The Book of Bones Read Online Free Page B

retreated from everything into her crocheting, ignoring the horses’ frenzied neighing and the lurching of the coach. Waldo was struggling nowwith the door handle but quite unable to open it.
    â€œLet me have a go.” I said. “You have to twist it this way.”
    Sighing, Mrs. Glee put down her crochet. “I doubt that will do any good.”
    â€œWhat?” We stopped and stared at her.
    â€œI am sorry, children. The door is locked.”
    Both Waldo and I were frantically tugging at the door. It was certain now that there was something more than an ale-sodden peasant on the track out there. A sharp crack outside brought us to a stop. A second bang rent the air, followed by a moment’s deep silence.
    Gunshots.
    â€œI locked the carriage door for your own safety, Kit and Waldo. I really don’t want you to get hurt,” Mrs. Glee murmured.
    â€œOpen it at once.” I exploded. “There’s a highwayman out there.”
    â€œI’m so, so sorry about this.”
    â€œShe’s raving, Waldo. Smash the windowpane.”
    But Waldo had already taken off his shoe and was thwacking hard at the glass with the wooden heel. Once. No effect. Twice. The glass still held.
    â€œHurry,” I yelled, for the noises outside were disturbing. “Look, I’ll smash it.”
    Waldo shoved me away and bashed with all his might. A thin crack split the pane and at the fourth blow itshattered. Waldo was about to put his head through the jagged hole when something appeared at the window. A face. It was of perfect plump roundness, framed by a fringe of blond hair at top and bottom. At first glance friendly. Except for the malice in the piggy eyes and something nasty in the way the glistening rosebud lips were pouting.
    â€œâ€™Allo, Vera,” the man said.
    Mrs. Glee put her crochet on her lap and looked at the man. “So you’re here, Bert.”
    â€œAlways on time,” Bert said. “You know me.”
    â€œGo easy on them, Bert.” Her hands, those wrinkled hands holding the crochet, were trembling. Her face, though, was calm.
    â€œOrders is orders,” Bert shrugged. “No loose ends.”
    The rest of us watched this strange conversation in confusion, for things were happening too fast. Rachel screeched suddenly and Mrs. Glee frowned.
    â€œQuiet, please,” she said. “For your own good, be quiet.”
    â€œWhat’s happening?” Rachel gasped. “Who are you?”
    â€œIt doesn’t matter. I’m nobody.”
    â€œMrs. Glee?!”
    â€œI beg you to listen to Bert. It will be better for
all
of us if you do.”
    I had never been so bewildered in my life. Mrs. Glee was clearly frightened, I could see that in the trembling ofher hands and the tautness of her face. But other things were wrong. She knew this thug, Bert. Were they trying to kidnap us? Waldo’s Emily had been right. There was something twisted out of shape about Mrs. Glee. Never mind that now, I had to act.
    â€œI’m sorry too,” I said, bunching my hand into a fist.
    I thwacked Mrs. Glee with all my might as Waldo picked up a piece of glass and held it to her throat.
    â€œCall off your men,” I snapped, pinioning her arms. “Or Waldo will cut your throat.”
    Mrs. Glee was shivering uncontrollably. “Stop it, stop it! Please. Someone will get hurt.”
    â€œPut the glass down, Waldo,” I hissed.
    â€œNo chance.” Waldo barked, his hand quivering at Mrs. Glee’s throat.
    â€œHe has a gun.” I said quietly.
    Waldo turned and saw Bert’s pistol, pointed straight at Rachel’s head. In a flash it was all over. Mrs. Glee stood up and handed something through the window to Bert. He took the key and unlocked the carriage door and then was inside, bringing a rank stench of sweat, grease and gin with him.
    â€œRoom for one more?” he grunted as he heaved his lumbering body into the carriage.