Luthier's Apprentice, The Read Online Free PDF Page A

rats.
    He quickly changed the subject. “Don’t expect your mother to call anytime soon. She will be busy with your aunt.”
    Emma caught an edge of resentment in his voice. He had stressed the word aunt as if he found it unpleasing.
    “What’s wrong with Aunt Lili?”
    He finished eating quietly. He stood and carried the dishes to the sink. “I guess we’ll know when your mother comes back,” he finally said.
    What was wrong with him? It seemed unnatural for a father to talk about his sick daughter with such aloofness. But then, Grandpa hardly ever expressed affection. It’s as if he had become embittered by something a long time ago. But what?
    “When did you last see Aunt Lili?” Emma asked.
    “Years ago. She’s a recluse and chose that way of life.” His voice was taut, his movements stiff as he rinsed off the dishes and put them in a rack. Dressed in an old flannel shirt, faded, rather oversized jeans and work boots, his tall lanky frame, back slightly hunched, reminded Emma of a scarecrow. Though not in a bad way.
    “Mom said her heart is very weak, that she may die.”
    Grandpa muttered something.
    “Excuse me?” asked Emma.
    He turned from the sink and stared at her. “ Niente , nothing. Ricordati , I want you in the workshop after your violin practice.” With that, he walked out of the kitchen.
    After feeding Blackie, Emma did half an hour of scales, another half an hour of etudes for her right and left hands, and finally a full hour of the concerto. Normally, now that she was preparing for the competition, she practiced three to four hours a day. But this changed when she worked with Grandpa. And anyway, she had trouble concentrating. She couldn’t stop thinking about what Grandpa said, and about the noise coming from the attic. Sitting in bed while Blackie hopped about, she dug into her pocket for her cell phone and speed-dialled Annika.
    “More developments.” In a few words she told Annika about the missing violinists throughout the ages.
    “How weird is that,” Annika said, clearly puzzled. “This case is fit for your dear Sherlock Holmes.” She knew how crazy Emma was about Sherlock Holmes.
    “Tell me about it, Watson,” Emma said wryly. “I’m not sure, but I have a feeling Grandpa knows a lot more than he’s telling me.” Actually, now that she thought about it, she was sure of it. Her new abilities told her so. “I have to get him to talk.”
    “Be extra nice to him,” Annika suggested. “Does he keep a journal or something?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Poke around, Sherlock.”
    “Good idea, Watson,” Emma said without humor. “And you know what? While we were eating, a noise came from the attic.”
    “I told you! Now do you believe?”
    “I do. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you before. I’m sure Grandpa must have heard it too, but he said it was rats. It didn’t sound like rats. It sounded like… I’m not sure. A tremor?” Then she added, changing the conversation, “There’s something else. I must find a way to get into Monsieur Dupriez’s study, but the windows are blocked with crime-scene tape and Madame Dupriez keeps a close watch inside the house.”
    “I don’t like her,” Annika said.
    “Tell me about it.”
    “You must find a way to break in when she’s out.”
    “That’s partly why I’m calling you. Saturday’s the open market at Stockel. She likes to do her shopping there. I have an idea. Madame Dupriez loves those roses to death, doesn’t she?”
    “Roses?”
    “On her front yard. She’d kill if anyone did anything to those roses,” Emma said.
    “Really?”
    “Are you kidding me? She’s mental.”
    “What do you have in mind?” Annika asked.
    “Listen up...”

Chapter Six
    T HE WOMAN SAT ON A THRONE in a stone terrace overlooking a clearing and, beyond, the edge of a huge forest.
    As always, it was twilight. The sun never shone on these parts, nor was there ever night. From the woods came the endless, faraway sound of violin