“Finley gave it to Grandpa Connor, said he didn’t want it. Mother gave it to Sammy, but he recently said he did something with it.”
“I hope he didn’t throw it out,” Miss Pinkerton said.
Glory shook her head. “No, he scanned it into some sort of document so he can send it to anyone who’s interested. I’m not up on all the computer terms, but I’ll call and ask him.”
Harry smiled. “I think you mean a PDF document.”
“Yes. He said it contained information about Rupert’s parents and their life in London.” She looked at Harry. “Would you like a copy?”
“If you don’t mind.” He pulled a card from his pocket and held it out to her. “The office email address is on there.”
Her eyes danced with excitement. “Great. Miss Edith is helping me get used to the computer. How will I know if you get it?”
“Bertie and I both have that email on our computers. One of us will send you a reply. Now, do you have any idea where Finley might have gone?”
“Grandpa Connor once said that he talked a lot about the men from Jamaica who dug Rupert’s cellar… always wondered how their lives had turned out.”
“It’s a starting point but, if he changed his name, it might be difficult.”
********************
The doorbell rang and Glory stood up. “Excuse me, while I get that.” She returned several minutes later, looking white as a sheet and a little unsteady on her feet.
Fearing she might fall, Harry jumped to his feet and led her to her chair.
Miss Pinkerton rose and picked up Glory’s cup, urging her to take a sip of tea. “Glory, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I rather think she did. Sorry.”
Harry and Miss Pinkerton both looked up, realizing that a strange man had entered the room behind Glory. Average height, slim, well-dressed.
“And you are?” Harry asked.
“If I’d known my appearance would be such a shock, I’d have called first.”
Harry drew his eyebrows down, glaring at the man, and there was a thinly-veiled hint of anger in his voice. “I repeat… who are you?”
He held out his hand. “Rupert Jonah Burton… the third I guess, but that probably means nothing, since the first two are deceased.”
Miss Pinkerton dropped back into her chair. Harry remained standing, though he could see that Glory’s colour was returning. “And we’re supposed to take your word for that?”
Glory was shaking her head. “It’s true. He’s the spitting image of the first Rupert.”
“How could you know that?” Miss Pinkerton asked. “You never saw him.”
“The painting in the London Inn. Grandpa Connor did it from memory about ten years after the old man’s death. Gramma Sally said it was exactly like him.” Glory looked at Burton. “Would you like tea or coffee?”
