I told Hank about this. He raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly.
“Sometimes,” he said, “the phone rings up at the manor house. I pick it up and the line’s dead. Before they cut off the line they had all the latest electronic stuff. It’s probably still there in some room or other.”
I stared at him. “What are you saying? Yousent the text message?”
He shook his head. “I don’t use that stuff. Never learned how. The cell phone’s enough of the devil’s instrument for me.”
“Then—who?” I stared and then opened my mouth. “You mean—?”
He looked at me and shrugged. “Who else?”
“But—but—”
“He was always very clever, that kid. Very tech savvy. He was the one who got me the cell phone, so he could phone me. But I kept it turned off. Didn’t make him very happy. I told him I didn’t like technology.” He shook his head sadly. “Like I said, I didn’t want him to get hung up on me—given the situation, you know.”