The Consequences of Fear Jacqueline Winspear (i can read book club .txt) 📖

to see. “And a navy blue hat with a pale blue band. They’ll be with you in about fifteen minutes and will look after you.”

“Thank you, Miss Dobbs.”

“And Caldwell didn’t leave a policeman with you?”

“He said he would normally do that, but he’s short-staffed.”

“Yes, that’s right. Anyway, Billy and Sandra will be with you very soon.” Maisie replaced the receiver. “Right—you heard allthat—you know what to do.” She scribbled the Mecklenburgh Square address on a scrap of paper, passing it to Sandra. “And havea look around to see if you can find anything else the police might have missed.” She was already at the door, Billy and Sandrabehind her.

“Why do you think someone picked on Miss Hunter, miss?” said Billy, as they hurried down the stairs.

Maisie opened the front door, turning to Billy and Sandra. “Gabriella Hunter is no ordinary lady. She was an agent duringand immediately after the last war, and she knows much, much more than anyone might imagine. More to the point, she was findingout a few things for me, getting in touch with some very well-informed old contacts—and of course, she has her own experienceto draw upon.” She looked at her watch. “I’ll see you at Miss Hunter’s house as soon as I’ve finished at the hospital. AndSandra, you must catch your train home directly poor Mrs. Towner is settled and safe. In the meantime, I’ll leave it to youtwo to decide if she should go to an hotel.”

At Tottenham Court Road, Billy hailed a taxicab.

“You two go first, Billy,” said Maisie. “I’ll get the next one along.”

Billy opened the door for Sandra to climb aboard, but just before he stepped into the taxicab, he looked back at Maisie. “Grayishblond?”

Billy had just slammed the door behind him and Maisie was raising her hand to hail the next taxicab on Tottenham Court Road when a black Invicta motor car pulled up alongside her. The back window wound down.

“Miss Dobbs—I was just coming to pay you a visit. And I bet I know where you’re going. Come on—I’ll run you over there.”

It was clear from Caldwell’s tone that even if she had wanted to decline, this was an order. The passenger door was barelyclosed before the Invicta pulled away from the curb, alarm bells ringing as the driver negotiated busy streets at speed towardthe hospital.

“Right then.” Caldwell gave Maisie a pointed look. “We’ve got about five minutes. How about telling me what’s going on.”

Maisie looked out of the window, then back at Caldwell. “I can tell you some things, but I will have to leave gaps.”

“Hush-hush work and all that, Miss Dobbs?” Caldwell gave a half-laugh. “Always the way these days, isn’t it?”

Maisie nodded.

“Right then, just tell me what you can. By the time we get over to the hospital, this could be a murder case anyway.”

Maisie felt the air leave her lungs, so she placed both hands against her chest and began to tell Caldwell the story of GabriellaHunter, but with those details that might be of most interest to him edited with care.

 

“I’m afraid she’s very poorly, though she has regained consciousness. At her age . . .” The registrar—the most senior doctor on duty in the ward—consulted his notes as he briefed Caldwell and Maisie outside Gabriella Hunter’s private room. “Sixty-one—she seems fit other than a nasty hip, which I must say flummoxes me as it appears to have been caused by a bullet wound a number of years ago, and she has another similar wound on her upper arm.” He looked up. “Any ideas how she might have sustained those two?”

Caldwell looked at Maisie and raised an eyebrow. “Miss Dobbs?”

“She was in France during the last war,” said Maisie.

The doctor looked from Maisie to Caldwell and back to Maisie again, then smiled as if he had at once seen the funny side ofa joke. “Oh, right then. Anyway, she has suffered a serious concussion. Even though she’s come round, she won’t be ‘all there’when you go in—and I must insist upon no longer than five minutes.”

“Her other injuries?” asked Maisie.

“Bruising to the cheeks, and there was an attempt to take her life with a blade, but it seems not to have penetrated too far,given that she was wearing some sort of protective shield under her blouse. Her housekeeper apparently told the ambulancemen that it was a special corset for her back.” He stopped as if to gauge Maisie’s reaction to his revelation. “Perhaps shehad to watch her back too, do you think?”

“It’s entirely possible,” said Maisie, acknowledging the inference. “But it seems there was clearly an attempt to kill her,not just frighten her.”

“That’s for you people to decide, but yes, I’d say someone wanted to finish her off. You will see we’ve had to shave her headto stitch up a nasty cut where she was hit with something sharp.”

“Can she see visitors now?” asked Caldwell, who had taken on a distinct pallor.

“Five minutes. Sister will be in to collar you if you are a second over. A word of caution, though—do not try to test yourauthority with our ward sister, otherwise you might find yourself being trepanned.”

Caldwell did not follow as Maisie opened the door to the hospital room, explaining that he had a few more questions for the doctor. She walked straight to the side of the bed and reached for Gabriella Hunter’s hand.

“Gabriella. Gabriella, it’s me—Maisie.”

She watched as the closed eyelids flickered; Hunter was trying to open her eyes.

“Squeeze my hand if you can hear me,” said Maisie, feeling the pressure as Hunter increased an otherwise loose grip.

“Do you know who did this to you?”

Hunter moved her head in a shallow nod.

“Was it the man with a scar?”

A slight frown formed across Hunter’s forehead.

“Or long lines down the cheeks?”

Hunter made the barest movement of her head from side to side. No.

“Gabriella, what were they looking for?”

A smile crossed the woman’s face, and she tried to speak. Maisie leaned in so her ear was close to Hunter’s mouth.

“M . . . m . . . Maurice.”

Maisie looked up. “Maurice?”

Hunter