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

happens. Strangers always tend to stick out a bit like a sore thumb in a backwater like this. I think I know the chap Jim mentioned to you; gave me the impression of being a bit of a sly character all round. Nothing you could put your finger on mind, but the sort of man I instinctively don’t trust. Not that he made any trouble mind you. Came in, had a drink, asked a few questions, sat around for a bit looking at people in the way that suggested he was looking for someone, and eventually left.”

    “Looking for information was he?”

    Syd eyed him reflectively for a moment. “You connected with the police at all?” he asked casually.

    “Good heavens no; I’m a business man.”

    “I see, well, I don’t look to get anyone into any sort of trouble; bad for business.”

    “I can quite understand that.”

    “He was asking questions about Springwater House.”

    It was what Jim Perkins had mentioned to him, and Martin’s curiosity was naturally aroused.

    “And you think he was a crook weighing up his chances of breaking in?” he asked.

    “I didn’t say that; just struck me as odd, that’s all. I think if he had been a housebreaker, even an amateur one, he’d been a bit more discrete about his intentions. No, he just gave the impression of being a bit of a nosey type; wanted to know how many people lived there, whether there were any dogs, and all that sort of thing.”

    “I agree that it sounds a bit odd; I’ll have to keep my eye open for anyone snooping around. Thanks for the friendly warning; what did this chap look like?”

    “Oh, about six foot, blonde hair, quite well built, quietly dressed, sort of babyish face, but there was something about his eyes that said his looks didn’t match his nature if you know what I mean?”

    “Well, it certainly doesn’t sound like anyone I know, so I guess it cannot be anyone actually looking for me; not that many people know I’m down here anyway.”

    “Maybe he had seen the place was empty and was thinking of trying to buy it?”

    “Yes, possible I suppose,” Martin agreed, remembering that Charles had already mentioned that an offer had been received. “You say there have been other strangers about; not all crooks looking for easy pickings in an empty house I hope?”

    “Shouldn’t think so,” Syd laughed. “But yes, there’s been quite a spate of them of late. Mostly they appear, you see them maybe once, or sometimes twice, and then you don’t see them anymore. Generally they are perfectly ordinary individuals just passing through, or maybe visiting local residents and so on. Some of them tend to stick in your mind more than others. There was a chap came in the other night for example; big-built fellow with a beard. Told me he was a rep for some security company and that he was in town looking for possible leads. He was making notes about all sorts of business’s and big houses, explaining that he planned to cold-call them all while he’s here; seemed to be a real keen pushy type to me. I guess he got what he was looking for because I haven’t seen him since. Maybe he’ll be up to see you sometime?”

    “Thanks for the tip, if I see anyone matching that description I shall get the redoubtable resident housekeeper to say I’m out!”

    “You do that,” Syd laughed. “It’ll take a very determined rep to get past Mrs Brent I’m thinking!”

    “You know her as well then?”

    “Not to speak to; there’s not many granted that privilege I can tell you. I’ve seen her a few times of course; she works part-time down at Groggins the Estate Agents. Good at her job, I’m told, but hard as nails as a person.”

    “Yes, I rather got that impression when I met her; still, I have to say that she’s very efficient as a housekeeper.”

    “So I believe, but she certainly isn’t the matey type. I’ve heard that one or two people have tried to get sociable with her and she freezes them out straight away. I doubt that one has a friend in