Free Anna Jacobs by An Independent Woman Page B

row of seven dwellings, a two-storey place, its windows dull and its garden untended. The garden went round the side and rear as well as at the front.
    “Well built,” Justin said, “and has an extra room at the rear, I see. But like the others, it needs a coat of paint and some maintenance work.”
    As they walked down the path, a woman came out of the next cottage and hurried across to them. Justin raised his bowler hat, murmuring to Serena, “Always useful to get on good terms with the neighbours. Good day to you, ma’am.”
    “If you’ve come to see the old lady, she died two months ago.”
    “Yes, we know. This is Miss Fleming, the owner.”
    “I’m Mrs Diggle.” She frowned at Serena. “They said the house had been sold to Mr Hammerton.”
    “No. He may have wanted to buy it, but Miss Fleming doesn’t wish to sell.”
    Serena held out her hand. “How do you do. I’m very pleased to meet you, Mrs Diggle.”
    The woman looked down at her hand, which was covered in flour. “Better not shake hands, miss. I’ll only dirty your gloves.”
    “Do you happen to know where the spare key is kept?” Justin asked.
    She looked at him, suspicious again. “Don’t you have a door key?”
    “Mr Hammerton has taken it, apparently. I’m Miss Fleming’s lawyer and my client wished to see the property so I came with her.” He fished in his pocket and pulled out a card, handing it to Mrs Diggle with a flourish.
    She read it carefully before nodding, as if he’d passed a test. “Well, there’s a spare key on the lintel above the back door. The same one opens both the front and the back doors. I used to pop in and help the old lady out towards the end, but she didn’t like to leave the front door open when she was lying in bed upstairs, so I always went in the back way and so did the District Nurse.”
    “You sound to have been a good neighbour.”
    “It’s a poor sort of person who can’t help their fellow human beings.” She took a step backwards. “Well, I’ll leave you to look round, then. It’s strange though, I was sure they said it had already been sold and I don’t usually make mistakes. Anyway, if you need to know anything, just knock on my door.” She nodded and went back inside the house next door.
    Justin watched her go with a frown. “I’ll look into the question of whether or not it’s been sold, Miss Fleming. I doubt he can have legally sold it without your permission and signature.”
    “He sold the others cottages. And I never signed anything then.”
    “That’s on my list for investigation as well, believe me.”
    They walked round the back and found the key exactly where Mrs Diggle had said. Justin handed it to Serena with a flourish. “You should do the honours.”
    She turned the key in the lock and opened the door. The narrow passage revealed a coal store and a cupboard for household equipment then led into a large scullery, where a slopstone sat under a dripping tap and a boiler for washing clothes occupied one corner, with black marks from countless fires beneath it. From there they went into the kitchen. 
    “It seems still to be furnished,” Justin remarked, as they stood looking round. “I wonder if the furniture belongs to you now?”
    “That would be very convenient.”
    A scrubbed wooden table took pride of place, and there were three pans hanging up, dull brasses on the wall beside the kitchen stove and dusty crockery on the dresser. It was cold inside and yet there was a cosy feel to it, as if someone had been happy here.
    Serena walked through into the next room, which had an air of having been long unused, though it was furnished as a dining-room. There was no corridor. It led directly into the front room, a parlour which had the main door in one corner, opening straight into a small porch. Old-fashioned furniture and ornaments filled the room so that there was only a narrow path through to the door.
    When Justin joined her, he said, “I was investigating the