The Secret of Kolney Hatch by Stefani Milan Read Free Book Online Page A

Hwhere?...” Mrs. Wendell snapped. “Beatrice, it is rude to leave a person wondering after uttering a statement such as that one. You must learn to clarify your statements.”
            “The letter was too wet for anyone to decipher its message,” Beatrice squeaked testily. “But Constable Wyatt thinks Louisa may’ve been trying to reach the police about something.”
            Petunia grabbed onto her long silky black and gold garb as she took a very slow (her bottom still hurt from earlier) seat on her long forest-green sofa. She pondered the newest murder information for a moment.
            “So if Louisa was trying to expose something but was murdered before she could reach the police,” Petunia reasoned, “then perhaps the missing girl was also trying to do the same.”
            Beatrice nodded her head.
            “Perhaps, yes.”
            “What was the missing girl’s name?” Mrs. Wendell asked, fixing the top button on her usual black dress.
            “Agatha Bates. She was….” Suddenly Beatrice stopped speaking to look at her dress. Her voice was breathy and full of disappointment. “Oh darn, there’s a tear in my dress.”
            Petunia took in a deep breath.
            “She was what, Beatrice?”
            Mrs. Wendell’s eyes widened with irritation. “That dress is brand new, Beatrice. You must be more careful with your things.”
             Mrs. Wendell continued to interrogate Beatrice about the origins of the rather large tear in her new dress while a large lump formed in Petunia’s throat. Her body began to tremble, and, was it hot in this room? Suddenly, she felt as though she may faint.
            A fierce knock on the front door made her jump.
            “Excuse me for a moment,” she said to Mrs. Wendell and Beatrice, who in continuing their conversation about the dress, ignored Petunia as she spoke. Petunia was eager to leave the room to calm her nerves.
            By the time she reached the front door, she was panting. The fierce knock came once more, just as she opened the door. Immediately, Petunia stiffened.
            “Constable Wyatt, whatever brings you here at this hour?” Petunia asked politely and low. The last thing she needed was for Mrs. Wendell to question why the constable was at her home.
            “Good evening Mrs. Pennyworth. So sorry to disturb you,” he said, taking off his hat to reveal his bald, egg-shaped head. “I was hoping I might speak with your husband for a moment.”
            “Phillip isn’t here,” Petunia said.
    She stepped outside and closed the door behind her, just in case Mrs. Wendell and Beatrice were listening. She hoped they were still talking about the tear in Beatrice’s dress. She tried to control her trembling voice. “Perhaps I could help you with something?”
            “No, I don’t believe you can. We just need to ask Phillip a few questions. Do you know where I might find him at this hour?”
            Petunia could not conceal a snide laugh. She never knew where Phillip was at any hour.
            “I don’t know. I’m sorry,” Petunia said curtly as she looked to her left and right to make sure she and the constable were alone. “I never quite know where Phillip is.” Then she brought her voice to just above a whisper. “You see, he’s hardly ever  around, especially at nighttime...if you know what I mean.”
            The constable seemed to understand.
            “I see,” Constable Wyatt said. “Well, I suppose we’ll find him at the bank tomorrow then.”
            “Alright. If he does come home tonight, of course I’ll let him know you must speak with him,” Petunia said with a half-hearted smile. She hoped the good constable would leave before Mrs. Wendell or Beatrice overheard. He was about to turn away when suddenly he