Page 59 of The Burnt
The boy shook his head. “Not that I saw. But therewasone other thing. He did seem to know the place.”
“The place on Buffalo Street?”
“Yeah. He knew just how to sneak around the iron fence. There’s a big cedar bush beside a stone pillar. If you push back the branches, there’s a gap you can get through. And he knew that the place had a lady that answered the door for the owner.”
Charlie nodded. “He did, did he?”
“Yeah,” the boy confirmed.
“Anything else?”
“Nope. Money, please.” The boy held out his hand.
Charlie pulled out his wallet and counted out eight twenties. “Guess you wouldn’t have change?”
“Do I look like a bank teller?”
Charlie handed him the money. The boy shoved the bills into his jeans pocket, turned then walked away trailing a stream of exhaled steam. He was a con artist in the making. Charlie admired him.
* * * *
Charlie drove Jasmine back to The Paddock. When he got there, the gate was open and there was a black BMW 7 Series sedan parked in the drive.
“When is that man going to learn to shut the gate?” Jasmine complained.
Charlie looked over at her.
“You don’t know this town, Mr Watts. You leave that gate open and in no time the property’s full of tourists taking pictures like this is a public garden.”
“Is that Mr Griffin’s car?” Charlie asked.
“No. It’s too modern for him. That’s Mr Semple’s.”
“The guy that works for Mr Griffin?”
“That’s him,” she replied. “Mr Griffin calls him his ‘major-domo’, a title Tom’s very good at using when he’s staying here. Would you like to speak with him?”
“If he has the time,” Charlie answered.
“Why don’t you park on the street?” Jasmine said. “If Mr Griffin returns and there’s not a parking space for his car in the drive, the angels in heaven will have to cover their ears.”
Charlie smiled. “Just gimme a sec, if you don’t mind. Could you leave the gate open for a few more minutes until I get in?”
“I’ll wait for you here.”
Charlie parked down the street. Before he returned to the gate, he followed the fence line to a dense, two-metre-high cedar which grew beside a large stone pillar. He pushed the shrub away from the brickwork. There it was—the gap the boy had told him about. When he returned to the gate, Jasmine had a look of concern on her face.
“You may want to fill in that gap over there,” he said. “Makes it pretty easy for people to break in.”
As they passed through the gates, Jasmine searched through her purse and retrieved her key ring. She pressed a button on a fob and the gates quietly closed behind them.
They walked up to the house and through the front door. Charlie could hear a voice from another room. The person speaking sounded like they were in the midst of a heated discussion. “I don’t care how much it costs. Get it done.”
A man walked into the foyer. He was taller than Charlie, and appeared to be in his mid to late fifties. His salt-and-pepper hair was well-coiffed and suited his handsome face—one that looked like it had seen a fair bit of physical action over the years. The man wore a well-tailored suit over his muscular frame. He could have been a boxer in his earlier years. When he spotted Charlie, his brow furrowed. “Who the hell is this?” he asked Jasmine.
Charlie extended his hand. “Charlie Watts. I work for Declan Hunt. You must be Mr Semple.”
Semple took his hand with a controlled firm grip. Charlie suspected that he could crush his hand if he wanted to.
