N or M_ - Agatha Christie [65]
Tuppence thrust this aside and opened the letter.
‘Dear Patricia (it ran),
‘Auntie Grace is, I am afraid, much worse today. The doctors do not actually say she is sinking, but I am afraid that there cannot be much hope. If you want to see her before the end I think it would be well to come today. If you will take the 10.20 train to Yarrow, a friend will meet you with his car.
‘Shall look forward to seeing you again, dear, in spite of the melancholy reason.
‘Yours ever,
‘Penelope Playne.’
It was all Tuppence could do to restrain her jubilation.
Good old Penny Plain!
With some difficulty she assumed a mourning expression–and sighed heavily as she laid the letter down.
To the two sympathetic listeners present, Mrs O’Rourke and Miss Minton, she imparted the contents of the letter, and enlarged freely on the personality of Aunt Gracie, her indomitable spirit, her indifference to air raids and danger, and her vanquishment by illness. Miss Minton tended to be curious as to the exact nature of Aunt Gracie’s sufferings, and compared them interestedly with the diseases of her own cousin Selina. Tuppence, hovering slightly between dropsy and diabetes, found herself slightly confused, but compromised on complications with the kidneys. Mrs O’Rourke displayed an avid interest as to whether Tuppence would benefit pecuniarily by the old lady’s death and learned that dear Cyril had always been the old lady’s favourite grand-nephew as well as being her godson.
After breakfast, Tuppence rang up the tailor’s and cancelled a fitting of a coat and skirt for that afternoon, and then sought out Mrs Perenna and explained that she might be away from home for a night or two.
Mrs Perenna expressed the usual conventional sentiments. She looked tired this morning, and had an anxious harassed expression.
‘Still no news of Mr Meadowes,’ she said. ‘It really is most odd, is it not?’
‘I’m sure he must have met with an accident,’ sighed Mrs Blenkensop. ‘I always said so.’
‘Oh, but surely, Mrs Blenkensop, the accident would have been reported by this time.’
‘Well, what do you think?’ asked Tuppence.
Mrs Perenna shook her head.
‘I really don’t know what to say. I quite agree that he can’t have gone away of his own free will. He would have sent word by now.’
‘It was always a most unjustified suggestion,’ said Mrs Blenkensop warmly. ‘That horrid Major Bletchley started it. No, if it isn’t an accident, it must be loss of memory. I believe that is far more common than is generally known, especially at times of stress like those we are living through now.’
Mrs Perenna nodded her head. She pursed up her lips with rather a doubtful expression. She shot a quick look at Tuppence.
‘You know, Mrs Blenkensop,’ she said, ‘we don’t know very much about Mr Meadowes, do we?’
Tuppence said sharply: ‘What do you mean?’
‘Oh, please, don’t take me up so sharply. I don’t believe it–not for a minute.’
‘Don’t believe what?’
‘This story that’s going round.’
‘What story? I haven’t heard anything.’
‘No–well–perhaps people wouldn’t tell you. I don’t really know how it started. I’ve an idea that Mr Cayley mentioned it first. Of course he’s rather a suspicious man, if you know what I mean?’
Tuppence contained herself with as much patience as possible.
‘Please tell me,’ she said.
‘Well, it was just a suggestion, you know, that Mr Meadowes might be an enemy agent–one of these dreadful Fifth Column people.’
Tuppence put all she could of an outraged Mrs Blenkensop into her indignant:
‘I never heard of such an absurd idea!’
‘No. I don’t think there’s anything in it. But of course Mr Meadowes was seen about a good deal with that German boy–and I believe he asked a lot of questions about the chemical processes at the factory–and so people think that perhaps the two of them might have been working together.’
Tuppence said:
‘You don’t think there’s any doubt about Carl, do you, Mrs Perenna?’
She saw a quick spasm distort the other woman’s face.
‘I wish I could think it was not true.’
Tuppence said gently: ‘Poor Sheila…’
Mrs Perenna’s eyes flashed.
‘Her