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

First, I needed a car to pass so I could run behind it and get to the transit van.

I poised, ready to run, almost bouncing on my heels.

An old Ford trundled along. I counted.

One.

Two.

Three.

Go.

I crouched as I ran and pressed the bag close to my body with my elbow.

I made it to the doors at the back of the van and exhaled the breath I’d been holding. I was one step closer to where I needed to be.

The van door slammed.

The engine spluttered to life.

Oh no! I had to move now, or face being stood in the street, unprotected.

It started to move.

I darted off, like a greyhound being released from the starting gate and didn’t dare turn back, scared of what might be lurking behind me. I sprinted until stars danced in front of my eyes and I had to stop to get my breathing under control before continuing home.

Chapter Twenty-two

In the days leading up to Mr Phillips’s funeral, I became a little obsessed with The Suit. I had to find out who he was, where he’d come from, and most of all, why no one else had seen him. Plus, I had to do something. The police investigation had ground to a halt, and I couldn’t let Mr Phillips’s killer go unpunished.

I would get into the same mindset as him, see if I could figure out all the answers to the questions I had. And that meant I had to become him. I was the Mirror Man, after all.

The first thing I did was go out and get a suit similar to his. There weren’t any decent shops here. I had to travel to Doncaster on the bus to visit Ray Allen’s. I bought myself an off-the-peg, two-tone suit in burgundy and another one in silvery-grey. When I’d described The Suit’s outfit to the assistant, he told me the name was two-tone.

Mum didn’t mind being in the antique shop on her own; she enjoyed working there. It was the first time she’d been employed and had a wage packet. She hoped to save up and go abroad one day, she told me.

I minded, though, so I had Grandad stay in the shop with her that day. The next day, however, I planned to get my hair cut to the same style as The Suit’s. The town barber seemed to be the only person who wasn’t bothered that the rest of the town suspected me of murder.

I left Mum in the shop, telling her I would be no more than ten minutes and that if she was concerned about anything to come get me.

As the barber finished up, I saw The Suit again through the reflection in the mirror in front of me. He was walking past the shopfront without a care in the world. I couldn’t get my head around why no one else had spotted him before now. I mean, they had to have. He stuck out like a sore thumb before he changed his clothes. It made me wonder if he was invisible to everyone else, no matter what he was wearing.

I quickly paid, tossing the coins on the counter. Despite the way he made me feel, I had to take the chance to follow him. At last, I would be able to find out exactly who he was and where he’d been hiding. I’d tell the police, then this whole nightmare would be over.

My heart pounded. Anticipation ran through me. I caught up with him until I was only feet away. That’s when I noticed he was carrying an object in his hand. It was long, slender, and curved at one end.

What the—

I stopped.

Mum. The shop.

Turning on my heel, I sprinted back to Claude’s Antiques.

‘Mum, are you alright?’ I yelled as I clattered through the door.

‘Of course, I am. You’ve only been gone ten minutes. You’ll never guess what I’ve sold.’

‘Wait,’ I said dashing past her.

I approached the back door; it had been prised open.

The only place the intruder had been was the office in a failed attempt to break into the safes.

‘Mum, didn’t you hear anything?’ I demanded to know as she appeared behind me.

‘Well, no I was talking to this couple about—’ She suddenly changed her tone. ‘We need to go to the police.’

‘They won’t be interested, Mum, I’m a murderer in their eyes! Why do you think we’ve had hardly any walk-ins?’

‘We all know that’s not true, JC. And I’ve sold the extending table and chairs today. Anyway, that’s not the point. You’ve done nothing wrong.’ She paced up and down the shop floor, wringing her hands. ‘What if it was this “Suit” fella trying to rob the place again?’

There was no ‘What if.’ I knew it was him.

‘Even if it was, it seems as though he’s too clever for them to catch,’ I told her. ‘He must be a professional.’

Mum growled and stopped pacing to cross her arms protectively over her chest.

‘I’m off to change the locks.’ I told her. ‘Lock the front door and don’t let anyone in.’

‘Fine.’

As I worked, Mum lingered behind me, muttering to herself.

‘Right. Hurry up. We’re going down there—now.’

I straightened from the lock. ‘Where?’

‘The police station, JC. Come on, hurry.’

‘Seriously?’

She raised an eyebrow at me in the reflection on the glass of the door. ‘Yes, seriously.’

Mum marched all the way to the police station with me trailing behind, struggling to keep up. Anger radiated from her, and the police were about to be on the receiving end of it.

‘I want to speak to Detective Green or Lightman—now,’ she said to the officer manning the counter. Loitering slightly behind Mum, I watched their interaction via the window on a door behind the counter that seemingly led to an office.

‘I’m sorry, Mrs…’

‘Chester.’

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Chester, but they’re off duty.’

She slammed her hand on the counter. ‘Off duty? Likely story. I want to speak to someone who’s investigating Mr Phillips’s murder.’

‘Ah, the imaginary friend case?’ The officer started laughing.

‘What? He is not imaginary,’