Dollmaker Read Online Free Page B

Dollmaker
Book: Dollmaker Read Online Free
Author: J. Robert Janes
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wooden kegs that had once held sleeper spikes. These they used as stools, resting their backs against the bare cold boards and sharing a last cigarette in silence until Louis was moved to say, ‘Misery unites us.’
    Kohler ran his eyes over the inside of the shed. It was nothing much. Bare pine poles clad with boards. Tarpaper on the roof, thank God. No leaks. Just room for a bicycle or two and, in a corner, lots of flattened, clean straw. No sign of sheep dung or any other such item …
    â€˜Don’t even think of bedding down!’ seethed St-Cyr acidly. ‘You do and they will be certain to arrive.’
    â€˜Hey, I thought that’s what you wanted?’
    Did Hermann always have to grin at adversity?
    The Bavarian leaned over the straw, and from a niche on one of the cross-timbers, plucked a package of cigarettes. ‘ Voilà , Chief. Lucky Strikes.’
    â€˜Pardon?’
    He pulled down a lower eyelid in mock salutation and rubbed his frizzy, fast-greying hair that was not black or brown but something in between. ‘Nineteen of them, my fine Sûreté flic . One is missing, in case you wondered.’
    They lit up, savouring the blend of fine Virginia tobaccos. They drew in deeply and looked at each other for the longest time. ‘U-boat cigarettes?’ asked Kohler.
    â€˜From an American freighter or a downed aircraft from North Africa? Could it be possible?’ suggested St-Cyr, examining the glowing end of his cigarette. Marvellous … They were absolutely superb.
    Kohler shook his head. ‘A freighter. My gut tells me our friend the Captain left this little souvenir for the owner of the bicycle.’
    St-Cyr drew in deeply. When the fog had arrived it had made him damned worried, for with it would come the rain to wash everything away. Now he found a contentment which, though he knew he ought to be wary of it, he welcomed. ‘Our Captain is turning out to be quite interesting.’
    â€˜Aren’t the sinkings of twenty-seven ships and the deaths of five hundred and forty men interesting enough? Or the more than two years of surviving what must be a damned desperate war?’
    â€˜Or the 6,000,000 francs? He seeks only the richest pockets of clay – is so anxious to get at them he arrives back from Paris and wastes no time in coming here. None at all apparently. He must have had a car at his disposal.’
    â€˜An expert, and not just with the periscope.’
    â€˜A dollmaker whose grandfather was famous for it.’
    There was silver foil in the cigarette package and an aroma that was still so superb, Kohler had to have Louis sample it. ‘They come in cartons of twenty-four packs, I think. Maybe someone on one of the lifeboats handed them over after the Captain blew their ship right out from under them.’
    â€˜Honour and courtesy on the high seas or the threat of U-297’s deck guns?’
    Deep down in the straw there was a lady’s crumpled white handkerchief. So hard had the fist been clenched, the handkerchief had to be tugged at to open it but there were no initials and only the faintest trace of perfume. ‘Sandalwood, rosemary, lemongrass and bitter orange,’ said St-Cyr. ‘Something quite old and expensive, I think. A woman, then, who values herself, is valued by someone else, or both. Let me keep the cigarettes and this, Hermann. Let me add them to the tufts of coarse black wool from the tracks and the shards of bisque, particularly the one with blood on it. Say nothing of these to our Préfet or anyone else. Not for the time being. Let us have our own surprises.’
    At a shout, they returned to the fog which was now so thick, they could barely make out the Préfet’s lantern.
    Six men were with him and their shapes grew but slowly. The Sous-Préfet in his blue uniform, cape and kepi, the coroner looking more like a startled grey-brown mouse in a heavy brown tweed overcoat, scarf, no hat and

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