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The Missing
“You look fresh”, said Arden to Leigh who was waiting at a corner table in Fely’s Corner as Arden had asked her to. He was a couple of minutes late to his own appointment.
“For half past six in the morning?”, said DI Leigh Herstinn.
Arden gave a sly grin to her remark as he took a seat in front of her. Despite the time, people were presently seated at the motel. Water and beverages were available to them. Breakfast would start soon as the customers, many of whom were travellers, started filling in. This was one of the few places Arden knew would be open at the hour.
“Sorry, Leigh. I’m packed for the rest of the day. It was the only time I could arrange”, he said.
“Don’t start being formal”, she waved him off, “These are the details of the case in Pereigns you asked for.”
She put a file on the table and started,
“On Thursday, the missing of Mr. Oaken Richwood was reported. He was a retired bank manager in his sixties, widowed. Lived alone at 51/C, Austen Street. A housemaid, Rita Ferrel, was employed. She came to work on Thursday at her usual time, between nine to nine-thirty and found the house locked…”
“From the outside?”, he interrupted.
“Yeah. The maid said in her account that she found it very ‘odd’. She had known very few of him leaving the house and on the rare occasions that he did, he informed her beforehand so she need not come. The only time he left his house was for his walk in the evening. Never in the morning, she stated. The neighbours agree to this claim.”
Arden listened carefully, invested in the details that he had asked for after reading about the incident in the papers. Leigh and he had been in a surveillance course together. Leigh chose the executive force later while Arden stayed independent with his own practice. Their different streams have helped them both on occasions in the past collectively.
“Now the interesting part. A man, an old friend of Mr Richwood, Duane Mural, had come to visit Richwood a week ago and was staying at the house. This fellow was a trouble. The maid said that Richwood was happy to see his friend upon his arrival but things turned for worse after that. Richwood was in a bad temper often and seemed distressed. According to the maid, some days after his arrival, the men had a severe row amongst themselves.”
“So the police suspect this friend, Mural, to do something with the disappearance?”, asked Arden.
Leigh nodded.
“Not the housemaid?”
“Initially, we did. But”, Leigh replied, "we made inquiries about this man and found out he was staying at a local inn, Third Deer. When we went there, the owner said that he left on Wednesday evening. Now, he’s nowhere to be found.”
Arden did not say anything for some time after Leigh had finished. Then, his expression changed from attentive to cheerful one.
“Thank you. Do you want breakfast?”, he said leaning back.
Leigh, who was familiar with his ways, paid no heed to this change of tone. She simply said,
“No. I’ll go now, I think”
With that, she got up, taking the file and moved to the door which led her out of the motel. Arden remained in his seat, thinking about and around the case facts which he had just absorbed. After thinking for a stretch, he ordered breakfast and started with his busy schedule for the day. The reason for his meeting so early was that he had to go to the bank in the morning half and then tail a person requested by his client. He did not get off his schedule for until after eight in the evening when he could turn his thoughts back to the missing person in Pereigns.
Once seated in an armchair in his room, he called Leigh.
“I’m thinking of interviewing the maid, Rita Ferrel. Can you give me the address and number?”
“I’ll text them to you”, she said and hung up the phone.
Arden sat in a comfortable chair with his notebook turned to a fresh page and recalled the case narrated to him in the morning. He made certain notes while sunken in his trail of thoughts. His phone gave a beep which turned his attention to the number and address sent by Leigh. Rita Ferrel lived in Cadleworth Lane, a few minutes from Austen Street. He called her number. She didn’t pick up on the first ring but answered the second.
“This is private detective, Arden Hull, speaking. I would like to meet...
“For half past six in the morning?”, said DI Leigh Herstinn.
Arden gave a sly grin to her remark as he took a seat in front of her. Despite the time, people were presently seated at the motel. Water and beverages were available to them. Breakfast would start soon as the customers, many of whom were travellers, started filling in. This was one of the few places Arden knew would be open at the hour.
“Sorry, Leigh. I’m packed for the rest of the day. It was the only time I could arrange”, he said.
“Don’t start being formal”, she waved him off, “These are the details of the case in Pereigns you asked for.”
She put a file on the table and started,
“On Thursday, the missing of Mr. Oaken Richwood was reported. He was a retired bank manager in his sixties, widowed. Lived alone at 51/C, Austen Street. A housemaid, Rita Ferrel, was employed. She came to work on Thursday at her usual time, between nine to nine-thirty and found the house locked…”
“From the outside?”, he interrupted.
“Yeah. The maid said in her account that she found it very ‘odd’. She had known very few of him leaving the house and on the rare occasions that he did, he informed her beforehand so she need not come. The only time he left his house was for his walk in the evening. Never in the morning, she stated. The neighbours agree to this claim.”
Arden listened carefully, invested in the details that he had asked for after reading about the incident in the papers. Leigh and he had been in a surveillance course together. Leigh chose the executive force later while Arden stayed independent with his own practice. Their different streams have helped them both on occasions in the past collectively.
“Now the interesting part. A man, an old friend of Mr Richwood, Duane Mural, had come to visit Richwood a week ago and was staying at the house. This fellow was a trouble. The maid said that Richwood was happy to see his friend upon his arrival but things turned for worse after that. Richwood was in a bad temper often and seemed distressed. According to the maid, some days after his arrival, the men had a severe row amongst themselves.”
“So the police suspect this friend, Mural, to do something with the disappearance?”, asked Arden.
Leigh nodded.
“Not the housemaid?”
“Initially, we did. But”, Leigh replied, "we made inquiries about this man and found out he was staying at a local inn, Third Deer. When we went there, the owner said that he left on Wednesday evening. Now, he’s nowhere to be found.”
Arden did not say anything for some time after Leigh had finished. Then, his expression changed from attentive to cheerful one.
“Thank you. Do you want breakfast?”, he said leaning back.
Leigh, who was familiar with his ways, paid no heed to this change of tone. She simply said,
“No. I’ll go now, I think”
With that, she got up, taking the file and moved to the door which led her out of the motel. Arden remained in his seat, thinking about and around the case facts which he had just absorbed. After thinking for a stretch, he ordered breakfast and started with his busy schedule for the day. The reason for his meeting so early was that he had to go to the bank in the morning half and then tail a person requested by his client. He did not get off his schedule for until after eight in the evening when he could turn his thoughts back to the missing person in Pereigns.
Once seated in an armchair in his room, he called Leigh.
“I’m thinking of interviewing the maid, Rita Ferrel. Can you give me the address and number?”
“I’ll text them to you”, she said and hung up the phone.
Arden sat in a comfortable chair with his notebook turned to a fresh page and recalled the case narrated to him in the morning. He made certain notes while sunken in his trail of thoughts. His phone gave a beep which turned his attention to the number and address sent by Leigh. Rita Ferrel lived in Cadleworth Lane, a few minutes from Austen Street. He called her number. She didn’t pick up on the first ring but answered the second.
“This is private detective, Arden Hull, speaking. I would like to meet...
