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

“The first thing I’ve got to tell you is that Mr. Scott has been on the blower time and again, looking for you. He thoughtyou were going to be at your flat, and had dinner on the go and everything, and now he’s a bit, you know, upset about it.”

“Oh dear, I completely forgot.”

“I’d say you’re in a bit of a pickle there, miss. You’ve blotted your copybook, and it’s not as if you can buy a bunch of flowers to say sorry to a bloke, is it? Anyway, I told him I was bound to hear from you this evening, and I’d get you to telephone him at your flat, which is where he’s going to wait. And he said, ‘Lucky you, knowing you’d get a call.’ ”

“I’ll telephone him as soon as I’ve spoken to Anna.” Maisie rubbed her forehead. “Anyway, that aside, have you made progresstoday?”

“I’m seeing my mate tomorrow morning, the one who knows a bit more about the Free French, and he said he’s got something onFreddie’s dad too. It took a while, what with one thing and another. He was in a telephone box and didn’t have enough money;said he had to get going. Drives me mad, that sort of thing, because I wanted him to tell me what he had there and then. Anyway,I’ll be seeing him in a caff just off Fleet Street.”

“Frustrating. Very frustrating. I’ll meet you in the office after you’ve seen him. All right?”

“Before you go, miss—I’ve got one more thing for you.”

“Yes—what is it, Billy?”

“The street sweeper, Mr. Jeeps. Nice bloke, though he’s a bit of a talker—probably down to spending all that time alone cleaningthe streets, because he likes to have a chat. Anyway, he didn’t see anyone coming or going from Miss Hunter’s house, and theonly other person he saw in the square asked him the way to the tube station. Young bloke, twenty-five-ish, looked like astudent, had one of them scarves with the long stripes that students wear. Had a book or two under his arm, wore spectacles.That was all Jeeps could tell me.”

Maisie sighed. “I’d put money on that being the attacker, and sticking around after the event.”

“Me too.”

“Thanks, Billy. I’ll see you in the office—about half past ten, do you think?”

“Yes, miss. I’ll be there. And don’t forget to telephone that Yank. He’s like a blimmin’ terrier with a bone, I’ll give him that.”

“Maisie, before you do anything else, you must ring your flat, because if I have to run to the library telephone one moretime this evening, only to find it’s Clark Gable looking for you, I think I will just let him have a piece of my mind andwith both barrels.”

“Oh, Brenda, I am sorry—I forgot he was coming over and I’ve been caught up. Caught out, more like, because I won’t be returningto the flat this evening.”

“Well, where are you then?”

“I’m safe and with a client—a lady who’s connected to another client. It became late and she offered me her guest room, whichmeant I didn’t have to find my way home through the blackout.”

“Hmmph—perhaps Mr. Scott has good reason to get a bit upset then.”

“Brenda—can you put Anna on, please?”

“Look, Maisie, sorry if I was a bit sharp, but I’ve said it before, that when you’re in the midst of a case, you do remindme of Dr. Blanche at times. I’m now starting to feel a bit sorry for Mr. Scott. He’s a very nice man, after all.”

Maisie raised her eyebrows. “You’ve changed your tune.”

“No, I always thought he was nice and he’s good to you and Anna. I’d just like to see a bit more, you know—”

“I’ll telephone him as soon as I’ve spoken to Anna.”

“Maisie?”

“Yes, it’s me, Mark—I am so terribly sorry, I have been incredibly—”

“Incredibly what? I’m the one who’s been incredibly worried, Maisie. You could have been dead under a bombed-out building somewhere, and how would I ever know? How would anyone get in touch with me if you were in a hospital somewhere, fighting for your life?”

“Mark, this is not like you. We are both working on sensitive . . . sensitive remits, and I always thought we accepted itas it is.”

“Well, I don’t know about that anymore. Maybe the sensitive thing around here is me, because I’ve been doing a lot of thinkingabout it all, and I reckon it’s time some big decisions were made. We can’t go on like this, Maisie.”

Maisie placed her hand on her chest, feeling her heart begin to beat faster. So, this was it. She should have known it wasall too good to be true. She should have realized that she would lose this man who she believed had loved her, who seemedto adore her daughter and respected her parents, even putting up with ways that must have seemed so strange to him. Now shehad to accept that they’d had a good run, and though she loved him, it had come to this. He wouldn’t be the first man who’dhad trouble with the nature of her work.

“Yes, I think you’re right, Mark. We can’t go on like this.” She paused. “Look, I’ll be back in London tomorrow morning. Perhapswe can have one last dinner together—but I have to go now, and—”

“A last dinner? Maisie? I know you’re listening, but I’m not sure you’re hearing me.”

“All right, if you don’t want to, again, I understand. Perhaps it really is too much to ask of you. Anyway, I’ll be at theflat tomorrow evening. Good night.”

Maisie quickly replaced the receiver before Mark Scott could say more, but remained standing by the telephone until therewas a knock on the door.

“Everything all right, Maisie?” Joan Hillman cracked the door just enough to see her guest. “There’s supper and a nice glass of chilled sauternes on the table.” She stopped speaking, studied Maisie and then continued. “I know that expression—only a man could cause a woman to look like that. Come on, let’s get stuck into the whole bloody bottle. Women of our vintage