‘I have no experience in these matters, sir, but it would seem likely they won’t communicate with us until it is dark.’ He stood before me, not unlike one of the flamingoes I had seen in the lower garden, and every inch of him dedicated to a life of service. Probably he would never see seventy again, but the blue eyes were still alert and clear, and what he lacked in speed he made up in experienced efficiency: a family retainer straight out of Hollywood, almost too genuine to be true.
‘Yeah, I guess you’re right. Looks like a good three-hour wait: probably more.’ I dug out a package of cigarettes. He had a match flame ready before I got the cigarette into my mouth. ‘I didn’t get your name.’
The grizzled eyebrows lifted.
‘Wadlock, sir.’
‘Do you work for Mrs. Dedrick or Mr. Marshland?’
‘Oh, Mr. Marshland, sir. I have been lent to Mrs. Dedrick for the time being, and I am very happy to be of service to her.’
‘Have you been with the family long?’
He smiled benignly.
‘Fifty years, sir. I was with Mr. Marshland senior for twenty years, and I have been with Mr. Marshland junior for thirty years.’
That seemed to put us on a friendly footing, so I asked, ‘You met Mr. Dedrick when he was in New York?’