Anne Belinda by Patricia Wentworth Read Free Book Online Page A

Jones rang up every day and got the news, and he hoped she’d be better soon.”
    John was recalling what Lewis Smith had said—Sir Anthony had altered his will within a month of the wedding; just before the wedding he was talking kindly and naturally of Anne; and then within a week or two her name was not to be mentioned, and he had altered his will. He frowned at the primroses and let fall the last tiny splinter of wood.
    Delia had come closer.
    â€œHe said they rang up every day. He wasn’t telling lies, poor old man; he really thought they did. But they didn’t.”
    â€œHow do you know?” said John sharply.
    â€œYou won’t tell anyone? I should hate to get Mrs. Mellow into trouble. She’s at the post-office. And she’s a friend of mine, and I was having tea with her, and I said I expected that all those calls to London must give her a lot extra to do. And she said, ‘What calls?’ So I said, ‘Isn’t Miss Jenifer having a lot of London calls just now?’ And she just laughed and said, ‘Well, there was one about her wedding dress Tuesday, and one about a lot of business Thursday. But that’s not going to worry me, my dear!’ So I said, ‘Doesn’t she ring up a lot about Miss Anne?’ And Mrs. Mellow said, ‘No, my dear, she don’t—and that’s a fact. She don’t ring up at all—not anything to do with Miss Anne, she don’t. So I take it there isn’t much amiss.’” Delia looked at him anxiously. “Look here, you’ll be sure not to repeat that, because she’s not supposed to talk about anything like that, and she might get into trouble.”
    John nodded impatiently.
    â€œShe told me one thing more,” said Delia. “She told me there’d been a letter from Anne that morning—a proper letter, addressed in ink.”
    â€œHow did she know?”
    â€œWhy, of course she knows Anne’s writing. She’s been postmistress for twenty years; she knows everybody’s writing. She said there was a letter from Anne. And she said it wasn’t the first. But she said they weren’t any of them addressed to Jenny.”
    â€œWho were they addressed to?”
    â€œThey were all addressed to Mrs. Jones,” said Delia.

CHAPTER VI
    John came away from Waveney with Mrs. Jones’ address in his pocket. He wasn’t quite sure what to do about Mrs. Jones. It was obvious that she knew something—probable, in fact, that she could tell him everything that he wanted to know. But the more he thought about it, the less likely did it seem that he, a total stranger, would be able to induce her to say a single word. The thing wanted thinking over, and he made up his mind to sleep on it.
    When he got to his hotel, he was informed that he had been twice called on the telephone. The second time a message had been left—Would he call up Horsham ooo as soon as he came in?
    He went straight to the telephone box and gave the number. Whilst he waited to get through, he wondered idly who had been calling him. He had never been to Horsham in his life, and could think of nobody there with whom he had the slightest acquaintance. When the bell rang, it was a man’s voice that said “Hullo!”
    John said, “I was asked to ring up this number. My name’s Waveney.” And when the voice answered him it was all at once familiar.
    â€œOh, Maurice—Lulu Smith speaking. I’m down here to see my uncle, and he’s very anxious to speak to you. Just hold on a minute.”
    John held on. After a short interval someone else spoke:
    â€œAre you there, Sir John? Mr. Carruthers speaking. I am sorry to have troubled you, but I am anxious to have a few words with you.”
    â€œIt’s no trouble.”
    â€œThank you. The fact is—” He broke off. “My nephew Lewis tells me that you had a conversation with him this morning. By the way, I