The Black Book of Secrets by F E Higgins Read Free Book Online Page A

came knocking that night.
    ‘My men say you did a good job.’
    It was not a compliment I wished to accept.
    ‘And where are the valuables?’ he asked me.
    ‘Valuables? What are you talking about? Isn’t it
enough that I unburied a body for you? Now you want
more?’
    He shrugged. ‘I have it on good authority that that
young man was buried with a silver timepiece and a
gold ring. Belonged to his father. Strange custom, to
bury what could be sold for cash.’
    I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Ratchet
wanted me to be a thief for him as well as a bodysnatcher.
    ‘I did what you asked,’ I said. ‘The debt is paid.’
    He shook his head.
    ‘I think not, Mr Strang. After all, you owe q uite
a considerable sum and you haven’t collected the valuables.
Next time you will have to be more careful.’
    ‘Next time?’
    I didn’t dare to argue any more for then I saw
what a fix I was in. The penalty for grave robbing
was prison at the very least, but only if you were
lucky enough to survive the lynching by the dead man’s
relatives.
    That was over six months ago and Jeremiah has
called on me again and again to do his dirty work.
I don’t like to think how many bodies I have
unearthed. All I know is if I am caught, Jeremiah
will not be the one to suffer.
    That man enjoys the fruits of my wickedness and
I can do nothing about it. I lie awake until the small
hours, tortured by my actions. I am betraying the trust
of the villagers, a trust I have built up all my life.
If they knew they would string me up as soon as they
got hold of me.
    Jeremiah Ratchet. How I detest that man. If I
thought I could get away with it, I’d take a swing at
his big fat head with my shovel.

    Ludlow hesitated at that last sentence, but he had been
instructed to write everything he heard so he did. He stole
a look at Obadiah, who was as ashen-faced as the very
corpses he unearthed. Then he put down his quill, laid a
sheet of blotting paper between the pages and closed thebook. Obadiah sat back in the chair, exhausted, and covered
his face with his hands.
    ‘You’ve got to help me, Mr Zabbidou. I’m a broken
man, unworthy of life.’
    Joe laid his hand firmly on Obadiah’s knee.
    ‘Rid yourself of those murderous thoughts,’ he said.
‘They will only eat at your soul. There is a natural justice
in this world. Perhaps it is not as swift as we should like,
but believe me, Jeremiah Ratchet will feel its force. Now,
go home and you will sleep, and you will not dream.’
    Obadiah sighed deeply.
    ‘You know, Mr Zabbidou, I believe you might be right.’
He stood up to go but Joe held him back.
    ‘Your payment, as agreed.’ Joe handed him a leather bag
of coins and Obadiah’s eyes widened when he felt its
weight.
    ‘I’m most grateful to you, Mr Zabbidou,’ said Obadiah.
‘I can make good use of this.’
    ‘And so you should,’ replied Joe shaking his hand
warmly. ‘So you should.’
    ‘And what of Jeremiah?’ he ventured nervously.
    Joe merely blinked once slowly. ‘Be patient, Mr Strang.
Be patient.’

 
    Chapter Thirteen

Fragment from
The Memoirs of Ludlow Fitch
    Thus ended my first long day with Joe Zabbidou. It was
after two when Obadiah left and Joe stood at the door and
watched him go down the hill and into his cottage. He
waited until the lights were extinguished and the place was
in complete darkness before coming back in and locking up.
I stayed at the table staring blankly at the closed book, my
mind spinning at what I had just heard. Now I understood.
It’s a book of secrets, I thought, and Joe is the Secret Pawnbroker.
    It was difficult to believe that Joe had allowed me
to touch such a book, let alone write in it. How I desiredto throw it open and read it from cover to cover! What
other tales of desperation and despair would I find in there?
    I could hear Joe moving around in the shop and talking
to the frog. Quickly I opened the book, flicking from page
to page, and I read the opening lines of one