The Scarlet Letters by Ellery Queen Read Free Book Online Page A

Lawrence” and to “Martha Lawrence.” One was a flossy handwritten number from a Park Avenue post-deb friend of Martha’s family, but this, Nikki knew, contained nothing more lethal than an invitation to a society wedding. The other four envelopes were typewritten and bore business address imprints in their upper left-hand corners; one was from Bergdorf Goodman.
    Nikki riffled through Dirk’s mail automatically. One, postmarked Osceola, Iowa, and forwarded by his publisher, was unmistakably a fan letter; there was a bill from Abercrombie & Fitch Company, and a large grand envelope from the Limited Editions Club.
    But that was all.
    Nikki dropped the letters in the catchall salver on the foyer table, where Charlotte usually left them, and hurried to the study, grateful that the post office still limited itself to a single delivery per day. She felt mean and dirty.
    She was to feel dirtier.
    Dirk, always a late riser, was still in bed when Nikki finished transcribing his Tuesday’s library notes and found herself with nothing to do. Wondering if Martha was awake, she wandered out of the study. Charlotte was in the foyer, vacuuming.
    â€œMrs. Lawrence? She just got up.” Charlotte poked the nozzle of the vacuum cleaner in the direction of the kitchen.
    The pile of mail on the foyer table had dwindled.
    Nikki went through the swinging kitchen door with a thump. Martha cried out, whirling.
    â€œNikki!” She tried to laugh. “You startled me.”
    She had been standing by the dinette table, holding a letter. Unopened envelopes lay on the table.
    â€œI–I thought it was Dirk.”
    Color came back to her cheeks.
    â€œMy goodness, does he affect you that way?” said Nikki cheerily. But she was not feeling at all cheery. Martha had been alone, reading her mail. Why should she have jumped so at an interruption? They were just business letters. Or were they ? “I think,” said Nikki rather faintly, “I’ll have a cup of coffee.”
    As she went to the electric range she saw Martha stuff the envelopes from the table and the letter she had been reading into the pocket of her robe. Martha’s movements were hasty and blundering.
    â€œI’d better snag the bathroom before Dirk monopolizes it,” Martha said with a shrill laugh. “Once he gets in there …” The rest was lost in the roar of Charlotte’s vacuum cleaner as Martha fled.
    And there was the letter, on the floor under the dinette table, where it had fallen from Martha’s pocket.
    Nikki drew a deep breath and pounced.
    It was not a business letterhead. There was nothing on the sheet of white paper but a single line of typing. The line had been typed in red.
    Thursday, 4 P.M ., A
    There was nothing to indicate what the typewritten words meant or who had typed them.
    The back of the sheet was blank.
    At the sound of Martha’s voice from the foyer Nikki dropped the letter under the dinette table and ran to the cupboard. She was taking down a cup and saucer when the door banged open.
    Martha was terrified again. She looked frantically about.
    â€œNikki, did you happen to see a letter? I must have dropped it–”
    â€œLetter?” said Nikki as casually as she could manage. “Why, no, Mar.” She went to the range and picked up the coffeepot.
    â€œHere it is!” The relief in Martha’s voice was almost too much to bear. Nikki did not trust herself to turn around. “It fell under the table. It’s a–it’s a bill I don’t want Dirk to know about. You know how he acts when I buy something expensive out of my own money …”
    Nikki murmured something female.
    Martha hurried out again.
    Nikki telephoned Ellery from the public phone booth in the lobby.
    â€œNow, Nikki,” said Ellery, “what’s the point of crying?”
    â€œIf you could only have seen her, Ellery. Frightened, lying … It’s not like Martha at