Morton took a couple of mouthfuls ofcoffee then opened up his emails. One unread message—from SidneyMersham. The email said simply: Here you go, Morton. Regards,Sid.
Morton grinned when he saw the paperclipicon showing that the email contained an attachment. Being quite a largefile size, it took a moment to load. Eventually the image appeared onscreenand Morton was able to zoom in close to see the features on each of theirfaces. He planned to save the image and later on, maybe tonight whilstwatching television, to digitally annotate who was who. He looked at eachperson in turn—they all held the same po-faced, serious expressions common toportraits of the period. However, there was something else in their eyes,which Morton guessed to be sorrow at one of their friends and fellow servant’sdeaths just six days hitherto. Edward had worked at Blackfriars for threeyears, so his death must have come as quite a shock to them. He noticedthat the man, whom the guidebook had identified as Walter Risler, had abattered nose and a bruised eye. Morton could only speculate as to whathad caused his injuries.
Zooming out and taking the staff in as onegroup of people, Morton could see that they were all standing in hierarchicalorder. Except for one. Mrs Cuff, whom Morton knew to be thehousekeeper and, therefore, the highest-ranking female member of staff, wasstanding at the end of the line of the servants. When taken with the factthat she no longer signed the Day Book following Mary’s disappearance, Mortonbecame curious. Had she put herself at the end of the line, or had shebeen put there? Interesting, Morton thought. Her continuingwages at the level of a housekeeper suggested that she had not been demoted,yet something was amiss.
Whilst he had his emails open, Mortoncomposed a lengthy message to Ray Mercer, outlining the details of the case sofar. He also asked Ray if he knew anything of his grandmother’s visit toCanada in 1925. He held back from mentioning the encounter with DouglasCatt, but did say that he garnered a copy of the letter Mary had apparentlywritten from Scotland. Morton clicked ‘send’ on the email, then turnedhis attention to seeing what he could find about Edith Mercer’s visit toCanada.
He opened up a new web-browser and ran asearch in the 1921 Canadian census for 4 West Street, Halifax. It wasfour years prior to when he wanted, but he reasoned that whomever Edith wasvisiting in 1925 may have been residing there in 1921. Within seconds,Morton had the original census onscreen. Unlike many of the older censusreturns, the 1921 Canadian one was a goldmine for genealogists, asking as itdid thirty-five detailed questions about each individual recorded.
Morton felt a buzz of excitement as hezoomed in for an up-close inspection of the entry. Just one personresided at the house, a lady by the name of Martha Stone. He felt a rushof anticipation as he considered that Martha Stone could be a pseudonym forMary Mercer. Slowly, he moved the cursor along the entry, carefullydeciphering the handwriting as he went. It said that Martha Stone rentedher house, that it was wooden in structure with four rooms. She was thehead of household, aged thirty-one and her birthplace was given as England—thesame place as her mother and father. The year of emigration was given as1911 and she was able to read and write. Her occupation was listed asteacher.
Morton sat up with eagerness. CouldMartha Stone be Mary Mercer? he pondered, as he stared out of thewindow. A solitary figure in a long rain coat, black Panama hat and atemperamental umbrella battled with the rain, which seemed to have grown inferocity, buffeted by a strong wind.
Morton considered the facts. MarthaStone was listed as being three years older than Mary would have been in 1921,but she could easily have lied to the enumerator. The rest of the facts,in particular her year of emigration, tied with Mary Mercer perfectly. Atthe moment, though, he couldn’t be certain that Martha was still resident therein 1925. He added to his list the need to find out whether or notelectoral registers existed for Nova Scotia in 1925.
Outside, the man’s umbrella flipped insideout. He gave up battling the elements and entered The Apothecary.
Morton returned his focus to his laptopscreen. He wanted to find out whether Martha Stone’s census entry wasbacked up with a paper trail in England; if his hunch was correct then therewould be none. She had stated that she was born in England in 1890. Therefore, she should show up on the 1891 and 1901 censuses and possibly eventhe 1911 census. First, he tried the 1891 census: three results forMartha Stone born 1890. The first was born in Birmingham, the second inDerbyshire. To his disappointment, the third was born inWinchelsea. Morton clicked to view the original image. The entrywas for the Stone family: James Stone, head, gardener lived with his wife,Flora, no occupation and their one year old daughter, Martha Stone. Morton moved the cursor to the left of the screen and noticed the address:Peace Cottage, Friar’s
