Title: Mrs Radley's Problem
Fandom: Miss Marple
Rating: G
Length: 1,513 words
Summary: Miss Marple's new neighbour keeps having wrong numbers on her telephone

Miss Marple was enjoying a cup of tea with a neighbour, Mrs Radley.  The lady was a newcomer to the village, having moved into her cottage following the death of her husband.

“How are you finding St Mary Mead?” Miss Marple asked.

“Oh, everyone’s being very friendly,” Mrs Radley replied.  “And very welcoming when I’ve gone along to some of the different meetings.  I’m already being asked to help out.”

“That’s inevitable.  I do hope you don’t feel under undue pressure to join.”

“No.”  She smiled.  “I’m not ready yet to commit myself in general, but I don’t mind helping with the tea rota and I’ve said I’ll help with the washing up for the autumn fair.  It’s a chance to get to meet a few people.”

“Very sensible,” Miss Marple agreed.  “And how did you come to decide on St Mary Mead?”

“Well, my son, Hugh, felt that our old house was really too big for me to remain in on my own when George died, and he was right, of course.  I suppose I’d have liked to stay a little longer, but when Hugh found this cottage, it seemed like too good an opportunity to miss.”

“Hmm,” Miss Marple murmured an agreement.  She hoped Mrs Radley hadn’t made a mistake by acting too quickly.

“And it does have the advantage that Hugh isn’t too far away, so he comes over and stays a couple of nights each week, which means he can help me with any problems I may encounter.”

“How kind of him.”  This Hugh did sound like a devoted son, but Miss Marple wasn’t convinced.

At that point the telephone rang.  Mrs Radley went to answer it.  She came back shaking her head.  “It was a wrong number.  It’s very strange, that’s the third one this week.  I shall have to mention it to Hugh when he comes later.  When it happened last week, he said there was nothing he could do, but now it’s happened again perhaps he will look into it.”

“Does it happen all the time?  That must be very annoying.”

“Oh no.  Strangely it only seems to happen on the days Hugh comes.”

“Well, hopefully he will be able to sort it out,” Miss Marple said.  “And now I must be off.  Perhaps you’d like to come to my cottage for coffee one morning.  Would Friday at 11 suit you?”

“That would be lovely.  I would be delighted to come.  I’ll let you know what happens about these wretched calls.”

***

Miss Marple hadn’t expected to see her new neighbour again until the end of the week, so was surprised when Gladys, her housemaid, opened the front door just after nine o’clock the following morning and found Mrs Radley on the doorstep looking very upset.

Miss Marple had come out of her sitting room to see who had arrived, since Gladys hadn’t immediately spoken, and said, “My dear, whatever is the trouble?  Come in and have a seat.  Gladys, go and make us some coffee, please.  Unless you would prefer tea?”

“No, no coffee will be wonderful,” Mrs Radley replied.

Miss Marple escorted her guest into the sitting room, and, as soon as the visitor was seated, said, “Tell me what has happened.”

“I’m so sorry to trouble you,” Mrs Radley began.  “I didn’t know where else to turn.”

“And I’m very glad you came to me.”

“Hugh didn’t arrive at his usual time last night which worried me.  He always tells me I worry too much, but it’s hard not to.  And then about half past eight the phone rang.  I thought at first it would be another wrong number but answered anyway thinking it might by Hugh.  But it was the hospital.  Hugh had been involved in an accident.  I wanted to go to him immediately, but they told me that wouldn’t be possible, but that he wasn’t critical.  And then this morning the police rang.  They want to come and see me.  What am I going to do?”

“Did the police tell you when they would be coming?”

“Yes, ten o’clock.  Oh no, what if they’re early and they find I’m not there.  What will they do?”

“They’ll just have to wait.  Now we have time for our coffee and then we will return together to your cottage.”

“Do you think that will be allowed?”

“I think it is entirely reasonable for you to have a companion with you, when you are clearly very upset.”

Despite Mrs Radley’s protest that she should return home at once, Miss Marple insisted she drink her coffee, as well as eat a couple of biscuits, suspecting her new friend had not had any breakfast.  Then the two elderly ladies walked along the road to the cottage.

As they walked up the path to the front door, a police car drew up and two policemen got out.

“Good morning, Inspector Slack,” Miss Marple said.

“Miss Marple.”  Slack’s expression fell.

“And Sergeant Lake.”

“Good morning, ma’am,” Lake replied cheerfully.

All four went into the cottage and Mrs Radley introduced Miss Marple.

“We’ve met before,” Slack said.  “Now, Mrs Radley, we just have one or two questions we’d like to ask you.”

“How is Hugh?”

“He’ll live.”  A cough from Miss Marple alerted Slack to the need to be a little more sympathetic.  “He’s been banged about a bit, has a broken arm and leg.”

“How soon can I see him?”

“Well, that depends.”

“Inspector, I’m sure his mother should be able to see him this afternoon, even if one of your colleagues has to be in attendance, wouldn’t you think?” Miss Marple said.

Slack nodded.  “Yes, we could probably arrange for Lake to accompany you.”

“Given the circumstances, I’m sure that would be acceptable.”

Mrs Radley looked slightly doubtful but decided that Miss Marple was probably a very good judge of such matters and nodded.  “Yes, if we could do that.”  She looked at Sergeant Lake, who gave her a reassuring smile.  “Very well inspector, please ask your questions.”

Slack asked her the details of her move to St Mary Mead, and then requested he be allowed to view the room Hugh used when he stayed in the cottage.

“If you think it’s necessary,” she said.  “But there’s not much to see.  He leaves it very tidy and then I always dust once he’s gone.  I want it to be as nice as possible for him.”

“I’m sure you do, Mrs Radley,” Slack replied.  “Nevertheless, it might help us if we could have a look.”

“One moment, inspector,” Miss Marple said.  “You haven’t heard about the wrong numbers yet.”

Slack looked at Miss Marple and then turned back to Mrs Radley.  “Perhaps you’d better tell us about them.”

“I’m sure they can’t mean anything.”

“We’ll be the judge of that.”  Slack listened as she told him about the strange calls, and then exchanged a look with Lake, who nodded back.  Then he stood up.  “If we may look at the room now.”

Mrs Radley showed them upstairs, and Lake gently suggested that she wait for them back in her sitting room.  When she returned, she said to Miss Marple, “I really don’t understand what’s happened.  Do you think Hugh has got mixed up in something illegal?”

“I’m very much afraid that he has.”

“Will I have to leave St Mary Mead?”

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary.  After all, there was a murder at the vicarage, and the vicar and his wife are still here.  I don’t think you need worry about that.”

Shortly afterwards, Slack and Lake came downstairs, and Slack announced their departure.  “I don’t think we’ll need to come back,” he said.  “We’ve found what we wanted.”

“I’ll pick you up at quarter past two to take you to the hospital, Mrs Radley,” Lake said.

Slack was about to complain, but one glance at Miss Marple’s withering look and he changed his mind.

Later that afternoon, Sergeant Lake called round to see Miss Marple.  “Thank you for that tip about the wrong numbers,” he said.  “We’ve managed to trace the callers and rounded up some more of the gang.”

“I presume Hugh Radley was involved,” Miss Marple said.

“Oh yes, up to his neck in it.  But the inspector assures me Mrs Radley wasn’t involved in any way.”

“The very idea.”

“You know what the inspector’s like.”

“Poor lady.  She thought her son was being so helpful in finding her the cottage, when it seems it was mainly for his own advantage.  Still, I do think she’ll settle in very well here, so it has worked out for the best for her.”

“We’ve arranged for her to have a new telephone number.”

“So very kind of you.  At least she won’t be troubled by wrong numbers any more.”

Lake laughed.  “Not that kind.  The inspector suspects others may still ring the old number, so it’s being diverted to the station.”

Miss Marple laughed in her turn.  “In which case, he’ll probably find himself being asked to join the church flower rota.”

“I’m sure he’ll be thrilled!”