Mister Ridgewell lived in the biggest house, on the largest plot of land, in the wealthiest county in the United States. He lived in the type of area where you knew the people were rich just by the way the air smelled. Old money with older geezers spending it.
And when I say that he lived there, I really mean he lived. As in... he's very dead now. It happened two days ago, and the news spread like wildfire through Virginia and made it's way up to DC in no time. After all, Ridgewell was a favorite of politicians. He never gave them a dime of his fortune, but they saw it as a challenge to try and squeeze something out of the guy.
He was a recluse, but eccentric man so not many people ever saw him out in public, but there were always rumors that he was always cooking up some crazy experiment on his farm. I had the unique opportunity to have an interview with him just a few months ago, after years of my boss pleading with him. I was the lucky sucker chosen to speak with him.
"Get anything you can outta him, Daniel," Mr. Rockburn had said with a mouth full of cigar, looking like he had just walked out of 1962. Indoor smoking laws apparently didn't apply to the man. "Our magazine is riding on this interview. It's been nearly a decade in the making, and we're the first ones to ever have an interview with him. It has to be perfect!"
"Then why send me?" Is what I thought, but wasn't dumb enough to ask. I did what Rockburn said and showed up the Ridgewell mansion the following day. It went as well as any interview with an ancient, crazy man could go. I was ushered inside by a chipper, yet unnerving-looking butler and sat in a massive sitting room. Ridgewell shuffled in moments later and we sat and spoke about his life and mayonnaise for some reason. The man hates it and thought it important to tell me that several times. He didn't give me much details about his life and family, but it was enough to make an article. Rockburn was pleased and I had another piece to add to my portfolio. Looking back, the interview wasn't that special. Sure, Ridgewell was a bit colorful, but he never went off on insane tangents, or threaten to lock me away like I had heard from the rumors. There were dozens of rumors about him, but I guess now no one will be able to prove any of them true. If he's lucky, Ridgewell will take all his secrets to his grave. Okay, I mean he did, obviously, but hopefully they stay there.