Read Luthier's Apprentice, The for Free Online

“Which is?”
    “To find out what happened to him.”
    For a moment Emma didn’t know what to answer. She was too aware of the passing minutes.
    “I’m right,” he said, half smiling. “Well, that’s two things we have in common. And there’s a third one, too.”
    “What?”
    “We have no time to lose. Come on,” he said, as if he had read her mind. He started toward the door.
    “Wait!” Emma wasn’t sure if she wanted another ‘partner.’ With Annika, that made them three. The way she saw it, three was a crowd. On the other hand, he looked pretty smart... and three minds could work better than two. Or couldn’t they?
    “What’s your plan?” he asked.
    “Going into his study.”
    “I agree that’s the best place to start. How did you manage to get in, by the way?”
    “It’s a long story. My friend helped. What about you?”
    “I’m supposed to be cleaning the upstairs windows,” he said.
    “Then why are you hiding, if you have permission to be in the house?”
    “She said not to come downstairs until she got back.”
    They crossed the foyer and stopped in front of the study door.
    Both extended a hand to open the door. Throwing her a look, he pulled back his hand and said, “Be my guest.”
    After an instant of hesitation, Emma grabbed the doorknob and turned it. Great. It wasn’t locked. She bent under the yellow crime-scene tape and entered. He followed close behind and shut the door behind them. Luckily, the curtains were drawn, so nobody could see them from the street.
    Nervously, Emma glanced at her watch. Almost eleven. She wasn’t even sure what to look for. She had been here hundreds of times, and knew every nook and cranny. The study was about fifteen square meters. Except for two large square windows, the rest of the walls were lined with bookcases. A cherry wood desk with a dark green leather top sat at the far end of the room. Apart from the desk chair, there were two armchairs with a little round table between them. The middle of the room had always been kept free for teaching purposes. A music stand with some old scores stood in one corner. The only adornment was a Persian rug in the center of the oaken floor. Books, notebooks, legal pads, papers, Post-Its, pens, and pencils cluttered the desk.
    “Anything in particular we should look for?” he asked. But there was something peculiar about his tone, as if he already knew what he was looking for and he was asking her just for the sake of asking. He had gone straight to the desk and opened one of its drawers. He rummaged inside.
    “How about a secret passage?”
    He turned to look at her. “Secret passage?”
    “That’s always how it works in books, isn’t it?” she said defensively. “A person can’t disappear just like that.”
    “I agree,” he said, surprising her.
    She had half expected him to mock her. The fact that he didn’t, and that he was looking seriously at her with those sharp, brilliant green eyes, made her blush.
    “If he…um...if he really wasn’t seen leaving this room, then there must be a secret passage, otherwise it has to be the work of…” she hesitated.
    “Magic?”
    Her pulse raced. She stared at him. He didn’t stop surprising her. “That’s right—magic. Do you think that’s lame?”
    “No. The idea already crossed my mind.”
    She was half incredulous, half thrilled. “Really?”
    And then, to her utter astonishment, he adopted a stuck-up British accent and recited from Sherlock Holmes. “‘An old maxim of mine, that when you have excluded the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.’”
    She was speechless for a moment. “That’s from Sherlock Holmes! You don’t look like...like you read Holmes.”
    “You shouldn’t trust appearances.” He yanked open another drawer and started rummaging inside, as if nothing had happened, as if reciting Sir Arthur Conan Doyle to a stranger was completely normal.
    “ Okay ... You look for the notebook,