Free Anne Perry's Christmas Vigil by Anne Perry Page A

man shook his head. “I know w’ere ’e died, but I’d leave it alone, if I was you.”
    Suddenly Gracie’s attention was keen again.“Why? D’yer reckon summink ’appened ter ’im? We gotta know, cos we gotta find Charlie.”
    The man’s eyebrows rose. “ ’Oo’s Charlie?”
    â€œÂ â€™Is donkey,” Minnie Maude said quickly. “ ’E’s missin’, an’ ’e’s all by ’isself. ’E’s lorst.”
    The man looked at her, puzzled.
    â€œWe can’t ’elp Uncle Alf,” Gracie explained. “But we can find Charlie. Please, mister, wot did Uncle Alf say to yer? Did ’e say anyfink special?”
    â€œMe name’s Cob.” Wordlessly he passed them each a hot freshly cooked chestnut. They both thanked him and ate before he could change his mind.
    Then Gracie realized what he had said. Cob! Was this the same Cob that Dora and Jimmy Quick had spoken of that Alf had shown the golden casket to? She swallowed the chestnut and took a deep breath.
    â€œDid ’e tell yer wot ’e’d picked up?” she asked, trying to sound as if it didn’t matter all that much.
    â€œYeah,” Cob replied, eating a chestnut himself. “ ’E said as ’e’d got summink real special. Beautiful, it were, a box made o’ gold.” He shrugged. “Course it were likely brass, but all carved, an’ ’e said it were a beautiful shape, like it were made to ’old summink precious. I told ’im no one puts out summink like that. It’d be cheap brass, maybe over tin, but ’e said it were quality. Wouldn’t be shifted. Stubborn as a mule, ’e were.”
    Minnie Maude’s face was alight. “ ’E ’ad it? Yer sure?”
    â€œCourse I’m sure. ’E showed it to me. Why? Weren’t it wif ’im when ’e were found?”
    â€œNo. ’E were all alone in the street. No cart, no Charlie.”
    Cob’s face pinched with sadness. “Poor ol’ Alf.”
    â€œÂ â€™E di’n’t steal it. It were put out.” Minnie Maude looked at Cob accusingly.
    Gracie’s mind was on something more important, and that didn’t fit in with any sense. “But ’ooknew as ’e ’ad it?” she asked, looking gravely at Cob. ’E wouldn’t tell no one, would ’e? Did you say summink?”
    Cob flushed. “Course I di’n’t! Not till after ’e were dead, an’ Stan come around askin’. I told ’im cos ’e ’ad a right, same as you.” He addressed this last to Minnie Maude.
    â€œYer told ’im as Uncle Alf got this box?” Gracie persisted.
    â€œDi’n’t I jus’ say that?” he demanded.
    Gracie looked at him more carefully. He wasn’t really lying, but he wasn’t telling the truth either, at least not all of it.
    â€œÂ â€™Oo else?” she said quietly, pulling her mouth into a thin line. “Someone else ’ad ter know.”
    Cob shrugged. “There were a tall, thin feller, wif a long nose come by, asked, casual like, after Jimmy Quick. I told ’im it wasn’t Jimmy that day, an’ ’e di’n’t ask no more. Di’n’t say nuffink about a gold box.”
    â€œThin an’ wot else?” Gracie asked. “Why were ’e lookin’ fer Jimmy Quick?”
    â€œÂ â€™Ow’d I know? ’E weren’t a friend o’ Jimmy’s, cos ’e were a proper toff. Spoke like ’e ’ad a plum in ’is mouth, all very proper, but under it yer could tell ’e were mad as a wet cat, ’e were. Reckon as Jimmy ’ad some trouble comin’.”
    â€œJimmy, not Uncle Alf?” Gracie persisted.
    â€œThat’s wot I said. Yer got cloth ears, girl?”
    â€œWot else was ’e like?”
    â€œTold yer, tall an’ thin, wif a