Mirror Man by Jacques Kat (ereader for textbooks txt) 📗

looked through into the shop. Fersy and Clive were back to collect the flail.

‘What’s the verdict?’ Clive asked.

‘It’s genuine, alright,’ Mr Phillips said. ‘Six hundred years old, give or take. Not worth a lot now, but worth hanging on to.’

Fersy squinted down at the thing. ‘Know anyone who might be interested?’

I knew Mr Phillips would be deep in conversation for a while, so I snuck off to his office. I tiptoed through with the key gripped in my hand, then knelt in front of his old desk, making sure I didn’t knock anything. I carefully turned the key, and the door opened. It creaked a bit, so I stopped and listened. I could still hear voices, so I carried on.

When the door was fully open, I peered inside. There were some tatty envelopes full of paperwork and plenty of small boxes, probably containing rings or bracelets. To the left-hand side was an odd brown box. I opened it up and inside found the key for the big safe.

I pulled out from under the desk with the new key in my hand, pushed the door closed, and crept to the back of the room where the bigger safe stood, too big to hide, but too heavy to steal. After listening one more time for their voices, I inserted the key and opened it.

Inside was large enough to hide in should you ever feel the need to, and at least half my height. Amongst the other items was the red case I’d seen a few days earlier. On top sat a receipt; it was a list of the items bought from the house clearance.

I scanned down the list. Towards the bottom was written, ‘Two duelling pistols (Durs Egg).’ I put the receipt down, then carefully unfastened the clips on the red case and lifted the lid. Inside, tucked in a blue velvet compartment, sat a pair of guns.

I slammed the lid shut, fastened it securely, and closed the safe, locking it tight. I couldn’t believe what I’d seen or what I’d been holding. I didn’t like the thought of guns being in our town. What if someone got shot, or worse?

Mr Phillips was right to want to get rid of them—and quick.

Were those the items the family were trying to get back? Was The Suit working for them? Or did one have nothing to do with the other?

Chapter Twelve

I went straight home, avoiding people and the world around me to prevent myself from getting distracted. Instead of going into the house, I headed around the back to the cottage to see Fred. I used my secret knock, and he let me in.

‘Well, if it isn’t the town hero,’ he greeted me and raised his arm. I’m sure it was to pat me on the back, but he quickly put it down again as I hesitated.

I frowned both at his words and his actions; he knew I didn’t like to be touched. ‘Huh? I’m not a hero.’

‘Well, I suppose hero is stretching it a bit, but I’ve been told what you did for that Daniel fella.’

‘I didn’t really do anything.’ I shrugged. ‘I only spoke to him for a few minutes. Who told you? Mrs Kelly, again?’

‘She did, actually, but I’d already heard all about it from your mam.’

‘My mum told you?’ I asked. ‘I didn’t think you two spoke much.’

‘We’ve had our differences, yes. She’ll speak to me now and again, though. Proud as punch she was when she told me. There’s something different about your mam. Have you noticed?’

I had noticed. She appeared to have cut down her drinking, and she was being nicer, even going so far as to have full-blown conversations with me. It had been years since we’d really communicated like that.

I hummed. ‘Mum has changed. She started being nicer after I witnessed the accident with Daniel, but maybe it’s that mixed with the news of Tina’s baby. And she’s cut down on the wine.’

‘Well, ain’t that something?’ he said, slapping his thigh as we sat down. ‘And Tina’s having a baby, is she? You kept that quiet, JC.’

‘Sorry, must have slipped my mind with everything that’s happened this week…’ I said, rubbing my head.

‘Had a rough week, have you, lad?’

I nodded.

He chuckled. ‘Welcome to the real world.’

I had no idea what that was supposed to mean, and I didn’t have time to ask.

‘Fred, I came round to ask you something, if I can.’

He shuffled forward in his chair. ‘You can ask me. Doesn’t mean I can help or give you an answer.’

I frowned again. Fred never gave a straight answer of yes or no. ‘Do you know what a Durs Egg is?’

‘Hmm, sure do. He was a pistol and rifle maker. What do you want to know about him for?’

‘Oh… I heard someone talking about it, and I wondered what it was, that’s all.’

‘Fair enough.’

‘Is he dead now, then?’ I asked.

‘Oh yeah, long gone, JC. His guns are practically antiques now.’

‘Great, you’ve been immensely helpful, Fred.’

‘Oh, JC, I’m not going to pry into your business, but you remember, where there’s guns, there’s trouble,’ he said.

‘Okay, Fred,’ I said cheerfully. I didn’t want him to suspect anything might be wrong.

I left Fred’s and walked slowly to the main house. It would seem Mr Phillips had got himself some antique pistols. They were probably worth a lot of money, too, otherwise he wouldn’t have them locked up in the safe. The only puzzling part of the mystery was why he had to get rid of them quickly. Perhaps he felt the same as I did and didn’t like having guns in the shop. I wasn’t back at work until Tuesday now, and I was eager for the day to come around so I could find out more.

I went in through the kitchen and found Mum had started to prepare tea.

‘Hi, love,’ she said, spotting me in one of the many mirrors.

‘Oh. Umm, hi, Mum,’ I said. She’d caught me off guard with her bizarre niceness again. Most