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“Let’s go around the back,” Ryan suggested.
He eyed the narrow alley between Wilhelmina’s house and the neighbouring property, but Norman didn’t follow.
“Do you think it is safe to leave the horses?”
Ryan grinned and disappeared leaving Norman to make his mind up if he wanted to follow or guard the horses that would take them home. Minutes later, Ryan vaulted over the wall that bordered the yard at the rear of the house. He eyed the back door and contemplated how they were going to take a proper look if they couldn’t get inside.
“Hello there.”
Ryan stepped back when he heard that jovial cry. He turned around when he realised it came from an elderly gent who was now peering over the top of the wall at him.
“I say, are you the bailiffs?”
“No. Should I be?” Ryan pointed to the house. “She has them a lot, does she?”
The man rolled his eyes.
“Do you have a key? I have been told to come and have a look at the fire damage.”
“Fire damage?” The man looked puzzled.
“Has there not been a fire here?”
“Well, something happened the other day that led to her going away to visit relations, but I don’t think it was a fire,” the man reported.
“Do you have a key?” Ryan persisted.
“I think she might keep one in the store behind you.”
Ryan nodded his thanks but before he went to see if there was one, turned to the back door of the house. Curious, he turned the knob on the door and shook his head in disgust when the door swung inward without hindrance.
“She’s either lazy or doesn’t have anything worth stealing. Or, she might have left the house and not told Arthur.” Ryan looked at the neighbour who was watching him. “Does she still live here?”
The old man frowned. “I can’t rightly say. She took a lot of things with her when she left. It took a day or so to get everything stacked up in the yard.”
“Did she have a young man with her?”
“He helped her pack everything.”
“Does he come here often?”
“Aye, he is the son of a friend of hers.”
Ryan’s ears perked up. “Where does he live, do you know?”
The old man gave him an address which matched the one Mabel had given him.
“Thank you.” Ryan nodded his thanks and entered the still and silent house.
The only way to describe it was barren. It was empty; devoid of all sign of habitation. Even the furniture had gone, although it wasn’t at Arthur’s. It might be, but Arthur hadn’t mentioned he was having to store it. Because of the lack of outside storage at Arthur’s house, Ryan suspected Arthur didn’t have it.
“Did the bailiff’s take your furniture, Wilhelmina, or did you sell it because you knew you were going to move into Arthur’s house and wouldn’t need it? But why did you then tell him that a house fire had forced you to leave here? Surely you would have known that he would come and check, or want to do something to get the property repaired?” Ryan muttered to himself as he did a thorough search of the house from the attic through to the basement. He didn’t find even a stick of furniture, or an errant teacup. With a sigh, he made his way back to Norman, who was guarding the horses with a deep scowl.
“God, this is a bloody rough area,” he growled when Ryan was within earshot.
“Let’s go.”
Curious, Norman eyed his friend, but Ryan was already mounting his horse. As they rode through town, Ryan told his friend what he had found.
