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Category:
Mystery/Suspense
Publisher: Lilax Books
Type: Fiction
Pages: 200
Copyright: Dec. 1, 2019
ISBN-13: 9781670693877
Price: $0.99 (eBook)
The town 'heretic' and a young thief team up to solve a mystery.
Hunger drove 13-year-old Sarah Simm to steal a valuable gold pocket watch. Kindness prompted Jacob Silver to offer her a job rather than see her jailed for the theft. Those two acts changed both their lives forever. 'Sarah's Story' is a companion book to 'Tools of the Trade', the first book in the Silver and Simm Victorian Mysteries series, re-telling the story of their meeting and their first case from Sarah's point of view.
Excerpt
At the workhouse they told us Mr Silver was a heretic and we mustn’t have anything to do with him ’cause of that. I had no idea what a heretic was, but he looked ordinary enough and anyway, I didn’t have any choice but to talk to him. I opened the door so quietly he didn’t even hear me.
“You Mr Silver?”
He looked up, startled. I had expected his eyes to be brown ’cause of his dark, almost black hair, but they were a clear gray and it was like he was lookin’ right through me.
“Yes?”
I’d been planning to lie to him, but somehow I found I couldn’t. I shook back the wet shawl and met his eyes squarely.
“I don’t want to go to ’Stralia, mister.”
“Fair enough,” he said, sounding puzzled. Well, I suppose it didn’t make much sense.
“You don’t understand,” I said. I took the watch out of my pocket and handed it to him. “Here, take it.”
I could see the relief on his face as he took it, and for the first time, it dawned on me that if I hadn’t returned the watch, he would have suffered nearly as much as me, bein’ as it must not be his, but belonging to a customer. He would have had to explain how he let it get stolen and probably have to make up the cost as well. I felt kind of guilty about that. I even felt guilty about my dress and shawl drippin’ rain water on his clean floor. He set the watch on the bench and looked at me.
“Where did you get this?”
I thought that was a foolish question. Where did he think I got it?
“From there,” I said, pointing at the workbench.
“You mean you stole it.”
Oh, my God. He was going to have me arrested, I was sure.
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