The Consequences of Fear by Jacqueline Winspear (the best electronic book reader TXT) 📗

“Which book, Gabriella—you have so many books!”

“Mmmmm.”

“Gabriella?”

“Mine. Mmmmm.” With tremendous effort she finished the sentence. “My book.”

Maisie turned as she heard the door open.

“I think that’s enough now.” The sister in charge was not yet frowning, but Maisie thought it would not take much to get onher wrong side. “Time to leave, madam. The patient needs rest.”

“Indeed, thank you, Sister. I was just leaving.” She turned to Hunter, who had opened her eyes. “I’ll come again soon, Gabriella. Now, do as the sister says—rest.” She leaned down and kissed the older woman on the cheek, squeezing her hand as she whispered, “Nice work with the corset.”

As Maisie stood up, Gabriella Hunter managed a wink.

“You can come again tomorrow,” said the ward sister. “But not before two, and only for another five minutes. Patient mightbe a little more with it by then.”

“Don’t underestimate her, Sister,” said Maisie as she passed the senior nurse. “Miss Hunter is more with it than you mightimagine.”

“’Allo, miss.” Billy smiled as he opened the front door of Gabriella Hunter’s house. “Come in.” He stood back to allow Maisieto enter, and pointed to the lock. “Got that mended straightaway—mate of mine is a locksmith and came out quick as a flash.Right then, follow me—she’s in the dining room, with Sandra.”

Sandra was sitting next to Mrs. Towner at the table, a tea tray in front of them and an empty plate in front of the housekeeper.As Sandra greeted Maisie she stood up, stepping aside to allow her employer to take a seat alongside Mrs. Towner.

“Cup of tea, Miss Dobbs?” said Sandra. “I’m making more for Mrs. Towner.”

“Oh lovely, thank you,” said Maisie. “I’m gasping for a cup. Then you must get along to the station, Sandra.”

“Right you are, Miss Dobbs. I won’t be a minute.”

Maisie turned to Mrs. Towner. “It looks like Sandra managed to get you to eat. I’m glad—you need your strength.”

“Made me a nice Welsh rarebit, she did. Lovely girl, that one. She’s been telling me about her little boy—sounds like quite a scamp, but he’s at that age.” Mrs. Towner reached for her teacup. Maisie noticed her hand was shaking. Towner put down the cup without raising it to her lips.

“This has all been a terrible shock for you, Mrs. Towner—but I must ask you some questions while the event is still somewhatfresh in your mind.”

“That’s what the detective said, when he asked me his questions.”

“Yes, it’s when the memories are still most raw, though some things might come back to you later, after you’ve had a goodnight’s sleep. Some of my questions will doubtless be the same.” Maisie allowed a pause. “Mrs. Towner, did you actually seeanyone leaving the house as you returned—perhaps someone on the street who you’re not used to seeing? Or getting into a taxi?”

Towner shook her head. “Nothing. I’ve racked my brains. I remember being in the shop, and when I’d got everything we needed,I walked back. I didn’t really see anyone, except the street sweeper, and then I walked up to the house and, well, you knowthe story from there. That’s when I saw the door had been prised open, so I ran in to find Miss Hunter on the floor, her headlacerated and her face covered in blood.” She pulled a handkerchief from her cardigan sleeve and dabbed her eyes, then pushedthe handkerchief back into the sleeve and pulled the unbuttoned cardigan around her, shivering.

Maisie looked around, but Billy had already stepped forward, holding a blanket. “I put this around her when we got here—shewas in shock, but it comes and goes.”

“Thank you, Billy—shock is like that.”

Sandra returned with the tray and poured two cups of tea, removing the cup from in front of Mrs. Towner. “I’ll just wash thisand get on my way.”

“Lovely—thank you, Sandra. Would you telephone me at the flat when you get home, just so I know you’ve arrived safely?”

Sandra smiled and nodded, turning to Mrs. Towner. “Miss Dobbs likes to keep tabs on us, you know.”

“Thank you, my dear—you’ve been most kind,” said Towner, smiling at Sandra.

Billy accompanied Sandra to the door; Maisie heard voices in the distance as they bid each other good-bye. Yes, she was luckywith her little band; they worked well together.

“The street sweeper—do you know him, Mrs. Towner?”

“Mr. Jeeps? Yes, everyone knows him—very friendly, very nicely mannered, though he can get a bit familiar. You know, withhis betters. Some people think he’s a bit too friendly.”

Maisie suppressed a smile as she moved on to her next question. “Do you think Mr. Jeeps might have seen anything untoward?”

Towner sipped her tea, becoming visibly calmer. “He might well have. I know he works from a depot not far from here.”

“I’ll get Mr. Beale to look into it.” She looked up as Billy returned to the room.

“Got that, miss—I’ll find the depot as soon as we leave here.”

“Thank you, Billy—would you just sit with Mrs. Towner for a while? I’d like to have a look at the study.” She pressed Mrs.Towner’s hand, and as she left the room, she heard Towner asking Billy where in London he was from, and whether his peoplewere in trade.

Gabriella Hunter’s study-cum-library had indeed been turned over, though as Maisie looked around the room she had a feeling that the invader had gone through the drawers and shelves in a systematic manner and only later made the incursion seem more chaotic to give the impression of a random burglary. Had the assailant wished to kill Hunter? Maisie wondered if he or she might have intended only to cause injury, or not expected to encounter her at all. She walked to the window and, reminding herself of the view across the square from that vantage point, considered the possibilities. The assailant could have looked out and seen Mrs. Towner entering the square with her shopping bag, so he knew his time was limited. After breaking in and attacking Hunter, he had not found what he was looking for, and he