Mirror Man

by Jacques Von Kat

  ‘Yes, it echoes at the back of my mind.’

  ‘You were so young. This whole time…’ She trailed off. ‘Ignore me,’ she continued and then smiled. ‘You have beautiful eyes, John-Michael. Don’t let anyone tell you any different. Not even Mum.’

  ‘I won’t.’

  ‘I think Mum wasn’t well after she had you. She didn’t mean any of those words. At least now she’s trying to make up for it… in her own way.’

  At that moment, Mum brought in the sandwiches and a pot of tea. We all sat there eating our dinner like nothing had happened. Though inside, I feared this was the calm before the storm, as I’d heard people say. Something was brewing in the air. I just didn’t know what it was yet.

  I needed the guns to be in my possession in case The Suit came back for me and my family. I had to protect them. When I got out of here, if they ever let me go, I would go back to the shop and get them.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Before I disappeared to my room that night, I retrieved the keys and pocket watch from the showroom and hid them with my journal in its hiding place. I had loads to work through, so I did what I normally did when I had to think: I lay on my bed to talk to Bruce.

  ‘What would you do, Bruce?’ I asked. An easy question for Bruce to answer, not for me. He would have used his martial arts skills and kicked The Suit out of the shop. I didn’t think he would have left Mr Phillips on the floor overnight, either.

  Grandad said it would be a couple of days before we could go back to Claude’s Antiques. Well, it wasn’t Claude’s anymore; it was mine now. Though it would forever be known as Claude’s. There was no way I would be changing the name.

  I was desperate to get back in the shop to check on the guns. I had to know they were safe, which I knew they were—I had all the keys—but that didn’t stop me from worrying.

  The Suit plagued my dreams that night, hunting down my family and demanding the guns or he would kill them all.

  *

  Pete returned the next day without Tina to speak to Grandad and me.

  We sat around the dining room table and Mum fetched us cups of tea.

  ‘Right, before I start, John-Michael, I want you to know you’re to be part of all family discussions from now on, no matter what. Okay?’

  ‘Yes, Pete.’

  ‘Quite right,’ agreed Grandad.

  ‘Okay. I’ve instructed a solicitor from Edwards, Adam & Stars to represent our family, should we have any problems down the line.’

  I smiled when Pete said, ‘our family.’ I was happy to have the whole family behind me, and I was certain that once Mr Phillips’s killer was caught, everything would go back to normal.

  Grandad raised an eyebrow, and Pete raised his hand.

  ‘Before you say anything Stephen, this is at no cost.’

  ‘Good job. They sound very fancy, which also means very expensive,’ said Grandad.

  ‘You’re right, they are.’ Pete paused to clear his throat before continuing. ‘A mate of mine from my university days works there. He owes me a favour. You don’t need to worry.’

  Grandad reached for the plate of custard creams Mum had left as he asked, ‘What does he owe you a favour for?’

  Pete waved his hand. ‘It’s really not worth sharing with you, but Tina knows.’

  ‘Fair enough, say no more. Well, that’s a stroke of luck. We’d never be able to afford a decent one unless we asked JC here to sell some of the items in the shop sharpish.’

  I gulped at the thought. Everything in Claude’s Antiques now belonged to me. But I was glad Pete had been able to help us out, though I hoped we wouldn’t need to use the solicitor’s services.

  ‘Oh, before I leave, John-Michael, I’m going to take you to open a bank account next week; you’ll be needing it to pay expenses, bills, and rates.’

  ‘Huh?’ He was saying things I’d never heard of before.

  Grandad slammed his hand down on the table. ‘No, no. Absolutely not. He is not having a bank account. You can’t trust banks. That’s how the government keeps tabs on you, by checking what you spend your hard-earned cash on.’

  Pete started laughing. ‘Come on, Stephen, do you trust me?’

  ‘Well, of course I do. I wouldn’t have let you marry Tina if I didn’t.’

  I watched Pete frown at that. ‘Then this is what JC needs to do. What do you say?’ he said, turning his attention to me.

  ‘Okay.’ I said, much to Grandad’s disapproval.

  Pete left us with a few business cards with the solicitor’s information, telling me to put one in my wallet, should I ever need it.

  As we saw Pete out the door, PC Williams was walking up the drive. He tipped his head to Pete as they passed on another, and Grandad invited him to sit at the dining room table, rather than the kitchen one. He still had that weird look of amazement on his face as he sat down, surrounded by my mirrors. Mum cleared away the used cups but didn’t bring any fresh ones.

  ‘Stephen, John-Michael, I’ve come to give you a bit of an update, see’n as we’re mates and all that,’ he said.

  ‘I really appreciate you being with him down at the station. You know he didn’t do this,’ Grandad started saying.

  PC Williams held his hand up. ‘I know that, mate, but I’m still the police, and I’m treading a fine line getting involved, what with how close we are. Anyway, it’s not me you need to convince, it’s the detectives that need winning over—plus the rest of the townsfolk. You know more than anything how they can be. People always judge first and ask questions later. They’ve already got him marked as guilty and are poised to throw away the key.’

  ‘I suspected as much,’ Grandad sighed. ‘We’re best off staying out of people’s way until things calm down a bit, aye, lad,’ he said to me.

  ‘Okay, Grandad.’ I chewed on my lip. Would the people in town chase after me like they had in my dream?

  ‘Anyway, for now, the detectives are treating this as a robbery gone wrong with this “Suit” fella as the prime suspect. However, John-Michael is still a person of interest, especially as he ran away from the scene.’

  I looked down. I was mighty sorry about that.

  ‘I guess that’s good for now,’ said Grandad.

  ‘Well, I don’t know about that. You see, I’ve been asking around about this “Suit” man, and not one person I’ve spoken to recalls seeing him about town. Not the shop owners or other officers. Unless I can find someone who can validate John-Michael’s story, then we’ve only got his word for it.’

  I slammed my hand on the table. ‘He is real, Grandad, he is! You need to find him, officer. Find out who he is!’

  ‘I know, John-Michael. You just leave that to us, young man. Now, they’ll have more questions for him at some point. They’ll probably want to ask him about what happened again. Sometimes memories come back, and he hasn’t signed a witness statement yet, either.’

  Grandad sighed. ‘Fair enough, we’ll deal with that when it comes. Anything else?’

  ‘Yes. The crime scene investigators have finished. You might want to get down the shop and check on things, and I’d change the locks if I were you.’

  Grandad’s eyebrow raised. ‘Have they? That was quick.’

  ‘I know. Far quicker than I expected for a murder. I just hope they’ve not taken any shortcuts in this. I’d hate to see young John-Michael get fingered for it over police incompetence,’ he said, putting a hand over his badge.

  Grandad shook his head. ‘We have to hope it doesn’t come to that.’

  ‘I know I’m police and shouldn’t talk ill of my colleagues in blue, but I’ve seen it before when mistakes have been made. Anyway, enough of that talk. Have you told him about the shop?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah, we told him about it yesterday.’

  He nodded at me. ‘You’ve got some big shoes to fill, lad,’ he said.

  ‘I haven’t. Mr Phillips was a seven. I’m a nine.’

  ‘I didn’t mean that, son, it’s only a
saying. What it means is, you’ve got to do a good job in your new position as owner.’

  I nodded back.

  ‘Do your colleagues know he owns the shop now?’ Grandad asked.

  ‘Not yet, but they’re sure to find out soon enough. I best be off now. Got a stack of paperwork to finish. I’ll see myself out,’ he said, putting on his helmet. ‘I’ll keep you updated where I can, Stephen.’

  ‘Thanks, pal, I really do appreciate you sticking your neck on the line for John-Michael.’

  He nodded and left.

  Grandad stood from the table. ‘Right, come on then, son.’

  I didn’t follow. ‘Why, where are we going?’

  ‘You heard the officer. Them locks need changing. No time like the present. I’m off to dig out some locks from the kitchen drawer, and you can go fetch my green toolbox from the garage. The green one, not the blue one.’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘Yes, I heard you. The green one.’

  ‘Meet me at the car in five minutes,’ he said. ‘Oh, and bring any keys you’ve got. May as well retrieve the copy of the deeds and the will from the safe. The originals are filed with Mr Phillips’s solicitor.’

  ‘Why do you need them?’ I asked.

  ‘To make sure we fulfil his wishes.’ The words caught in his throat, and he quickly walked away.

  I went upstairs to get my keys, then went to get the toolbox.

  ‘Where you off to?’ Mum shouted behind me as I made my way to the garage. I turned to see her putting rubbish in the bin.

  ‘To get Grandad’s toolbox. We’ve got to change the locks at the shop.’ I told her.

  ‘Right, I’m coming too. Don’t leave without me,’ she said before hurrying back inside.

  I arrived at the car as Grandad and Mum exited the house. Mum’s arms were piled high with cleaning products. We loaded up the boot and set off.

  Fifteen minutes later, we entered through the back door of Claude’s Antiques. Grandad said it would be better to park behind the shop, so as to not raise people’s suspicions. He went in first, advising it would be best not to look in where Mr Phillips died until we could clean up in there.

  ‘I can’t believe all this is yours,’ said Mum as she took it all in. She’d never been in the shop before.

  ‘I know, but it’s a shame it had to happen this way,’ I said.

  She reached up and ruffled my hair. ‘I’m going to clean up where it happened. You two can stay here.’

  ‘Are you sure? Might be a bit… gruesome,’ said Grandad.

  ‘I’m sure,’ she said, rolling up her sleeves and pulling on a pair of marigolds. ‘Will be no good for your knees getting down on the floor, and I don’t want John-Michael to have to see it.’

  ‘Fair enough. You crack on, and we’ll get the paperwork from the safe and change the locks,’ he said, leading me to Mr Phillips’s office.

  ‘Hang on, Grandad, the key to the small safe is in the back of his pocket watch. I need my tools,’ I said, pointing to the room where Mr Phillips was killed.

  ‘Oh.’ Grandad scratched his chin. ‘Wait here. I’ll get the tools you need.’

  ‘But…’

  ‘But nothing. I know what tools you’ll be wanting. I’ve been repairing watches for longer than you’ve been alive, lad. Off you go. Wait for me in the office,’ he said, waving me off.

  I skulked off to the office and sat at the desk, my desk, to wait for the tools. I checked the safes while I waited. Both appeared secure and untampered with, but with Grandad and Mum around, it wasn’t wise to check on the guns yet. It was a few minutes before Grandad returned, and I wondered was taking him so long. When he appeared in the doorway, he appeared upset.

  ‘Are you alright?’ I asked him.

  He sat opposite me and placed the tools on the desk. ‘Yeah. It’s a bit hard to come to terms with, is all. I half expect him to walk through the door and ask us what the hell we’re doing back here. Do you know what I mean?’

  I hummed. ‘I think so. I keep waiting for him to shout to put the kettle on.’

  ‘It’ll get easier with time, son. Now, while your mam is out of earshot, why don’t you tell me how you knew his key was in the pocket watch and how you came to be in possession of it?’

  ‘Did I tell you about the day I found Mr Phillips hiding in the corner behind an old tea chest?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. When was this, and did you tell the police about it?’

  ‘It was the morning of Daniel’s accident, and yes, I told them. I’ve told them everything.’

  Except I hadn’t told them everything. I’d kept the details about the guns to myself. I needed the guns. No one else could protect my family except me.

  ‘I came into work, and I couldn’t find Mr Phillips anywhere. Eventually, I found him hiding behind an old tea chest. He looked scared, things were out of place, and he told me if anything should ever happen to him, I’d find the key to his small safe in the back of his pocket watch.’

  I watched as Grandad sat back in his chair, lowered his head, and rubbed his temples.

  ‘It’s looking like old Mr Phillips knew something was going to happen, it would seem,’ he finally said.

  ‘I asked what he thought was going to happen to him, but he wouldn’t tell me. You know how he was with questions.’

  He laughed. ‘Aye, if he didn’t like a question, he’d ignore it. And the pocket watch, how come you had that?’

  ‘The day it happened…’ I paused and bit my lip. ‘I found it on the floor. He must have dropped it. I pretended to tie my laces, and I slipped it in my pocket.’

  ‘Do the police know you have it?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘Right, best keep that part between us.’

  I got to work on the watch to retrieve the key, then pulled out all the envelopes from the safe and handed them to Grandad. He said he and Pete would go over them, and if there was anything in them I needed to know, they would tell me.

  After we finished in the office Grandad went to the back door and got to changing the locks. I watched him as he worked. He said I would need to learn to do these things now I was the owner of the shop and flat. Once he was done with the back door, he handed me the tools and we walked to the front of the shop.

  I went out the door, intending to pull down the shutters and hurry back in, but I paused as I exited and looked at the shop windows across the road. I already missed being able to walk past them without a care in the world. I’d have to curb my habits even more so now I was in charge of a whole shop.

  I turned and reached up for the shutters. Behind me, loud footsteps echoed down the thin alleyway between the hardware shop and the greengrocers.

  I paused with the shutter a third of the way down and used the reflections on the antique shop window to see who was about to exit. In the shadows, I saw a suit. He’d returned to get me.

  ‘Grandad,’ I whispered. The shaking of my hands caused the shutters to gently rattle. ‘Grandad. Psst!’

  ‘What’s up, lad?’ he said, poking his head out the door.

  I looked back to the mirror image of the alley as a man emerged. It wasn’t The Suit, just a man all dishevelled with his shirt untucked and his tie flipped over his shoulder.

  ‘Nothing, Grandad. I’ll be in, in a moment.’

  I took one final glance around the street before pulling the shutters the rest of the way down.

  Grandad instructed me on how to fit the new lock on the front door. He told me I could keep his toolbox in the shop; he’d even put a few extra locks in just in case. I added the new keys to the set, then we switched off the lights and headed home.

  Chapter Nineteen

  That night, after returning from Claude’s Antiques, dreams disturbed the little amount of sleep I managed to snatch.

  I was returning to the shop from the bakery, but as I walked, it felt as though my feet were weighed down with cement. The bell above the door continued to ring and ring, even though the door had closed firmly
behind me.

  Time seemed to leap forward, and before I knew it, I was stood watching The Suit plunge a sharp object into Mr Phillips’s side. I almost fell forward, but my weighted feet steadied my swaying body.

  ‘Mr Phillips!’ I yelled.

  The Suit turned and sneered at me.

  ‘Do right by me, John-Michael,’ Mr Phillips spluttered.

  ‘I will, Mr Phillips.’

  Time skipped ahead again, and I was pinned against the wall. Our baked treats splattered all over the floor.

  The Suit leaned into me and whispered, ‘I’m going to kill the old man.’

  My head pounded as though it would explode.

  My breaths came thick and fast.

  I launched myself from the chair I was now seated on and attacked The Suit.

  My fists pounded into his face until I collapsed in a heap on the floor.

  Chapter Twenty

  A couple of days passed, and we mostly stayed at home to stay out of people’s ways and avoid the gossip. Grandad even took Mum grocery shopping in Doncaster where no one knew us; she didn’t want the funny looks in the shops.

  Grandad didn’t have any work on, as the people he’d booked in for jobs either didn’t show up or called to cancel. I’d managed to call the people whose watches I had and arranged for them to come in the following Monday morning. I was proud of myself for speaking to them without my words coming out all jumbled.

  I constantly checked all the doors and windows at home after everyone had gone to bed to make sure we were safe. Also, I slept less and less as I worried about The Suit coming to find me, and the dreams didn’t help matters.

  As the dreams continued, I realised they were not dreams at all, but memories.

  When I first dreamt about punching The Suit, I thought I was manifesting what I wished I had done, but when I pieced together all the fragments of the missing moments from when I blacked out, it was evident I hadn’t really blacked out. I was still functioning in the world. It had been like the incidents when I was younger, though I couldn’t remember those ones.

  The dreams revealed I had beaten up The Suit. I’d gone nuts, crazy, mad, whatever you want to call it. It had been the reason why I’d come around with my knuckles bruised and bloody. I’d gone wild, launching myself at him, punching him over and over again. He hadn’t seen it coming. It was why the place looked like it had been ransacked. His face had been a purple bloody mess. I figured he’d left sometime before I came to, though how no one had seen him leave was a mystery. He would have looked a state, and one of his eyes had been half shut, just like when I saw him the next day outside Claude’s Antiques.