The Bookshop From Hell

by David Haynes

  11

  JJ waited by the entrance to the park for as long as he dared before walking away. Alex hadn’t been at school. It wasn’t unusual for him to skip school. In fact, JJ had lost count of how many days he missed last year. It looked like this semester would be the same.

  As usual as it was, he still felt a little lost without his friend. They were a gang of two, and when one member was missing it was like losing a limb. JJ didn’t have any other friends, not real ones anyway. He had people he could sit with at lunch and hang out with, but they weren’t friends. Not like Alex.

  After school, he walked back through the park and paused. Alex would be sitting on his Xbox playing games, had most likely been like that all day. He wouldn’t be genuinely ill, he never had been before. JJ sighed. He should probably go and check up on him anyway, try and talk him into coming back to school tomorrow. It was Mr. Law’s Reading Room tomorrow night too and he didn’t want to miss that. It would be a bit weird sitting in the library with just the two of them.

  He turned right out of the park and up the hill toward Alex’s house. His parents pretty much let him do what he wanted. Although he suspected Alex’s dad did that out of ambivalence rather than any other sentiment.

  He followed the road through the estate – row upon row of houses built in the Eighties, all of them trying to look different from their neighbors, but not quite achieving it. Most of the high school kids came from this part of town. As the realtors that sold the properties said in their brochures: The most family-friendly neighborhood in the state! It might well be; JJ had never lived anywhere else. He’d heard a police siren on the street only once in his life and that was a couple of years ago. A group of high school boys got drunk and one of them drove his dad’s car into someone’s front yard, killing their dog. It was about as exciting as things got around here.

  Alex’s house was at the bottom of one of the smallest cul-de-sacs. It was quiet, almost set apart from the others. Alex’s mom’s car was on the drive, as was his dad’s truck.

  It was unusual for the whole family to be home so early. Whenever he came here after school, the house was empty. Maybe Alex really was ill, his parents taking time off. He shrugged and rang the doorbell. The chime was as clichéd as it was possible to be. Alex always cringed when it sounded, and because of that JJ rang it repeatedly just to annoy him.

  He pressed the button three times, allowing the full tune to play out on each occasion before he realized nobody was coming. He stepped back from the door, attempting to peek through the windows. The drapes were drawn, he couldn’t see in.

  Alex’s room was down the side of the house, toward the back of the property. It was single story so he frequently bypassed the front door altogether and just knocked on the bedroom window. He rang the bell one last time and then walked around the side of the house to Alex’s room.

  The curtains were drawn nearly all the way over but he didn’t peer in. He didn’t want to see anything he wasn’t supposed to see, anything he wasn’t prepared to see.

  He banged on the glass. “Wake up!” he shouted. “I’ve been ringing the bell for ten minutes.”

  No reply.

  “What you doing in there?” He tried not to look through the window. He knocked again but still there was no reply.

  He looked in. “Put your pants on, I don’t want to see…”

  He stopped. The curtains were open a crack, just a sliver, but it was enough to see the carnage inside the room. Across from the window, just to the side of the door, was Alex’s beloved Xbox. His chair was lying at an angle, one of its feet puncturing the plastic case.

  “Jesus,” he whispered. He cupped his hands around his face, pressing his skin to the cold glass.

  He couldn’t see much, no more than a shard of the room, but it was clear something had gone wrong. Some sort of crisis maybe?

  He leaned back and banged on the window again. “Alex!” he shouted. “You okay?”

  Then he saw it. A sneaker. One of Alex’s sneakers. The grubby white leather looked almost black in the gloom. Splotches of white shone through the rest of the shoe. It was coated in something, something dark. Dirt or mud? Blood?

  Blood.

  He slammed his palm against the glass, the single glazed pane wobbling slightly.

  “Alex! Open the door. Open the window!”

  JJ felt his heartbeat quicken, heard the rising tempo in his ears. He felt useless. Alex’s sneaker was on the floor and it was covered in blood. His room was trashed and his parents were both at home. What the hell was going on? He fumbled for his cell. Should he call the police? What should he tell them? He’d seen a muddy shoe through the window and it looked like...

  It was wrong, this whole thing felt wrong. Something had gone bad here and he could either phone the cops and risk looking like an idiot, or he could just do something himself. Grasp the nettle. He peered through the glass again. Were those handprints on the door? He squinted. Partial and bloody prints.

  He pushed the cell back in his pocket and removed his jacket. He’d seen this in movies. He wrapped the jacket around his arm and hand, then hit the glass with his elbow. The glass shattered, exploding into the room.

  He shook his jacket off and checked quickly for cuts. There were none. The fabric had protected him. Jagged spikes of glass stuck up from the rotten frame, threatening to impale him if he tried to climb inside. He wasn’t about to attempt that, and he half-expected Alex to come to the window and start yelling at him. Either that or his dad to come bowling down the side of the house with a shotgun.

  He leaned in, carefully avoiding the worst of the glass, and pushed the drapes away from the window. He gasped, his eyes widening at the horror.

  “Alex!”

  He clambered in. Something tugged at his leg as he dropped into the room. A second later, warmth ran down his calf. He knew he’d cut himself but that didn’t matter. What mattered was seeing his friend lying on his bed in a pond of congealing blood.

  “No, no, no, no, no,” he said, running to him.

  There was blood everywhere, on the wall and on the bed itself. But most of it was on Alex. His face was almost black with it, dried and crusty. His clothes too. The room stank. It was metallic and the air was warm, almost humid. He felt bile rising in his throat, his stomach churning.

  Alex lay on his back, his arms flat by his side, turned to the ceiling. A long trench had been cut into one forearm, almost down to his wrist, and an attempt at doing the same on his left. The wound was not new, blood had congealed on it, dried in a sticky line.

  JJ felt like crying, like collapsing to his knees and weeping. He raised a shaking hand and touched his friend’s cheek and then his throat. Nothing, no pulse, he was…

  There, a slight bump. Had he imagined it? It was so faint, maybe it had been his own…there it was again. He was still alive.

  JJ fumbled for his cell again. He punched the number in. “Ambulance!” he shouted before the operator spoke. “I need an ambulance. Now!”

  12

  The bell sounded. Dan watched the kids file out of class slowly, their moods subdued and introspective. Alex and JJ were not the most popular kids in school, but everyone in the class had been together for the last five years. They all knew each other and despite how they acted, a bond existed. One of their own had done something awful. One of their own was no longer there.

  JJ hadn’t been to school since finding his friend, granted an extended period of absence. Dan couldn’t begin to imagine what he’d been through, what he’d seen. Alex was alive, barely, when they took him away in the ambulance but his parents were both long gone, their injuries too severe to be anything other than catastrophic. Nobody knew exactly what had happened but the rumors, the theories and the speculation had started right away.

  Dan watched Ryan Simmons walk out the door. He had been to all his classes today. And his attendance had improved in the last week. That was good, perhaps he was coming out of whatever funk he’d been in.
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br />   He packed the last of his books and pushed the chairs back under the desks. He was going to stop by JJ’s house on the way home and check up on him. Would he be welcome? He didn’t know but he would make the effort.

  “Mr. Law?”

  The principal, Eloise Fisher, stood in the doorway. Behind her were two men, both dressed in suits. One of them was wearing sunglasses although the sun hadn’t been seen in days.

  “Mrs. Fisher, what can I do for you?”

  She walked into the room. The two men hung back.

  “I’ve been meaning to come and talk to all the staff who taught Alexander and offer my support. If there’s anything the school can do…”

  Dan smiled. “Thank you. I was actually planning on visiting his friend after school today, Joseph Jones?”

  “Yes, that’s good.” She seemed a little unsure, almost nervous. “Give him our best and of course tell him there’s no rush to come back. As soon as he’s ready is time enough.”

  “I’ll tell him.” He paused. “Anything else I can do for you?”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “There’s two gentlemen who’d like to talk to you.” She leaned in closer. “Police officers.”

  He frowned. “Okay, I don’t know what this is about…”

  “Alex,” she interrupted. “I’ll let them explain.” She turned around to address the cops. “This is Mr. Law, our head of English.”

  The two men nodded and came in. The younger one offered his hand with a friendly smile. “Detective Ronayne, and this is my colleague Detective Burton.”

  The one at the back nodded. They were both younger than him.

  “I’m not sure what this is about,” Dan said. He had no reason to feel nervous but he did.

  “It’s nothing to worry about,” said Ronayne. “We just need to ask you a few questions about Alexander Potts. He was one of your students, right?”

  “Do you want me to stay?” Principal Fisher edged closer to the door, her intentions clear.

  “No,” he replied. “I’ll be fine.”

  “What kind of boy was he?” Burton asked, stepping forward.

  Dan took a deep breath. “Quiet, I guess. A good student, although I don’t think his attendance was always good.”

  “Did he have many friends?” Burton asked, scribbling something in a notebook.

  “Friends?” Dan replied. “No, not really. One really good friend. Joseph Jones. They’d been friends for a while. Inseparable.” He paused. “I can ask Principal Fisher to give you his address. You’re probably better off speaking to him…”

  “We’ve already talked to Mr. Jones. He was very helpful, but it’s always good to get as many versions as possible.”

  “Versions?”

  Ronayne shrugged. “We don’t always hear the truth right away, Mr. Law. What people tell us is sometimes a little skewed.”

  “Right.”

  “Girlfriend?” Burton asked.

  Dan shook his head. “If you’ve spoken to JJ, you’ll already know that.”

  “Boyfriend?”

  Dan frowned again. “I wouldn’t know. I’m his English teacher, that’s all.”

  Both detectives nodded. “So, this book club you run, who else attends?” asked Burton.

  “There’s only been one this year and only four who showed up. Alex and Joseph were two.”

  “And you’re reading…” Ronayne paused, holding out his hand. Burton placed a clear plastic evidence bag in his palm. “The Travelling Vampire Show. Is that right?”

  “Yes,” he replied. He could see bloody fingerprints on the front cover. It was the copy he’d loaned Alex last week. He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath. “I loaned him that copy.”

  “And, in your opinion, you consider this to be suitable reading matter for this age group?”

  “What? Of course! Have you read it?”

  “No, but the cover tells me all I need to know. ‘Lurid’ springs to mind.”

  “Well, maybe you should. Maybe the cover is giving you a skewed impression.”

  They were silent for a moment.

  “What happened?” Dan asked. “What happened over there?”

  The officers glanced at each other. “We can’t say,” Burton replied.

  “Oh, I see.”

  “And that’s not because we won’t. It’s because we can’t, at least not yet. We’re still trying to figure out what exactly did happen.”

  “Listen,” Ronayne started. “We’re not here to make things difficult for anyone. We’re here to try and find out why Potts ended up in the hospital. And that means we have to speak to anyone and everyone who knew him.”

  Dan nodded. “I understand.”.

  Ronayne handed over his card. “If you think of anything that might be of interest, call me.”

  “Will do.”

  “Oh, one last thing.” Ronayne turned around, taking another evidence bag from Burton. “Do you know what this is?”

  Inside the clear plastic bag was a small leather-bound book. The leather was light and so the dark smears of blood were easily visible. It made his stomach churn. There was no writing on the cover or the spine. There was no doubt this was the same book Alex had called pulp crap just a few days ago.

  The detective’s question seemed strange. Wasn’t the answer obvious? Was this some kind of trick?

  “He liked to read,” Dan replied. “He had it with him a few days ago. Before…before…”

  “We thought it might be a diary,” Burton interrupted. “Kids love keeping diaries.”

  Ronayne glanced up at his partner. “It isn’t a diary,” he said, turning back to Dan. “It was next to him when we…when he was found. It’s empty though. Completely empty.”

  He held out his hand and shook Dan’s. “You know where we are,” he said, smiling. Both detectives walked out of the classroom and into the corridor.

  Dan stayed where he was for a while, going over the conversation in his head. Were they trying to insinuate that his choice of book was responsible in some way for whatever had happened? That would be a step back in time. Back to the days when the non-existent subliminal messages in heavy metal music and the words in horror books were responsible for all the world’s ills.

  He walked out of the class. There was something about that little book that made him feel uneasy. He’d seen another one, almost exactly the same, he just couldn’t quite place it.

  13

  “I guess I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

  Dan smiled and nodded at Mrs. Jones, JJ’s mom. She’d told Dan that JJ had hardly spoken since he found Alex, hadn’t managed to eat anything and wasn’t sleeping for more than a couple of hours a night. He thought she might be drunk, her words were a little slurred.

  The room was in half-light; the drapes still drawn but thin enough to allow some of the gray daylight inside. On the wall were old movie posters, pictures of a couple of rock bands, and that was it. There was a small desk over by the window with books strewn all over it. Along one side of the room was a bookcase. Its shelves were full.

  JJ’s hunched figure lay on the bed, his back turned to Dan.

  “JJ? It’s me, Mr. Law.”

  No reply.

  “I came by to see how you were doing?”

  His question sounded ridiculous to his own ears. How would anyone be doing after witnessing their best friend lying in a pool of blood?

  “Everyone in class was asking after you.”

  No response, not even any movement. Maybe he was asleep.

  “Principal Fisher told me to tell you there’s no rush to come back to school, take all the time you want.”

  He stood just inside the room. He felt awkward, like an unwanted guest, but he couldn’t leave without at least seeing JJ move, without hearing his voice. He took two steps closer to the bed. “I can’t imagine how…”

  “They wouldn’t let me see him,” JJ said, his voice quiet and strained.

  “Who?
”

  “The cops. I went to see him but they told me I couldn’t, told me I wasn’t allowed to see him.” He still hadn’t moved.

  “I guess…” Dan started.

  “He’s my friend. He needs me.” His voice broke slightly.

  Dan didn’t know what to say. He took another step forward, sitting on the stool beside the desk. “They told me he was under arrest. That he was a suspect.”

  The boy rolled onto his back, not looking at Dan. “A suspect? Alex? He wouldn’t hurt a fly. He couldn’t. Whatever happened was nothing to do with him. I know him better than anyone.”

  “They need time to figure it out, JJ. The cops will…”

  “No,” JJ interrupted. “It wasn’t him. Not Alex.” He paused. “The marks on his arms, the cuts, he didn’t do them. No. I don’t know what happened but I’ll figure it out.” He turned to Dan. “I’ll figure it out,” he repeated.

  His eyes looked like he’d been on the receiving end of a brutal beating, swollen and bruised. Dan could smell his breath too. The kid hadn’t been near a toothbrush in several days.

  “Maybe I could get someone to come and talk to you? Help you figure…”

  “A shrink? My mom thinks I need one.”

  “Listen, after what you’ve been through, it might help.”

  JJ huffed. “What I need is to figure things out for myself. That’s all I need.”

  Dan nodded. “When was the last time you slept?”

  JJ rolled back onto his side. “You know Alex was gay, right? He never told me, not outright. I just worked it out. Didn’t matter to me. Stupid thing was, it didn’t much matter to anyone, except him.”

  Dan said nothing.

  “I should’ve talked to him about it,” JJ continued. “I should’ve told him I didn’t give a shit. That’s what I should’ve done. Maybe that’s why he cut himself up like that. Maybe if I’d…”

  “There’s no point in talking like that,” Dan interrupted. “He knows you’re his friend and that’s all that matters right now.”

  “Alex wouldn’t do that though. That’s what I can’t figure out. Self-harm wasn’t him, not a chance.” He paused. “And his mom, his dad, all cut up and beaten like that…I’ve never seen anything…”