Death at the Cafe Read Online Free

initiative, and Mary providing a willing, inventive counterfoil. The stakes, however, felt a lot more dangerous than a week’s grounding this time around.
    The rings abruptly ended, and Annabelle waved her hand gleefully at Mary.
    “Hello?” came a scratchy but warm voice on the other end of the line.
    “Oh, ah… hello! Ah… Is this Teresa?”
    “Yes, I am Teresa,” came the cautious reply. “Who is this?”
    “Ah, this is Reverend Annabelle Dixon. I have with me Sister Mary Willis. I believe you know her.”
    “Yes. Indeed I do,” the woman replied, a strange note of tension in her voice.
    “Ah, well…” Annabelle stumbled over her words, wondering what she should say. The woman made no reference to the proposed meeting. She looked at Mary for a cue, but her open-mouthed look of anticipation provided none. “Well, we received a message that indicated you may be in danger. We’d like to come visit you as soon as possible.”
    “I see.” Teresa said slowly, her voice still filled with a sense of wariness, before continuing after a short pause. “Well, yes. That would probably be for the best. My address is fifty-two Glentworth Street. Head directly north from Baker Street station. My apartment covers the second floor.”
    Annabelle nodded firmly at each sentence, as if the physical gesture would help her better commit the address to memory.
    “Okay. We’ll be there as quickly as possible. But please, be careful in the meantime.”
    “Goodbye,” Teresa said after a second’s hesitation, as if bracing herself for some immense challenge.
    Annabelle slammed the receiver onto the hook and turned to Mary.
    “So? What did she say?” Mary asked, her large, round eyes urging Annabelle for information.
    “This is terribly strange,” Annabelle said, scratching her neatly-bobbed hair. “She didn’t seem fazed in the least, nor did she make any mention of the meeting with you. If the idea weren’t so preposterous, I’d say she was even somewhat suspicious of me. Did she always sound so guarded to you?”
    Mary pursed her lips as she thought. “No, not at all. From our conversations – though they were few – she seemed a very typical older lady. Warm, gentle, caring. Humorous, even.”
    Annabelle pitched her shoulders back and stood fully upright, like she always did before making a final decision.
    “Then we should make haste, because the woman on the other end of that line is obviously afraid of something. Let’s find out what it is.”
    And with that, Annabelle began her stern march once more toward the tube station, Sister Mary fluttering in tow like a ponytailed butterfly.

    The two women made their way to the tube station and rolled through the turnstiles along with the mass of other fellow travelers. They reached the platform just as a train barrelled out from the dark tunnel and hopped on it.
    Annabelle slumped into her seat as if it were a comfy couch at the end of the day, while Sister Mary sat down delicately and slowly, as if setting herself for tea.
    “When I’m in Africa, I do so miss riding the tube,” Mary said, displaying her unbridled positivity in spite of the macabre events of the morning.
    “If it were up to me, I’d happily give the whole transport system away,” Annabelle replied, gently kicking away an empty bottle that had rolled against her foot.
    Mary giggled at Annabelle’s rare grumbling. “However would you travel around London?”
    Annabelle shrugged and smiled. “I’m beginning to think the best thing to do is stay at home anyway!”
    Mary laughed gently, before her smile turned into the pursed lips of concern.
    “I am terribly sorry for all of this fuss, Annabelle. It’s a terrible shame that instead of catching up as we intended, we’re going who-knows-where for what seems like an incredibly worrying purpose.”
    “Oh, tosh,” assured Annabelle. “It’s fine. I’m sure this is all perfectly reasonable and will be clarified as soon as we have a chat and