Mirror Man

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Mirror Man Page 12

by Jacques Von Kat


  ‘The Suit did it,’ I told them.

  For a moment, there was only silence. Detective Green broke it: ‘Who is The Suit?’

  ‘I don’t know, but that’s the nickname I gave him. Mr Phillips asked me to go to the bakery to get some lemon curds and tarts for dinner, but when I got back to the shop, I found The Suit bent over Mr Phillips. Then he saw me and pinned me up against the wall and called me names. Said he’d snap my neck. Then I blacked out, and when I woke up, he’d gone, and my hands were bruised and sore. But I didn’t touch Mr Phillips; he was my friend.’

  The world began to blur as I was talking, but not because I was blacking out again. Hot tears burned my eyes and threatened to spill over.

  The detectives mumbled between themselves.

  ‘Do you know what he wanted?’ Green asked.

  ‘He was… looking for something,’ I said.

  ‘Looking for what?’

  I shrugged and shook my head. I couldn’t tell them about the guns. I got the distinct impression from Mr Phillips that he wouldn’t want me to. I had to do right by him, and not telling them seemed right.

  ‘Okay… Tell us more about this “Suit” character,’ Green said.

  I nodded. ‘I first saw him last week when PC Williams took me home, then when Daniel died—’

  ‘Daniel?’ he interrupted.

  ‘Young lad who got knocked off his scooter in that terrible accident last week,’ PC Williams clarified from behind me.

  ‘Oh right, yeah, carry on,’ Green said.

  ‘He was right there outside Claude’s Antiques. He’d been outside watching for days. He was even there this morning. People must have seen him. He’s been all over town.’

  ‘Did you see anyone out of the ordinary this morning?’ Green directed the question over my head to PC Williams.

  ‘No one I didn’t recognise,’ the constable replied.

  ‘You’ve got to find him. He doesn’t belong here!’ I said.

  ‘What do you mean he doesn’t belong here?’

  ‘The way he dresses. He can’t be a proper Yorkshire man,’ I told them.

  The three men chuckled, which startled me. How could they laugh at a time like this?

  ‘Oh, aye. What’s a proper Yorkshire man, then, when he’s at home?’

  I frowned at Green’s jovial tone. ‘Like you two or my grandad,’ I said. ‘He was different, not from round here. He was tanned with the same colour hair as me, but cut different and black eyes—not brown, black. He had a really nice suit on. Tailormade, blue like a shark. Three buttons down the front. The bottom one wasn’t fastened. Small collar and narrow-fitted trousers. Really white teeth, like them on the adverts. I’ve written all about the times I’ve seen him in my journal, except for when he killed Mr Phillips. I haven’t been home yet to write it down.’

  I noticed Detective Green had started to write the description I was giving them down. I hoped they believed me.

  ‘Can we see this journal?’ he asked.

  ‘Umm…’ I wasn’t keen on letting someone read my journal. They would see all the details of everyone I’d ever followed.

  ‘It could really help us find this “Suit” fella. If we can read it for ourselves…’ he prompted.

  I bit my lip. ‘Okay. But you’re not to read everything else. Only his entry.’

  He chuckled. ‘Scout’s honour,’ he said, holding three fingers up. I wasn’t sure if I believed him. ‘PC Williams, get WPC Thompson to take his grandad back home to get the journal,’ he told him.

  ‘Righto,’ he said and was just about to leave when I half-turned to stop him.

  ‘Wait,’ I said. ‘He doesn’t know where it is.’

  I filled him in on where to find it, and we waited for them to return with the journal. During that time, the detectives made me repeat everything I’d told them over and over until WPC Thompson came back with the journal.

  I unbound the book, located the page with The Suit’s name at the top, handed it over, and waited while both detectives read it in turn.

  ‘PC Williams, get WPC Thompson to copy this down exactly as John-Michael has written it, then bring it back,’ said Detective Lightman.

  The constable jumped from the back of the room and took the book. ‘Back in a jiffy.’

  ‘John-Michael, you said you wrote the first entry a week ago?’ Detective Lightman asked as the door closed behind PC Williams.

  ‘Yes, today a week ago.’

  ‘And you’d never seen him before until then?’

  ‘No, and I see everyone,’ I told him.

  ‘Yes, so I’ve noticed. That’s a mighty heavy journal, John-Michael.’

  PC Williams came back into the room with my journal and a slip of paper in his hands.

  ‘That was quick. I hope she hasn’t written it out in shorthand. I want it exactly as John-Michael has written it,’ Lightman said to PC Williams.

  ‘She’s a fast writer, that girl. I checked it myself,’ he replied, handing the paper to the detectives and my journal to me.

  The detectives scrutinised the paper once more, then Lightman looked up at PC Williams, who had resumed his place behind me.

  ‘What do you think, constable?’ asked Lightman. ‘You seen or heard about anyone new around town fitting this description?’

  ‘Nope, but things have been hectic with the accident last week and extra shifts at the mine. I think the lad is telling the truth. I don’t think he’d hurt anybody. What I can’t fathom is why he didn’t report it when it happened,’ he said.

  I bit down on my lip. What he was saying was right. I should have told them, and I wouldn’t be in this mess.

  ‘He’s right, I wouldn’t hurt anybody—especially Mr Phillips. He was my friend. Grandad’s too. I was scared, so I ran and ran until I couldn’t run anymore, then I hid. He said he was going to hurt me,’ I stressed, then I remembered Mr Phillips’s anxious behaviour. ‘Mr Phillips was scared too. I found him hiding in a corner one day. He said something bad might happen to him.’

  ‘Did he? Alright, son, we’re going to make some enquiries. But you aren’t off the hook yet, this is a serious murder enquiry. You best be praying your story checks out. Just ’cos PC Williams here believes you doesn’t mean we do. Do you understand?’

  I gulped. They had to believe me. ‘Yes. Can I go home now?’

  ‘Yes, with some conditions, but you’ll be seeing us again, John-Michael. Keep your nose clean ’til then.’

  ‘My nose is always clean,’ I said.

  I couldn’t be sure who, but one of them snorted and then they both got up and left.

  PC Williams came and sat in front of me, and I shuffled my chair so I could sit to the side.

  ‘John-Michael, what a mess you’ve got yourself into,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘They could throw the book at you if your story doesn’t check out.’

  ‘I’m telling the truth!’ I yelled with fists clenched on my thighs. ‘The Suit is real. I would never hurt Mr Phillips. I love working in his shop.’

  ‘Alright, I know you’d never hurt him. I’m going to ask around about this “Suit” fella. Someone must have seen him if he stands out as much as you say.’

  ‘People had to have seen him. He’s been hanging around for a week now.’

  ‘Okay, come on. The desk sergeant needs to go through a few things with you. Then I’ll take you to where your grandad and mam are waiting for you.’

  Great. I was more scared of them than of the two detectives.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Mum slapped me hard across the face, and I stumbled back onto PC Williams’s feet. He cleared his throat but didn’t say anything.

  ‘I knew you were a wrong’un, from the day you were born,’ she said and stormed out.

  ‘Grandad, it wasn’t me!’ I told him.

  ‘I know that, lad, you’d never hurt anyone. It’s just that me and your mam… we can’t understand why you didn’t fetch the police or tell us. We could’ve sorted out all
this mess. What on earth were you thinking, John-Michael? I didn’t bring you up that way.’ he said, his shoulders sagging.

  ‘I’m sorry…’ My stance matched his.

  ‘I bet you are, son. You’re in deep crap now.’

  I frowned. I knew I must be bad if Grandad swore. He hardly ever used bad language.

  ‘Come on and get in the car. Tina and Pete should be waiting at home,’ he said, gently touching me on the shoulder to guide me out.

  ‘Why are Tina and Pete waiting, do they have more news to tell us?’ I asked. I didn’t think I could take on much more news.

  ‘No, we’re having a family meeting when we get back. We need to talk about this mess you’ve created.’

  I sighed, ‘Okay…,’ and climbed into the back of the car.

  No one spoke all the way home. At times it seemed like we weren’t even breathing, as if no one dared make a sound, because if they did, then someone was sure to erupt. I was glad for the silence, though. It meant I could keep a careful eye on my surroundings as we drove home, checking for The Suit. He’d been watching me outside the shop, which meant he could be lurking anywhere, ready to pounce.

  Once home, the three of us walked into the house to where Tina and Pete were waiting for us in the dining room. Tina was sat at the table with Pete stood behind her, dressed in his suit and with his hand on her shoulder. She looked like she’d been crying.

  ‘Sit down,’ Grandad told me. ‘And you, Pete.’

  I sat down, as did everybody else. I scanned their faces in the mirrors. They all looked grim and stern. It was several moments before anyone uttered a word.

  ‘Did you do it?’ asked Tina softly.

  ‘Do what?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh, come on!’ Mum shouted. ‘Are you really that flipping stupid? Did you kill Mr Phillips?!’

  ‘Mum!’ Tina returned the shout, while Grandad banged his fist on the table.

  ‘Of course, he bloody well didn’t,’ he said. ‘This is our JC we’re talking about. Not a bad bone in his body.’

  I hung my head in shame. ‘I didn’t do it.’

  ‘You what, John-Michael?’ said Tina.

  ‘I didn’t hurt Mr Phillips. Do you really think I could do that?’ I asked her.

  At that, she seemed to sag with relief and gave a little sob. Pete put his arm around her. But she didn’t answer my question. I expected this from Mum, but not her.

  Grandad exhaled long and hard. ‘See, what did I tell you? No grandson of mine is a cold-blooded murderer.’

  Mum scoffed. ‘Great, Stephen. Your words are going to stop everyone pointing the finger, are they?’

  ‘Well, let’s not think about that now. We’ve got other things to discuss.’

  Mum buried her face in her palm. ‘I’ll never be able to show my face again…’

  ‘Because it’s all about you, isn’t it, Mum?’ Tina growled.

  Mum looked up and rolled her eyes. ‘God, I need a drink.’

  At that, Tina promptly stood, almost knocking her chair over. ‘Yeah, that’s it, Mum. Drink yourself into oblivion! I thought you were cutting back?’

  Pete reached out to calm her, but she didn’t accept more than his arm around her waist.

  Mum stood too. ‘I was until soft lad over there turned into Peter Sutcliffe!’ she snarled. ‘I should have crushed more pills in your bloody warm milk.’

  Tina’s mouth hung open in a giant O, and I clenched my fists. Peter Sutcliffe? Pills? Is that why the milk tasted funny? She had slipped something in my drink.

  Pete removed his arm from around my sister and clasped his hands in front of him on the table. ‘Woah, Anna, that’s a bit harsh,’ he said. ‘The lad said he didn’t do—’

  ‘What pills?’ Tina interrupted. ‘Have you been drugging our John-Michael?’

  ‘It was just a couple to help him sleep after he witnessed the accident last week.’

  ‘For God’s sake, mother, you can’t just be putting pills in his drink! What if the police find out?’

  So, that’s why I slept so well…

  Mum exhaled loudly and left the table, heading to the kitchen.

  Once the room was silent again, Grandad turned to me. ‘John-Michael…’

  ‘Yes,’ I grunted.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell the police, or me, or Tina even? We could have helped you. We would never have thought you capable of doing something like this.’

  I looked back down. ‘I was scared. The man who hurt Mr Phillips said he would hurt me too. He wanted to snap my neck. He threatened Mr Phillips, said he would hurt me to get information out of him. But if he could do that to him, he could do it to me. I was scared he would follow me home and use you to get to me.’

  Mum came back with a glass of whiskey. She even brought Grandad one too.

  ‘Thanks, Anna.’ He smiled grimly. Mum nodded.

  I hoped she’d calmed down. I needed her to believe me. Well, not just her—all of them.

  ‘And you’ve told the police all about this man, haven’t you?’ asked Pete.

  ‘Yes, I told them everything. What he looked like, what he was wearing. Everything.’

  ‘Good. See, Tina, Anna, Stephen?’ Pete said. ‘The lad was scared because his boss had been killed. Come on, can you blame him for running away and not saying anything? Put yourselves in his shoes for a moment. How would you react to seeing someone killed in cold blood?’

  They all sighed and nodded.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Mum. ‘I shouldn’t have called you by that vile man’s name.’

  Everyone turned to look at her; now all our mouths hung open.

  ‘What?’ She shrugged.

  The three of them muttered, ‘Nothing,’ but I stayed quiet, though inside I was smiling. It meant the world to have her back on my side. And what did it matter she’d put something in my milk? At least I’d slept better.

  ‘Now that’s all out of the way, we’ll leave the police to find the man responsible. We’ve got important matters to discuss,’ said Grandad.

  ‘Was what happened not the reason you called us here, Grandad? We’ve both left work because of this,’ said Tina, gently tapping her hands on the table.

  ‘Yes and no. With the death of Mr Phillips, John-Michael inherits the antique shop and the flat above it,’ he explained.

  ‘I do?’ I asked at the same time both Tina and mum said, ‘You what?’

  ‘How do you know this?’ asked Tina.

  ‘After his Mary died, he spoke to me about it. He had a will drawn up—both PC Williams and I witnessed it. It’s all above board, legal and all that.’

  ‘Blimey…,’ said Pete.

  ‘Did you know about this?’ Mum addressed me.

  ‘No, I knew nothing. Why would he leave it to me? What about his family?’ I asked.

  ‘They’re all in Australia, and they ain’t coming back to England anytime soon. He’s never even met them, anyway, and he had no one else to leave it to. You don’t think he’d let the government get their hands on it, do you? Have it turned into another one of them foreign muck takeaways?’

  Pete shook his head, but no one else did. I think they were as shocked as me.

  ‘Are you sure you didn’t know?’ Mum asked again, eyeing my reflection suspiciously.

  ‘Mum, why do you keep asking him that? He said he didn’t know. Quit it,’ said Tina.

  ‘I didn’t know. No one tells me anything.’ I folded my arms. ‘You don’t treat me like an adult.’

  ‘I’m only asking since the police might think it’s motive for… well, you know.’

  ‘You’ve been watching too much television, Mum,’ said Tina.

  Mum rolled her eyes and snorted.

  ‘John-Michael didn’t know,’ Grandad said. ‘Mr Phillips, PC Williams, and I thought it best we didn’t tell anybody until the time was right, which we thought would be way into the future.’ He waved his hand away from him. ‘But here we are now, and I admit it won’t be easy when news of this comes out.
As dramatic as it sounds, Anna is right. I think there’ll be some finger-pointing and accusations until the perpetrator is caught, so best the shop stays shut for a few days. What does everyone say to that?’

  Everyone nodded their agreement, except for me.

  ‘Grandad, what about people picking up their watches? They’ll be counting on me being there,’ I said.

  ‘Do you have numbers and names for these people?’

  ‘Yes, I think so. Mr Phillips recorded everything in that ledger and Rolodex of his.’

  ‘Good. Once the police say it’s okay to go back in, you can get the ledger and ring them and explain what’s happened.’

  My gaze sank to where my hands twiddled on the table. ‘You mean… I have to speak to them?’

  ‘Yes, JC, this is your shop now. You’re going to have to get used to it,’ he said, his tone flat.

  I gulped. I rarely spoke to the customers. Had no need to, really. Perhaps this would be the door I needed to walk through to become whole. If I could speak to random strangers in the shop, then maybe I could look at them too.

  ‘I think I need a sip of that whiskey, Grandad.’ I nodded towards his glass, which had a mouthful left. He slid it over to me, and I swallowed it in one, relishing the burn as slid down my throat.

  ‘I needed that,’ I sighed.

  Everyone laughed.

  ‘Can I get something to eat now? I’m hungry,’ I said.

  ‘Sure, I’ll make some cheese-and-tomato sandwiches. Does everyone want one?’ Mum asked.

  ‘Yes, thanks,’ everyone replied in unison, including me.

  Tina leant over to me once Mum had left. ‘You’ve certainly won Mum over now. She’d have gone ballistic over this a week ago.’

  ‘I know, it’s certainly a massive change,’ I told her. ‘I like it.’

  ‘She knows deep down you didn’t hurt Mr Phillips. I think I would have run away too if I’d have been in your shoes. I’ve told you before she blames herself.’

  ‘Why? Is it because of what she said about my eyes?’ I asked her.

  Tina shot up straight. ‘You remember her saying that to you?’

 

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