Anne Perry's Christmas Vigil by Anne Perry

had been spilled, and then stood in. Whatever it was had been smeared. Perhaps someone had slipped.
    â€œGracie …,” Minnie Maude whispered, putting out her hand. “Summink bad ’appened ’ere.”
    She was cold when Gracie touched her. Gracie meant to hold Minnie Maude’s hand gently, but found she was gripping, squashing Minnie Maude’s thin little fingers. It did not even occur to her to lie. This was not the time or the place for it.
    â€œI know.” She thought of telling her that itmight not have been Charlie’s blood, but it didn’t need saying. Somebody had been hurt here.
    â€œGold’s precious,” Minnie Maude went on. “Lot o’ money. But it must a bin more ’n that, eh?”
    â€œYeah,” Gracie agreed. “Summink inside it.”
    â€œA present for God?”
    â€œMebbe.”
    â€œWot d’yer give God, then? In’t ’e already got everyfink’?” Minnie Maude asked.
    Gracie shook her head. “I dunno. Mebbe it in’t fer ’im.”
    Minnie Maude’s eyes widened. “I never thought o’ that. Wot d’yer think it could be?”
    â€œIt must be summink very precious,” Gracie replied. “And I think we gotta find it.”
    â€œYeah.” Minnie Maude nodded vigorously. “We ’ave.”
    Minnie Maude turned toward the door just as it flew open and Stan strode in, broad, bowlegged, his face twisted with anger.
    â€œWot yer doin’ in ’ere, missie?” he demanded of Minnie Maude. Then, swinging around to Gracie, he said, “An’ you don’t belong ’ere neither! Leave! Out of ’ere!” He waved his arms as though to force them out.
    Minnie Maude stood as if frozen.
    â€œGo on!” Stan shouted. “In’t yer got no chores ter do, yer lazy little girl? Think yer ’ere fer us ter feed yer gob while yer sit ’ere in the ’ay daydreamin’?”
    Minnie Maude started to say something, then saw his hand swinging wide to clip her round the side of the head, and ducked out of his way. She turned to stare at Gracie. “C’mon!” she warned, making for the door, and escape.
    Gracie wanted to stay and argue, but she knew better. There was an anger in Stan’s face that was deeper than mere temper. There was a shadow of fear in it also, and she knew that people who were frightened were dangerous. Something very bad indeed had happened in this place, and the tasteof it put wings on her feet. She veered sideways and shot past his outstretched hand, through the open door, and down the path to the alleyway.
    Through the back gate she nearly bumped into Minnie Maude.
    â€œYer all right?” Minnie Maude asked anxiously.
    â€œYeah.” Gracie pushed her hair back and straightened her rumpled skirt, then picked a few pieces of hay from her shawl.
    â€œWot are we gonna do?” Minnie Maude asked.
    Gracie felt as if she were jumping into a fast, icy river. The only thing worse would be being left on the bank.
    â€œWe’re gonna find out exactly where Uncle Alf went the day ’e were killed,” she answered, as if that had been her decision all along.
    â€œÂ â€™Ow are we gonna do that?”
    â€œWe’re gonna ask Jimmy Quick wot way ’e went, an’ then foller it an’ find out ’oo saw Uncle Alf the same way. They might know, cos of it bein’ someone diff ’rent than Jimmy.”
    â€œThen wot?” Minnie Maude’s eyes did not flicker an instant.
    Gracie’s mind raced. “Then we’ll find out where ’e were killed, exact like, an’ ’oo ’e saw, an’ ’oo ’e di’n’t.”
    Minnie Maude gulped. “Then we’ll know ’oo killed ’im?”
    The thought was enormous, and terrifying. Suddenly it did not seem so clever at all. In fact it seemed the depth of stupidity. “No we won’t,”