Time of Fog and Fire: A Molly Murphy Mystery (Molly Murphy Mysteries) by Rhys Bowen Read Free Book Online Page B

done, so that you don’t have to worry about cooking.”
    “How kind of you, Molly.” Sid held out her hand to me. “I can tell you I’m not going to find it easy being an invalid. But this leg hurts like billy-o when I try to move. A compound fracture, the doctor called it. So rest is really the only cure.”
    “Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of you,” Gus said, putting her hand on Sid’s shoulder.
    I went back across the street and finished preparing the meal. Then I fed the children, swallowing back my impatience, and it was only when I finally carried over a bowl of the hot pot for Sid and Gus that I brought the letter with me.
    “You said you have something to show us?” Sid said, holding out her hand for the piece of paper I held. “Something good?”
    “A letter from Daniel. But it can wait. You should eat while the food’s still hot.”
    “Of course not,” Sid said. “I can see that you’re dying to show us this letter. Good news, I hope?”
    “I’m not sure,” I said. I handed it to Sid, and Gus came to perch on the arm of the sofa to read it over her shoulder. I saw their expressions change as they read it.
    “Well!” Sid looked up as she finished reading. “I am quite lost for words. One can only conclude that your husband has lost his mind.”
    “Or that he was very drunk at the time?” Gus suggested. “How insulting, Molly. Why would Daniel say those things?”
    “I’ve been thinking about it all day,” I said. “At first I was angry. I thought he’d written such a letter because he wanted to somehow impress the company he was with to demonstrate that he was the man of the house and I was just the little wife. But then I decided that was not like Daniel one bit.”
    “No, I have to admit that Daniel has always treated you with more respect than most husbands would,” Sid said. “He didn’t even forbid you to continue with your detective work, although he did try to persuade you to stop.”
    “So what does it mean?” I asked. “None of it makes sense. Daniel is not one for writing long, flowery letters, for one thing. Even when I was away in Paris and he was worried about me he only wrote a few lines. ‘All is well here. Please give Liam a kiss from me.’ That’s about it.”
    “And that sentence about the opera,” Gus said. “You have never been to the opera together, have you?”
    “Never,” I said.
    “And the embroidery,” Sid said with indignation. “When have you ever done embroidery?”
    “Exactly,” I said. “I have come to the conclusion that he must have written all those ridiculous things for a reason. Either he was being watched as he wrote or he thought there was a danger of his letter being read so he wanted to convey a false impression for some reason.”
    “Or?” Sid looked up at me.
    “Or he thought he was being funny, maybe?” I suggested. “He thought his ridiculous statements would make me laugh?”
    “But they didn’t. They made you annoyed,” Gus said.
    “That’s true.”
    We stared at the sheet of paper in silence.
    “I suppose it really is Daniel’s handwriting?” Gus said at last. “Someone else didn’t write the letter to give the false impression that Daniel was in California?”
    “I’m sure it’s his handwriting,” I said. “It’s neater and less of a scrawl than usual because he’s always in a hurry. But I think I’d swear that he wrote it.”
    “Then he wrote it for a reason,” Sid said.
    “That’s what I’ve been thinking. Daniel never does things impulsively. He thinks them through. So I’m wondering if he’s trying to tell me something—some kind of hidden message.”
    “Much of what he says is the exact opposite of the truth.” Sid was frowning now as she stared at the letter. “The opera. The embroidery. Even your sweet and gentle nature. All lies.”
    “I can be sweet and gentle if I put my mind to it,” I said hotly.
    They exchanged a knowing smile. “But it wouldn’t be the usual