did you do to it?”
Pru raised an eyebrow. She’d had only two days, after all. “I cleared out the entire back of ivy and planted all the pots on the terrace in two days—to get it ready for Mrs. Wilson’s luncheon yesterday.”
“An entire garden renovation in two days?” Pearse asked.
Pru’s eyes narrowed. Was he making fun of her? “I don’t do instant makeovers,” she said. “It’s a start on a larger project.”
Mrs. Wilson brought their attention back to the murder victim. “Harry, you showed Jeremy the mosaic Pru found in the shed?” Then she said to Pearse, “When I told Harry on the phone about the Roman tiles, he was very excited, and that’s why he and Jeremy wanted to come back. I hope that Jeremy got a good look at them before …”
Mr. Wilson set his cup down with a clatter. “Yes, Vernona, he did get to see them. You see, Inspector, Jeremy would have been very interested in any Roman ruins found here, as that was one of our main interests. We’ve been down to Fishbourne many times, studying what they’ve found, and we go off on amateur digs, helping out the professionals from time to time.”
“Would he have wanted to dig up the back garden? Excavate the whole area?”asked Pru. She had a fleeting thought of her garden design. “Or maybe he would’ve sold the house?”
“Oh, no, dear,” Mrs. Wilson said, “Jeremy doesn’t own this house. No one owns anything around here except the earl.”
Outside the window, movement caught their attention, and they all turned to see the body, zipped up in a bag and laid out on a stretcher, being carried out of the shed, up to the back door. They heard the procession come into the hall, and saw it pass straight to the front door.
“Ms. Parke, would you take me out and show me these tiles?” asked Pearse. Pru felt sure he’d already been out to see the mosaic and hoped he wouldn’t take this opportunity to accuse her of jeopardizing artifacts from ancient Rome, too.
As they walked out, Pearse exchanged bits of information with some of his workers. Then he said to Pru quietly, “The earl Mrs. Wilson mentioned is the Earl of Cadogan. He owns much of Chelsea and Kensington. Most people just let from him.”
That’s a lot of rent to collect,
thought Pru. Pearse continued, “Fishbourne is down in Sussex, a Roman palace …”
“With a garden,” Pru interrupted him. “Parts of Fishbourne were discovered in about 1830, but nothing much was done until the 1960s. When they excavated, they discovered not just the palace, but the garden, too. The Romans brought ornamental gardening to England, and at Fishbourne they found the outlines of the original garden, then planted it up with boxwood hedges and fruit trees, modeled on the way that Pliny described his own first-century garden and the way Fishbourne might have looked.”
Pru realized she’d started to lecture, but she felt as if she needed to show Pearse that she knew something about the country. He had stopped and listened to her without interrupting. She shrugged. “I’ve been to see it. It’s amazing.”
She stopped at the door of the shed; Pearse stepped in and turned back to her. “If you could just be careful where you step.” She had trampled much of the crime scene already, so she picked her way in delicately.
Inside, battery-powered lights had been clipped up so that everyone could see everything, including the large, dark bloodstain on the ground, just next to where Pru had uncovered the tiles. She looked away and brushed off her bottom, praying she didn’t have any spots of blood on her trousers from Jeremy’s body.
“The soil was loose there”—she gestured without looking—“and I dug down about a foot and hit something hard. I wanted to find out if there was a foundation for the shed, in case the Wilsons wanted a barbecue out here. It was easy to dig a wide enough hole, and I saw the mosaic, little black and white tiles, and some red ones, too. I
Pru raised an eyebrow. She’d had only two days, after all. “I cleared out the entire back of ivy and planted all the pots on the terrace in two days—to get it ready for Mrs. Wilson’s luncheon yesterday.”
“An entire garden renovation in two days?” Pearse asked.
Pru’s eyes narrowed. Was he making fun of her? “I don’t do instant makeovers,” she said. “It’s a start on a larger project.”
Mrs. Wilson brought their attention back to the murder victim. “Harry, you showed Jeremy the mosaic Pru found in the shed?” Then she said to Pearse, “When I told Harry on the phone about the Roman tiles, he was very excited, and that’s why he and Jeremy wanted to come back. I hope that Jeremy got a good look at them before …”
Mr. Wilson set his cup down with a clatter. “Yes, Vernona, he did get to see them. You see, Inspector, Jeremy would have been very interested in any Roman ruins found here, as that was one of our main interests. We’ve been down to Fishbourne many times, studying what they’ve found, and we go off on amateur digs, helping out the professionals from time to time.”
“Would he have wanted to dig up the back garden? Excavate the whole area?”asked Pru. She had a fleeting thought of her garden design. “Or maybe he would’ve sold the house?”
“Oh, no, dear,” Mrs. Wilson said, “Jeremy doesn’t own this house. No one owns anything around here except the earl.”
Outside the window, movement caught their attention, and they all turned to see the body, zipped up in a bag and laid out on a stretcher, being carried out of the shed, up to the back door. They heard the procession come into the hall, and saw it pass straight to the front door.
“Ms. Parke, would you take me out and show me these tiles?” asked Pearse. Pru felt sure he’d already been out to see the mosaic and hoped he wouldn’t take this opportunity to accuse her of jeopardizing artifacts from ancient Rome, too.
As they walked out, Pearse exchanged bits of information with some of his workers. Then he said to Pru quietly, “The earl Mrs. Wilson mentioned is the Earl of Cadogan. He owns much of Chelsea and Kensington. Most people just let from him.”
That’s a lot of rent to collect,
thought Pru. Pearse continued, “Fishbourne is down in Sussex, a Roman palace …”
“With a garden,” Pru interrupted him. “Parts of Fishbourne were discovered in about 1830, but nothing much was done until the 1960s. When they excavated, they discovered not just the palace, but the garden, too. The Romans brought ornamental gardening to England, and at Fishbourne they found the outlines of the original garden, then planted it up with boxwood hedges and fruit trees, modeled on the way that Pliny described his own first-century garden and the way Fishbourne might have looked.”
Pru realized she’d started to lecture, but she felt as if she needed to show Pearse that she knew something about the country. He had stopped and listened to her without interrupting. She shrugged. “I’ve been to see it. It’s amazing.”
She stopped at the door of the shed; Pearse stepped in and turned back to her. “If you could just be careful where you step.” She had trampled much of the crime scene already, so she picked her way in delicately.
Inside, battery-powered lights had been clipped up so that everyone could see everything, including the large, dark bloodstain on the ground, just next to where Pru had uncovered the tiles. She looked away and brushed off her bottom, praying she didn’t have any spots of blood on her trousers from Jeremy’s body.
“The soil was loose there”—she gestured without looking—“and I dug down about a foot and hit something hard. I wanted to find out if there was a foundation for the shed, in case the Wilsons wanted a barbecue out here. It was easy to dig a wide enough hole, and I saw the mosaic, little black and white tiles, and some red ones, too. I
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