Lena Jones - The Silver Serpent

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2019

Published in this ebook edition in 2019

HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd,

HarperCollins Publishers

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

The HarperCollins Children’s Books website address is

www.harpercollins.co.uk

Text copyright © Tibor Jones 2019

Cover design copyright © HarperCollins Publishers 2019

Cover illustration by Alba Filella

Tibor Jones asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008211950

Ebook Edition © September 2019 ISBN: 9780008211967

Version: 2019-06-17

The students at Corpus Christi Primary School, Brixton, south London The coolest Agatha fans anywhere

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2019 Published in this ebook edition in 2019 HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd, HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF The HarperCollins Children’s Books website address is www.harpercollins.co.uk Text copyright © Tibor Jones 2019 Cover design copyright © HarperCollins Publishers 2019 Cover illustration by Alba Filella Tibor Jones asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins. Source ISBN: 9780008211950 Ebook Edition © September 2019 ISBN: 9780008211967 Version: 2019-06-17

Dedication The students at Corpus Christi Primary School, Brixton, south London The coolest Agatha fans anywhere

1. A Chance Encounter

2. The Beginning

3. Introductions

4. All the Signs Point to Nowhere

5. Into Thin Air

6. Dead Ends

7. A Message From Beyond the Grave

8. A Larger Puzzle

9. An Absence of Lead Paint

10. Rathbone Mansion

11. A Knotty Problem

12. A Snake in the Grass

13. Out with the New, In with the Old

14. The Space Above

15. Will the Real Arthur Fitzwilliam Please Stand Up?

16. Secrets and Lies

17. Chocolate Cake for Breakfast

18. Impossibly Familiar

19. The Silver Serpent

20. An Unexpected Visitor

Acknowledgements

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‘You’ve been gazing at that painting for at least ten minutes.’

Liam appears at my side, head tilted in front of Vincent Van Gogh’s Sunflowers . It’s a Tuesday in November, and we’re in the National Gallery on a school trip. ‘You’d think it had one of those hidden pictures in it, the way you’ve been staring at it,’ he continues. ‘You know – the sort you can only see if you look at it for long enough?’

‘It’s just my favourite, that’s all,’ I say, smiling at him.

‘I can tell!’

‘Mum loved it too. She used to bring me to see it whenever we were passing this way.’

‘How many times have you visited this place, just to behold its beauty ?’ He says the last bit dramatically, sweeping his arm round with a flourish, as if he’s reciting a very corny poem.

I laugh. ‘Quite a lot!’ Then I pause. ‘It looks different today, though.’

‘How do you mean?’

I point to the vase, where the name ‘Vincent’ appears in blue script. ‘Well, that bit’s the same shade as normal, but the flowers –’ I gesture to the yellow petals – ‘they’re paler and clearer , if that makes sense.’

‘Less orangey-brown?’ suggests Liam.

‘Exactly!’ I smile at him. Nobody gets me like Liam.

Liam shrugs. ‘Perhaps they’ve had it cleaned.’

‘That would make sense … although I was actually wondering if it was more to do with where it’s hanging now. I mean, they’ve moved it from its usual spot, to make it part of the Van Gogh exhibition, so maybe the lighting’s different.’

My friend Brianna arrives at my other side. Her hair is still a sedate brown rather than her preferred blue – Dr Hargrave, our headmaster, has told her she mustn’t dye it an ‘unnatural’ colour again – only now it’s shaved everywhere except on top. She has delicate features and the contrast is almost shocking. Weirdly, though, it’s a good look for her.

‘Is it time to go home yet?’ she asks, studying her nails. They’re black with pale-green skulls.

‘Don’t think so,’ says Liam. ‘We’ve only seen one room so far.’

My backpack’s on the floor. Brianna crouches down and starts rummaging in the front pocket.

‘Hey, what are you doing?’ I ask.

‘Looking for that ultraviolet torch thing. Did you bring it?’

‘It should be in there,’ I say. ‘What do you need it for?’

‘My nails are meant to glow,’ she replies.

I fish in the pouch of my bag and pull out the little torch, which is the size of a pen. ‘Here you go.’

‘Thanks,’ Brianna says. She shines it on her nails and we all admire the gleaming skulls.

‘Er … please can I have everyone’s attention for a moment?’ We turn round as Mrs Shelley, our art teacher, is trying to make herself noticed. All her clothes are drab browns and greys, and even her hair is an indeterminate sort of browny grey. She’s like a washed-out, watercolour version of a person. I find myself wondering what Agatha Christie’s Poirot would have made of her if he’d met her. I imagine my favourite detective nodding wisely and saying, ‘ Non , mam’selle , there is no such thing as a really calm sea,’ in his Belgian accent. And maybe he’d have been right – perhaps Mrs Shelley does have hidden depths.

‘Er … everyone …’ she says again in her whisper of a voice, ‘can we move on now, please?’