The Consequences of Fear by Jacqueline Winspear (speed reading book txt) 📕

“What’s her publisher’s name? Where can I find him?”

“John Hillman. Of Hillman and Sons, only it’s his daughter who works for him now, because his son died in the last war. It’shis niece he sends over here to collect the manuscripts, as a rule. It’s a true family business. They’re over in Bedford Square,just on the corner with Gower Street.”

“Billy—”

“S’all right, miss,” said Billy entering the room again. “I’ve spoken to Mrs. Towner’s nephew—got him at work—and he’ll meetus at Bromley Station, then I’ll come straight back and find the street sweeper. Consider it all as good as done—I can goover and have a look at my house another day; make sure no one’s been looting it!”

“Thank you, Billy.” Maisie turned to Towner and took her hands in her own. “Don’t worry, Mr. Beale will look after you. AndI’m sure you’ll be able to see Miss Hunter in a couple of days. I think she’s much stronger than people give her credit for.”

Towner nodded. “I’ll just go and put a few things into my case.”

Billy accompanied Maisie to the door. “Here you are, miss—spare key to the new lock. Just in case you want to come back foranother gander.”

“Good thinking, Billy,” said Maisie, placing the key in her bag. “The day is escaping us, and I’m off to see Miss Hunter’spublisher, so please telephone this evening to let me know what you find out.”

“Right, miss. Good luck with the publisher.”

It was as she went on her way at a brisk clip—it was easier to walk than to wait for a taxicab—that Maisie’s thoughts turned to Maurice. What had Maurice to do with the manuscript? Or was it a case of a wounded woman speaking the name of a man she had loved so long ago, hoping he would come to her aid, if only in spirit?

Chapter 17

Maisie kept up such a pace that she was breathless when she arrived at the Bedford Square offices of Hillman and Sons. A receptionistseated at a desk in the entrance hall was studying a thick manuscript and making notations in red ink across the pages; shewas so engrossed in her work that she failed to look up even when Maisie was standing in front of her desk.

“Good afternoon,” said Maisie.

The young woman started. “Oh my goodness—you made me jump!”

“I’m sorry,” said Maisie. “My name is Maisie Dobbs, and I’d like to see Mr. John Hillman, if I may. It’s a matter of someurgency in connection with the author Gabriella Hunter.” She passed her professional calling card to the woman.

The receptionist studied the card, then looked up at Maisie. “Miss Hunter? Is she all right?”

“Well, not exactly, and I’d like to speak to Mr. Hillman about it if I may. And as I said, the situation is quite urgent.”

“Just one moment.”

The receptionist placed an open book across the manuscript and rushed from the entrance hall, card in hand. Casting her gaze upward, Maisie followed the young woman’s progress as she ascended the broad winding staircase to the second floor. A door opened and closed, then opened and closed again a minute later as the receptionist ran back down the stairs.

“You can go up. Second floor, door to the right,” said the receptionist, catching her breath.

Maisie took the stairs at the same speed as the receptionist, then knocked on the door to John Hillman’s office, which wasslightly ajar.

“Miss Dobbs, do come in,” said John Hillman, as he came from behind a wide oak desk laden with papers and books. “My niecemanaged to make the door almost bounce off its hinges as she left.” He gestured toward a chair placed in front of the desk,and waited for Maisie to be settled before taking his own seat again. He clasped his hands together. “Now then, what can Ido for you? Miss Hunter is one of our most esteemed authors, and the manuscript I collected this morning promises to be animportant book—I think it could find a readership well beyond the academic domain.”

Maisie described her relationship to Hunter, explaining that she had known her since girlhood. “I’m afraid Miss Hunter wasthe victim of a vicious attack mid-morning. She is in University College Hospital, where her condition is serious but stable.”She paused, taking care to frame her words despite the urgency of the situation. “Suffice it to say that Miss Hunter has beenassisting me in an important investigation. She knew the information she had gathered—whatever it was—would put her life atrisk, and I believe it is hidden within the manuscript she submitted this morning. I would very much like to see it, if Imay.”

Hillman came to his feet again, pushed back his chair and stood before the window that looked out across Bedford Square. Ashe clasped his hands behind his back and appeared to be pondering whether to assist her, Maisie felt her patience ebb.

“Mr. Hillman—”

“Miss Dobbs.” Hillman turned around to face Maisie. “I find myself in a difficult position, as do you. I don’t know what you might know about Gabriella’s background, and you don’t know what I know, so we have to tiptoe, and—”

“Did she ever introduce you to Dr. Maurice Blanche?”

“Why, yes—indeed she did. Now, there’s a collection of papers I’d like to get my hands on. That would indeed be a publishingcoup.”

“Mr. Hillman, Dr. Blanche was my longtime mentor, and he was also my dear friend. That’s how I met Gabriella.” She pausedfor a second to allow her words to sink in. “Now, I cannot express the extent to which this is an urgent matter—one of lifeand death.”

“Right you are.” Hillman marched to his desk, picked up the telephone and placed a call. “Joan—Daddy here—” Pause. “Yes, I know you know it’s me, but just listen for a change, would you? Now then, Miss Hunter’s manuscript—has it arrived?The messenger should have delivered it several hours ago.” Pause. “Oh, you’re already working on it. Well, stop. Stop now. Wrap up