101 The Picture of Guilt by Carolyn Keene

Author:Carolyn Keene [Keene, Carolyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: OpenLibrary, Mobilism
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

new windows. Others looked as if they hadn't been maintained since they were built a hundred years earlier. From one of the courtyards came the high-pitched whine of a power saw and the sharp, tangy smell of sawdust. The window of a nearby shop displayed hundreds of intricate brass fittings for fine furniture. Nancy would have liked to go more slowly and explore, but the investigation was more important than sightseeing.

The rue de Charonne was as narrow and busy as Ellen had said. As Nancy and George turned onto it, a green city bus sped by only inches from the curb. The front tire hit a puddle, sending a sheet of water onto the sidewalk. Nancy jumped back just in time. George wasn't so quick. She first glared at her soaked shoes and socks, then at the bus.

"You'd think the driver could show some consideration and slow down a little," she said. '"And what was that water doing in the gutter anyway? It hasn't rained since we got here."

As if in answer, a tiny green truck appeared at the comer on the sidewalk, and rolled slowly toward them, spraying jets of water at the concrete. Two men in green coveralls walked behind it, sweeping the walk with green plastic brooms. The girls ducked into a doorway and waited for it to pass, then walked on to rue Leon Frot.

Nancy studied the small shops that lined the street on either side. With so many shops, surely someone in one of them had seen what happened to Josephine Solo.

"Let's start at the corner and work our way down the block, then back up the other side,'' she suggested to George.

The store on the comer was a bakery with a long line of customers waiting to buy fresh bread for lunch. "Why don't we try the optician next door?" George suggested.

Inside the optician's shop, a young woman in a white lab coat asked the girls if she could be of help.

Nancy explained in French that they were searching for people who might have witnessed a fatal accident on the comer earlier in the year.

"The poor woman who was crushed by the truck, you mean?" the woman replied. "But, of course, everyone in the quartier knows about that. And later we learned that she was a famous artist. It is scandalous the way the trucks and buses speed down such a small, crowded street. Only last week, my son, who is nine, was nearly hit by an immense tourist bus from England."

"You saw the accident in which Josephine Solo was killed?" George asked eagerly. "Can you tell us exactly what happened?"

The woman pursed her lips, then said, "I did not see it happen. I was with a client at the time. But I heard the noises of brakes and the screams. And when I ran to the window, I saw the poor woman's legs sticking out from under the truck. One of her shoes had been knocked oflf. I could tell that there was no hope.

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