Coffin said he knew Mr. Lathom quite well by sight, having met him from time to time in the public-house when having a friendly glass. He had never seen him in the Five-Acre Wood but once, and that was with Mr. Harrison, about a week before the latter’s death. His own work had lain in and about the Five-Acre during the first fortnight of October—he was employed by Mr. Carey—all this round here was Mr. Carey’s land—and he thought he should have seen Mr. Lathom if he had come there alone at any time.
Having thanked and rewarded Coffin, I made my way to The Shack. Except for the removal of the bedclothes and other objects required for the inquest it was exactly as it had been left at the time of the death. The broken bedstead, with its terrible witness to my poor father’s death-agony, still stood in a corner of the bedroom. Even Lathom’s painting materials lay huddled in a corner. I suppose he had forgotten to remove them. A few roughly-daubed canvases in oil contrasted strongly with my father’s delicate watercolours, of which I found a number put away in a drawer. Dust had gathered thickly everywhere.
I made a careful search on shelves and in drawers for any notes or papers that might throw light on my problem, but found nothing except a few bills and the last letter my father had received from me. There were one or two novels, a number of local guidebooks and botanical books of reference, and some artist’s catalogues. Delving among these, I at length came on a large-scale map of the district, with notes upon it in my father’s handwriting. He had apparently used it as a kind of botanical chart, marking on it the localities in which various plants and fungi were to be found. Five-Acre Wood was clearly shown, and upon it my father had made a small cross accompanied by the note “ Amanita rubescens .” I looked for any mention of Amanita muscaria , but could see none; either my father had not found it in the district, or else he had concerned himself with edible varieties only.