Mystery #04 — The Mystery of the Spiteful Letters

But she hadn’t come to complain. ‘Master Philip, I’ve got to run down to the shops,’ she said. ‘The butcher hasn’t sent me my kidneys this morning. Will you answer the telephone whilst I’m gone, and listen for the milkman?’

‘But isn’t Mrs. Cockles here?’ asked Pip. ‘She always comes on Tuesdays, doesn’t she?’

‘She does, usually,’ said Mrs. Moon. ‘But she hasn’t turned up yet, so I’m all on me own. I won’t be above ten minutes gone - but I must get my kidneys.’

She disappeared. The children giggled. ‘I hope the butcher hands her her kidneys all right,’ said Larry. ‘I shouldn’t like to be without mine!’

‘Idiot!’ said Daisy. ‘Come on now - we can really let ourselves go, now the house is empty!’

In the middle of all the hullabaloo, Pip heard a noise. He sat up, trying to push Fatty off him.

‘Listen - is that the telephone?’ he asked.

It was. Goodness knows how long the bell had been ringing! ‘I’ll go, if you like,’ said Fatty, who knew that Pip hated answering the telephone. ‘It’s probably from the butcher to say he’s sending Mrs. Moon’s kidneys!’

He ran downstairs. He lifted the telephone receiver and spoke into it. ‘Hallo!’

‘’Allo!’ said a voice. ‘Can I speak to Mrs. Hilton, please?’

‘She’s out,’ said Fatty.

‘Oh. Well, is Mrs. Moon there?’ said the voice. ‘It’s Mrs. Cockles speaking.’

‘Oh, Mrs. Cockles, this is Frederick Trotteville here, answering the phone for Philip Hilton,’ said Fatty. ‘Mrs. Moon has just gone down to - er - fetch her kidneys. Can I give her a message when she comes back?’

‘Oh yes, Master Frederick, please,’ said Mrs. Cockles. ‘Tell her, I’m that sorry I can’t come today - but my sister’s upset and I’ve had to go round to her. Tell Mrs. Moon she’s had one of them there letters. She’ll know what I mean.’

Fatty at once pricked up his ears. ‘One of them there letters!’ That could only mean one thing surely - that the wicked letter-writer had been busy again as usual, and had sent a letter to somebody else - Mrs. Cockles’s sister this time. His brain worked quickly.

‘Mrs. Cockles, I’m so sorry to hear that,’ he said in a rather pompous, grown-up tone. ‘Very sorry indeed. So upsetting, those anonymous letters, aren’t they?’

‘Oh - you’ve heard about them then,’ said Mrs. Cockles. ‘Yes, right down wicked they are. Upset folks properly they do. And to think as my pore innocent sister should have had one of them. Mrs. Moon will be sorry to hear that - not that she ever had much time for my pore sister, they never did get on, but Mrs. Moon she knows how it upsets people to get one of these here nonnimus letters, and she’ll understand why I’ve got to be with my pore sister this day instead of coming to help as I usually do...’

This was all said without Mrs. Cockles taking a single breath, and Fatty felt slightly dazed. He felt that if he didn’t interrupt, Mrs. Cockles might quite well go on for another ten minutes.

‘Mrs. Cockles, do you think your sister would let me see the letter?’ he asked. ‘I’m - er - very interested in these things - and, as you perhaps know, I am quite good at solving mysteries, and...’

‘Yes, I’ve heard how you found Lady Candling’s cat for her, and found the real guilty person too,’ said Mrs. Cockles. ‘You come round to my sister’s if you like, and she’ll show you the letter. She lives at 9, Willow Lane. I’ll be there. And give my regrets to Mrs. Moon and say I’ll be along on Thursday for sure.’

Fatty replaced the receiver and rushed upstairs in the greatest excitement. He burst into the play-room and stood dramatically in the doorway.

‘What do you think!’ he said. ‘There’s been another of those beastly letters - sent to Mrs. Cockles’s sister! She got it this morning and is all upset and that’s why Mrs. Cockles didn’t turn up to help Mrs. Moon! And Mrs. Cockles said if I go round to her sister’s, she’ll show me the letter. I simply must find out where it was posted and when.’

‘Golly!’ said everyone.

‘Let me come too,’ said Pip.

‘No. Best for only one of us to go,’ said Fatty. ‘Give Mrs. Moon this message when she comes back, Pip - say that Mrs. Cockles rang up and said she had to go to her sister, who was upset because she’d had a nasty letter. Don’t let on that you know any more than that.’

‘Right,’ said Pip. ‘Well, you hop off now, Fatty, before old Goon gets going on the job. He’ll be round at Mrs. Cockles’s sister in no time, as soon as he hears about the letter.’

Fatty shot off. He knew where Willow Lane was. He found number 9 and went to the little front door. It was a dirty, untidy little place. He rapped on the wooden door.

‘Come in!’ called Mrs. Cockles’s voice. ‘Oh, it’s you, Master Frederick. Well, my sister says she won’t show you the letter. She says what’s in it isn’t for anyone to read but me and the police. And I won’t say but what she’s right, now I’ve read the letter properly.’

Fatty was most bitterly disappointed. ‘Oh, I say!’ he said. ‘You might just let me have a squint. I’ve seen all the others. Go on, be a sport and let me see it.’