Part 3: The Mystery of Mr Emerson Jones

He took me up a narrow winding road in McMahons Point into a little lane to stand in front of a small picket fence and an old large red-bricked terrace home. Beaming at me from above, he unlatched the gate and gestured for me to walk up the tiny stairs towards the red door with a large brass door knocker.

He ignored the door knocker and gave the red door three loud raps with his knuckles. "Oh, the door knocker is just for brass and pomp. For the initiated, three raps at the front door is all we need.”

As he finished his sentence, the door opened to reveal an older man in a three-piece suit. "Good afternoon Emerson, you've returned with a guest. Shall I put the pot on? Royal Albert or Doulton? TWG or Palais Des Thes?"

"Good questions, Edmund. Well. For the lady, the cherry blossom Doulton set and the Palaise Des Thes, the Du Lourve. And just the usual for me. We will retire to grandfather's study,” he replied.

Edmund nodded and moved silently down the hallway.

Leaning towards my ear, Emerson whispered. "Edmund has been our housekeeper with grandfather for decades. Grandfather promised him he'd work under our care for life and we will keep his word.”

He motioned for me to follow him down the cranberry carpeted hallway towards a door that was slightly ajar. "This is where grandfather worked. He was a barrister and he met with many clients like your grandfather", he told me quietly as if attempting to gauge my reaction favourable or otherwise and follow the flow.

I paused. "What kind of legal work did your grandfather specialise in?"

"Criminal law" was his reply.

I placed both my hands to my mouth in shock and disbelief. Oh oh oh.