Read Online Blood From a Stone by Dolores Gordon-Smith - Free Book Online Page A

hidden by his body. She very much didn’t want to see the man’s head.
    There was stuff splashed on the outside of the window. I’m looking at it! she thought in horror.
    The inspector still didn’t seem to catch on but he paused with his hand on the man’s back. ‘Come on,’ he said again, his voice wavering. He forced himself – Isabelle could see what an effort it cost him – to lean forward.
    Then he understood. ‘No. No,’ he repeated. ‘No.’ He staggered away from the body by the window, his face mottled with grey patches. ‘No.’ He turned to Isabelle. ‘He’s dead,’ he said wonderingly. ‘His head’s swiped clean off. Clean off, I tell you.’
    The fact he’d actually said it seemed to make it real. ‘Oh my God, he’s dead!’
    He lunged forward and making a wild grab, tugged at the communication cord. ‘Get that kid out of here!’ he called, raising his voice above the whoosh of air from the brakes. ‘Get her out of it!’ he shouted as the train rumbled to a halt.
    But Agathe, excited by the noise, pulled away from Isabelle’s hand and darted into the compartment. The ticket inspector vainly tried to stop her.
    The train jerked to a halt with a series of sharp metallic clanks as the wheels jarred along the rails. All along the train came shouts as windows were pulled down and passengers leaned out, loudly demanding to know what was happening. Isabelle made a grab for Agathe who was crouched behind the inspector on the floor between the seats.
    â€˜Agathe!’ she shouted, her voice shrill with anxiety. ‘Agathe, come here!’
    Agathe scrambled to her feet and peered round the inspector’s legs. She had something in her hand. It was a string of beads, which, as she held them out to Isabelle, caught the light in a breathtaking flash of deep midnight blue. ‘ Joli! ’ she squeaked excitedly. ‘ Joli, joli, joli! ’
    â€˜What’s she say?’ asked the inspector, bewildered, looking round and down. ‘How does she mean, jolly?’
    â€˜She means pretty,’ translated Isabelle mechanically. ‘Agathe, come here! ’
    She made another grab for the little girl and this time succeeded in pulling her into the corridor, shutting the door on that nightmare compartment.
    The shabby man followed them. ‘He’s dead.’ His voice was high and nervous. ‘He had to be dead, leaning out of the window like that.’ He gave a little broken laugh. ‘I was worried about the kid, but she’s all right, isn’t she?’
    Isabelle stooped down to where Agathe was holding the string of beads, her face rapt with wonder. She held them out to Isabelle for inspection. ‘ Joli, ’ she murmured reverently. ‘ Joli. ’
    â€˜But these are beautiful ,’ said Isabelle in bewilderment. She took the necklace in her hands and looked at the shimmering deep blue. The necklace consisted of sixteen stones, in an ornate heavy gold setting. The stones increased in size from the clasp, culminating in the principle stone, which hung by itself at the front. All the stones were beautiful but the principal stone was a deep, velvety blue. It was like looking into the ocean on a still, moonlit night. Almost instinctively, Isabelle ran her fingers over the stones.
    â€˜They’re sapphires,’ said the man in the trench coat in a dried-up voice. He was obviously finding it hard to speak. ‘I saw them.’ He swallowed. ‘After I saw him .’
    He held out his hand for the necklace and Isabelle noticed that, although his cuffs were frayed, his hands were clean and well cared for. He ran the sapphires through his hands, twisting them so they caught the light. ‘They’re worth a lot of money.’ There was a catch in his voice, a longing, even reverent, note. ‘A dickens of a lot of money.’
    Isabelle suddenly