Tom All-Alone's Read Online Free PDF

noticed the elaborate oriental screen when he came in, and thought in passing that it sat rather oddly with the austerity of the rest, but he had not suspected its role might be more than decorative.
    â€˜Sir Julius,’ continues Mr Tulkinghorn, looking at Charles from under his bent grey brows, ‘has been receiving letters. Very unpleasant letters.’
    â€˜Letters of a threatening nature?’
    Tulkinghorn considers. ‘Nothing specific. Merely the expression of a vague but undeniably malevolent intent.’
    Charles frowns. ‘But as you said yourself, it cannot be the first time that Sir Julius has been harassed in a similar way. Why should this particular example concern him so much?’
    Tulkinghorn places the tips of his fingers together. ‘Sir Julius has always gone to extraordinary lengths to protect his wifeand daughters from the less seemly consequences of his public position, and in this endeavour he has, until very recently, been entirely successful. Unfortunately, the eldest Miss Cremorne is about to be married, and the house has, as a result, been thronged at all hours of the day by dressmakers, provisioners, flower-sellers, and I know not what. In short, there has been an unwarrantable breach on the part of one of the footmen, such that one of these infamous letters was given directly to Lady Cremorne’s own hand.’
    â€˜There have been how many, so far?’
    â€˜Three. The earliest some five months ago; the most recent, only last week.’
    â€˜May I see it?’
    There is, perhaps, a slight hesitation on the lawyer’s part at this request, but he takes out a ring of keys from his waistcoat-pocket and unlocks the desk drawer. The letter has been placed on plain brown paper, under a small oblong paperweight carved of some highly polished black substance. From where Charles is standing it looks, improbable as it sounds, like two slender fingers, one slightly longer than the other, the fingernails carefully incised. He’s still staring at it when Tulkinghorn leans forward and hands him the paper. One sheet only, soft with frequent handling, with marks here and there in a dark and dirty brown. The handwriting is not educated, that much is both obvious and expected, but there is strength in it, and considerable resolution.
    I naw what yow did
    I will make yow pay
    Charles looks up, ‘Was there no cover?’
    â€˜I believe it was mislaid.’
    â€˜But it was posted, not delivered by hand?’
    Tulkinghorn nods.
    â€˜And the others? May I see them?’
    â€˜Possibly. If they have not been disposed of. I will enquire.’
    â€˜And Sir Julius has no idea what this latest letter refers to?’
    Tulkinghorn spreads his hands. ‘Like the others – anything and nothing. You know what the people who commit these affronts to decency are like. And you can also imagine, I am sure, the effect of such a missive on a lady’s mind. The matter must be settled with all possible speed: there must be no recurrence.’
    â€˜So what do you want me to do?’
    â€˜Discover the culprit and tell me his name.’
    â€˜As simple as that. Even though, on the face of it, this letter could have been written by any one of a thousand men.’
    Tulkinghorn inclines his head. ‘Even so. It is a complex puzzle, I grant you; if it were not so I should not have required assistance to resolve it, and I should not have hired you .’
    He has him there; Charles is intelligent enough to know he is being flattered, but human enough to pride himself on that intelligence, and crave the credit for it.
    Tulkinghorn gets to his feet, as Charles folds the paper and puts it in his breast-pocket. ‘I will expect you to keep me fully informed. If you have expenses, you should apply to Knox. He, likewise, will require you to render a comprehensive account.’
    The clerk shows Charles back down the stairs and out on to the square. He has been in