A quick phone call to the Scarborough council offices that afternoon informed Benjamin that no council workers had been on Headley View in the previous few weeks. A lady, Anna, told him they cut the grass up there but once a month and did little else, seeing as hardly anyone visited it anymore.
"Such a shame. It's a great little spot, Sir. Wonderful views of the sea," she said. "Or so I'm told."
The same afternoon, Benjamin went to the office of Matthias Biltcliffe.
"What do you know about the bridge builder of Arta?" he asked him.
Matthias had studied in Paris and at the London School of Architecture. If anyone would know, he would.
"I'm sorry, I have to be on the other side of town for a meeting, Benjamin. I presume you're asking because of the statues?"
The question took Benjamin aback.
"The statues?"
"Yes, I've seen you heading up those steps to Headley View. I used to go up there myself years ago."
Benjamin followed Matthias as he left his office and headed for the front door to leave.
"What's the story about those statues, Matthias? It seems a mighty peculiar location for such a pair of sculptures, don't you think?"
Matthias, hat now on head, turned to Benjamin as he held the door ajar, the racket of the crowded streets flooding into Garner & Sons, usually an oasis of quiet.
"I don't know who the bridge builder of Arta was, Benjamin. I do know a man called Harold Overton commissioned the statues. He was a local man and quite a character. Died when I was just a boy. I remember the crowds that turned out for his funeral. Anyway, I dare say he has relatives still in the town. You might want to speak with them."
And with that, he bade Benjamin goodbye and stepped out into the street.
Matthias was right. Harold Overton had commissioned the statues. Benjamin discovered that much when he returned to the county library. Overton had died in 1904 at the age of eighty-six, some twenty-five years after the statues were unveiled. He had one son still living in the town - Wilbur Overton. According to the clipping Benjamin found from the now-defunct Scarborough Sentinel, Wilbur was forty-three on the day of his father's funeral. He would now be over sixty. With so little time available to him outside his duties for Garner & Sons, Benjamin knew he'd have to wait a while before making Wilbur Overton's acquaintance. His curiosity for the statues, however, diminished little as the summer passed.