Read Online Styx and Stones by Carola Dunn - Free Book Online Page B

paperknife from a small writing-table in one corner. Sinking into a chair by the open French windows, she slit the envelope and took out the paper inside. “I thought these letters came from one of them, but if other people are getting them it sounds more like general malice.”
    Daisy took the other chair. “I know of at least two other recipients,” she said, exaggerating a bit since she couldn’t be certain of the brigadier. “I’m pretty sure there are more. May I see the envelope?”
    The writing was exactly like that of Johnnie’s letters. The postmark was earlier that very day. When Mrs. Burden glanced at her desk, this and any similar envelopes must just have left it in the postman’s bag.
    â€œI shan’t ask who else is being victimized,” said Mrs. LeBeau, the unfolded letter in her hand, “though your presence and knowledge lead to certain conjectures. I hope you don’t expect to read this.”
    â€œNo,” Daisy said reluctantly. “You’ve read all of them?”
    â€œYes. They all say much the same in different variants of foulness. I shall destroy this at once, as I did the rest.”
    â€œForgive me, but may I ask why you go on reading such frightful stuff when you know pretty much what each new one will say?”
    â€œBecause, my dear Miss Dalrymple, I’m afraid that sooner or later there will be a demand for money in exchange for
silence, and that if I fail to respond … Well, my reputation may be already tarnished in Rotherden, but I’m still received in decent houses. It would be painful to lose that. I’d hate to have to move. More important, if word spread beyond this little community, there’s someone else who could be badly damaged.”
    â€œYou mean … ?” Daisy ventured.
    â€œMy lover,” the Merry Widow said flatly. “Despite any conclusion you may have drawn from what you’ve been told, I’m not wildly promiscuous. I have a satisfactory arrangement with a gentleman of whom I’m very fond. His wife, on the other hand, flits from man to man. Incidentally, she knows about us, and is mildly amused by our faithfulness to each other. His position is such that divorce would ruin him even more surely than exposure of an … irregular liaison.”
    â€œI see. Does he know about the letters?”
    â€œNo. Nor have I any intention of worrying him with them.”
    Daisy nodded. “Thank you for being so frank. I’ll be frank in return. I’ve been asked to try to find out privately who’s writing these beastly things. I don’t know if I’ve any chance of success, but obviously the more information I have the better.”
    â€œRather you than the police,” Mrs. LeBeau said irresolutely. “But if you succeed, what next?”
    â€œFrankly, I haven’t thought that far ahead. I suppose it would be up to J—to the person who asked me to investigate. He’s no keener for publicity than you are. Nor can I see that I need tell him you’re another victim.”
    â€œDoubtless he suspects. Unless he suspects me of being the writer?”
    â€œNo, he told me he couldn’t believe you’re the Poison Pen.”
    â€œPoison Pen!” Mrs. LeBeau shuddered. “What a dreadful term, but horridly apt. A pen dipped in venom. Let’s hope it doesn’t lead to worse.”

    â€œYou mean, that he or she doesn’t go on to blackmail?” Daisy asked.
    â€œThere’s that. But what I was thinking of was that one of the victims may discover the writer before you do, and take violent steps to silence the Poison Pen.”

5
    H ome from the shop, Brigadier Lomax picked up the morning post from the silver salver on the hall table. As usual he grumbled to himself about its lateness: Rotherden was at the end of the rural route. Carrying the letters, he went on to the gun-room. With the house full of his offspring and