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he have any family at all?”

      “I never heard of any, he was a very private man, never said anything about any family, we never knew where he was born or anything about him. He and my father hit it off when they met, they found they had a common aim, and they joined up in a partnership.”

      “That was in Leicester, wasn’t it?”

      “Yes. My father was running a small business from a garage at the time, dealing mainly with repairs of small office machinery and the like. I believe John Accrington turned up originally as a repair man, but he clearly had a penchant for sales and administration.”

      “Office machinery?”

      “That’s how my father started, as computers entered the market many of the old office machines began to disappear, and IBM for one pulled out of typewriters altogether,” said Richard. “Dad took on John and they later became partners, I believe John had some money which he invested in the business at the time, and as time progressed they moved completely into computers and later into software.”

      “Where did John come from?”

      “I don’t know, maybe my father knew, but it was a subject that never came up between me and John. Maybe I should have asked, but I found him to be a somewhat forbidding character, difficult to approach at times. I talked business with him of course, but in the every day round of business discussions I never got around to anything else. Maybe I should have, I might have got to know him better.”

      They reached the village of Pennington and travelled slowly up the main street. Ruddock was struck by the old gabled appearance of so many of the village buildings and felt as if he had gone back in time about 400 years.

      “Nice place to live,” remarked Ruddock.

      “Very rustic, and very historic, that building over there was apparently built in the 1400’s,” said Richard Bilston, indicating a black and white building. “That one over there. . ” he pointed over to the left “…was used as a Roundhead headquarters during the Civil War. The pub has been standing for over 400 years, and parts of the church are said to have been in existence before William the Conqueror arrived.”

      “He certainly selected a beautiful place to live.”

      “And a secluded one,” grunted Richard. “It’s almost a throw back several hundred years, though there are a few new houses appearing here and there, while the railway station is about half a mile away. It’s handy for commuting, but much of the land is private estates and farm land, landed gentry and all that, which prevents too much development.”

      “Maybe that’s why Accrington preferred to extend his house sooner than look for a larger one.”

      “Very likely.”

      Eventually they espied the lane that led to Accrington’s house. The residence was tucked away behind trees, they entered the drive after opening the main gate and proceeded cautiously. The drive was surfaced with gravel, and was lined with small trees. The building came into view and Richard drew up in front of it.

      The house was quite impressive, the facade had a couple of gables and the front door was situated in the middle of the frontage with a covered porch.

      “The frontage was - or is - the original house,” explained Richard after they had alighted and were both leaning on the car roof. He proceeded to give a description of the house and its recent history as far as he knew it. Apparently it was originally erected in the late 1700’s. When Accrington extended it he added onto the rear, which was a local authority requirement who stipulated that the frontage was to remain as it was - a question of maintaining the local architecture. The council were also very particular about the design and materials used for whatever was erected on the rear. The garage was also around the side, almost out of view, it was the original stable that had been modernised inside, though the outer shell retained its original appearance, again a council requirement.

      Ruddock cast his eye over the majestic pile and liked it. He could understand why the late John Accrington would have been loath to move away from the premises. He looked around behind him at the tree covered drive that led to the road and it was idyllic. Through the trees to the right of the driveway he could see the back of a small building, and as he craned his neck he could see that it was facing outwards onto a large green area.

      “That’s the local cricket ground,” said Richard as he observed the direction of Ruddock’s curiosity. “That building is the pavilion. The whole of that field used to be part of John’s property. When the local cricket club lost its ground to developers about 15 years ago, John made this field over to them. He sold it to them for a nominal sum, something like £100 which he then donated back to the club. He loved his cricket, he watched them play almost every week from his upstairs balcony.”

      Ruddock handed Richard Bilston a key. Richard unlocked the front door and stood aside for Ruddock to enter.

      “Where do you want to start, Norman?”

      “Guess his study will be the best bet, what do you reckon?”

      “I agree. OK, let’s have a look.”

      They entered the hall and Ruddock pulled up sharply.

      “What are these doing here?”

      Richard leaned over and scratched his head.

      “Search me!” he said. They both walked up the hall and looked at some chairs that were standing at the back end of the hallway. “From my memory of my last visit these should be in the kitchen, they stood around the kitchen table. What on earth are they doing here?”

      “Very odd,” remarked Ruddock. “Where’s his study, is it through here?”

      “Yes,” Richard pushed the door open. “This is a beautiful room for a man to work in, also with a view of his beloved cricket ground. He told me once that he’d work in here and when he saw the cricketers coming out onto the field he’d go upstairs to his balcony.”

      “Desk looks a bit bare,” commented Ruddock. “I’ve seen his desk at your offices, he had many small mementoes scattered around that one.”

      “That desk at the office is a beauty,” commented Richard. “It’s a very old one too, about 1830s vintage. I understand he bought it at an antique sale many years ago.”

      “How come an article like that turned up in a sale?”

      “It came from a country house when the new owners had to sell a lot of the heirlooms to pay death duties.”

      Richard walked up to the desk and looked puzzled.

      “He used to keep many small mementoes on this one as well,” said Richard, looking around him. “Now this I don’t understand, he used to have a small statuette standing on this side of the desk, he bought it from an antique shop near to the office, cost him a few quid, several hundreds I believe. Where the hell is it?”

      They carried out a cursory search of the room but found nothing. One of the filing cabinets had one of its drawers open and some papers and files were stacked on the couch.

      “Why are these out here?’ asked Ruddock.

      “Somebody’s been in here,” commented Richard, picking up some of them and studying them. “These are company files. I’d better take these back with me, will you need to have them all tagged first?”

      “We’d prefer it,” said Ruddock. “But I’m bothered about this.”

      “It looks to me as if someone has been in here.” suggested Richard.

      “If they have they must have broken in, we’ve got all the keys.”

      They went out into the hallway, on impulse they decided to examine the other downstairs rooms first before heading for Accrington’s bedroom, and in the lounge room at the rear they had a second shock.

      “We’ve had unauthorised visitors.” said

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