent expected nothing. Along with myself, she was a witness to the will and knew of its contents. For the record; Dr Marston confided in me when he asked me to attend as a witness that he had wished to make a financial settlement on her, and she had immediately been very angry and upset, threatening to leave his service immediately if he put such a bequest in his will.”

    “Did she indeed? Then it goes without saying that any rudimentary suspicions I may have entertained about her are obviously totally unfounded,” said Martin. “Thank you Dr Rawlinson, you have certainly put my mind at rest on that score.”

    “I’m glad I was able to help,” said the doctor, glancing at his watch. “Was there anything else?”

    “No, you have clarified matters admirably,” said Martin, taking the hint and getting to his feet, “thank you for your time.”

    It was approaching one o’clock when Martin finally emerged from the surgery, and seeing the hostelry mentioned by Mr Dobson’s clerk Perkins, decided that he would visit the place for a light lunch. 'The Rose and Crown' was a medium sized public house that was obviously not so heavily patronised during the day, for there were comparatively few people in the lounge bar when he entered. Everything looked clean and tidy, with no evidence of pop-music or the gambling machines so beloved of the younger generation, and through an open door at the rear he saw an excellent garden with a few tables and chairs set out in the sunshine. A balding, thickset man of about fifty looked at him with a slightly interrogative expression on his face as he approached the bar

    “What can I get you?” he asked.

    “Half of lager, I think,” Martin responded, “with just a splash of lime; do you have anything to eat?”

    “Only do snacks of a lunch time,” said the man as he reached down for a bottle, “but we do a full menu of an evening.”

    “I’ll remember that; would you be Syd by any chance?”

    “That’s my name; who told you that?”

    “I met one of your regulars earlier on; chap by the name of Perkins, works at the solicitors?”

    “Oh, young Jim; that explains it. I wondered how you knew, you being a stranger in these parts.”

    “Oh dear, “Martin chuckled, “is it that obvious?”

    “Well, I’ve lived here all my life, I doubt there’s many as lives in these parts that I don’t know at least by sight?”

    “No, I suppose not.”

    “Anyway, did you want a hot snack? I’ve got jacket potatoes with various fillings and side salad, hot pies, pasties, hot dogs, or a ploughman’s if you prefer?”

    “I’ll have a jacket potato if I may.”

    “Filling?”

    “I don’t mind. Cheese?”

    “Cheese it is; side salad?”

    “That will be fine.”

    Syd finished pouring the lager, took the note that Martin pushed across the bar to him. He walked a few paces sideways and called the order through the hatch that obviously communicated with the kitchen. After ringing up the sale on the till, he returned to pass the change back to Martin.

    “Food will be up in a few minutes,” he said. “You down here on business?”

    “I suppose you could call it that, yes,” Martin agreed, taking a sip of his drink before replacing the glass on the bar. “I’ve recently inherited a house on the outskirts of Wellworthy; thought I’d come and look it over.”

    “That would be old Doc Marston’s place I imagine?”

    “My, you really do know what’s going on in these parts!”

    “There’s not a lot that gets past me!” Syd chuckled.

    “Young Jim Perkins tells me I’m not the only stranger in these parts. He mentioned something about a shifty looking character he saw the last time he was in here; was that someone you noticed as well?”

    “I’ve seen two or three strangers about here recently as it