by David Haynes
“How’s business?” Leo asked.
“Good. Can’t complain. Getting better by the day.”
“That right?”
“Sure. The Asian community is growing and they all still hanker after a taste of the old country.” He laughed. “So to speak.” He swept his arm over the store. “We’ve got Chinese, Korean, South East Asian, Indian and of course my world, Japanese. You name it we’ve got it, and if we don’t have it, we’ll get it. What about you, Mr. Newman? Is business good for you?”
Leo sighed. “Great,” he replied, without hint of sarcasm. “Say, who else works here? You have any other staff?”
“Just me and my wife.”
“Is she around? I’d like to meet her.” He thought about the woman he’d seen last night. Her eyes, he’d never forget her eyes.
“Alison!” Michael shouted. “You back there?”
A woman came from the back of the store. Leo immediately knew it wasn’t her. This woman was white, with blonde hair and blue eyes. She smiled at Leo and shook his hand.
“We’ve been meaning to come and introduce ourselves,” she said. “But you know how it is running a store. Never a minute.”
Leo smiled and nodded. He barely remembered what being busy was like. “How’re you finding the neighborhood?” He looked upward. “These apartments are huge but keeping them warm in winter can be a challenge.”
“Oh, we don’t live here,” Alison replied. “We live out near Bishop’s Hill. You know it?”
Leo nodded. It was one of the smart new suburbs that was filled with four- and five-bedroom houses, some with pools. “You rent the apartment out then?”
Michael huffed. “I wanted to but Alison said we should keep it for storage. You struggle with storage over at your place? Doesn’t seem to be enough here.”
Leo looked around. They had got rid of the storeroom to fit more shelving, more products, more profit to pump into their cookie-cutter in the suburbs. A constant trail of shoppers walked into the store. He stepped back to allow Michael to serve them and turned to Alison. “Nobody lives up there then?”
She shook her head. “Not at the moment. We might rent it out later, if we…”
“The reason I’m asking is I thought I saw someone up there last night, when I was locking up. About eleven?”
“Really? That’s odd. Like Michael said, it’s just a storeroom. Filled with boxes and stuff we don’t need.” She frowned. “You sure?”
“I think so,” he replied. He felt unsure now. He just wanted to make sure the woman and her baby was okay. It was possible they went someplace else but the tracks led to the store, and then there was the movement. He just assumed.
“Michael? Have you been upstairs yet this morning?”
He waved off another customer. “Not yet. Why?”
“Leo thinks he saw someone up there last night. About eleven?”
Michael frowned. “Want to come take a look?” he asked.
Leo glanced at his shop. He’d locked it up, but it was unlikely anyone would miss him anyway. “Sure.”
He followed Michael to the back of the store. There was a huge steel door which he opened with a keycode and then a key.
“Can’t be too careful,” he said. “I heard what happened to you. A bad business, Leo.”
Leo said nothing and followed him up the stairs. It was the same layout as his own apartment but it was crammed with boxes, some with things spilling out of the top and onto the floor.
“It’s a bit of a mess,” Michael said. He walked around the edge of the boxes and then pushed his way into the middle. “Nothing here!” he shouted. “We’d know if anyone opened the door anyway. It’s got an alarm.”
Leo nodded. He walked over to the window and looked down at his store. He could see a little way inside.
“I must have been mistaken,” he said. “Sorry to get all…”
He turned around. On the top of the box to his left was a blanket, a thick gray woolen blanket. It seemed strangely out of place, folded neatly where everything else was haphazard and untidy. He reached out and touched it. The cloth was damp.
“We all set?” Michael shouted over.
He jumped, pulling his hand away from the blanket. “Sure…yes,” he replied.
He followed Michael downstairs back into the store, and said his goodbyes to Alison. He trudged across the street. Where the sidewalk met the road, the snow had piled up in small drifts. The street was way down on the municipal authorities’ list as far as street clearing went. As far as most things went. He opened up the store again and made himself some coffee. It was weak and tasteless.
He settled down behind the counter, turned on the TV and picked up a copy of the newspaper. The headlines were all national interest but the story on page three gave him pause. He muted the TV to read.
Two men from the local community had been found dead, frozen to death on the street. The incidents were separate and at different locations, but within a couple of blocks of Leo’s store. Both men were thought to have connections to local gangs. Both men were of Japanese origin. The speculation implied a turf war, blaming drugs, prostitution, the usual suspects where no obvious cause could be found.
There was no mention of gunshots or knife wounds. Just the snow. The whole picture had been condensed into three short paragraphs. That’s all the neighborhood was worth now.
Part Two
1
A few nights passed in relative peace. A couple of cars got into a fender-bender at 3am one morning, resulting in a brawl of sorts. Both men slid around on the ice like skaters for a few seconds before realizing they weren’t going to be able to stand up, let alone throw a decent punch. They got in their cars, mouthing obscenities, and drove away. Leo watched them out of his window and then turned his attention to the stock room above Michael and Alison’s store.
He shivered. Although he could see nothing over there, he felt eyes on him, as if someone was watching him. He moved away and checked the tablet on the bed beside him. Nothing.
It was then that he made the decision. He’d call out Chris, the security guy, to take a look at the cameras. Something was wrong with them. He might even pay a visit to the optometrist and get an eye check. It had been more than ten years since his last one. He put the woman and her baby out of his mind.
*
The next morning, Chris was as enthusiastic as ever, agreeing to come over and run a diagnostic on the system at five o’clock that evening on his way home.
The snow continued to fall, but now there was a stiff wind to go with it, to drive it into pedestrians’ faces and whip it under hats, scarves and coats, freezing people to the bone. Leo wore the same fur-lined trucker’s jacket he’d been wearing for fifteen years. It was getting snug around the shoulders but was still the warmest item of clothing he had.
Ice hung from the telephone wires in crystal daggers. Several tiny power cuts clicked everything inside the store off and on, like someone was playing with the breaker switch. Sooner or later, the power would go out completely. It always did. Every year.
The afternoon was short. The darkness crept in quickly, painting the leaden sky with thick, black ink. The street glowed orange as if it were on fire, creating false warmth as the street lighting flicked on, one after another in a procession along the street.
The storeroom was cold. Much colder than the store, which he kept heated with two portable gas heaters. They were barely powerful enough to heat the area in the immediate vicinity let alone the shop space, but in the storeroom there was nothing. His breath steamed and swirled as he moved various boxes around, shifting them from one shelf to another. He didn’t need to do it, but it was one way of keeping warm and of maintaining at least some shape to his body.
On the other side of the storeroom, opposite the door to his apartment, he’d hung a heavy bag. The idea had been to spend twenty minutes a day working up a sweat, punching the bag like he did when he was training. A pair of sparring gloves sat on the shelf b
eside it. They were covered in a layer of thick dust. To the side of the bag was a door that led to the most depressing bathroom in existence. It was cold and damp, and next to it was an open staircase that led down into the basement. He’d had an idea about turning it into a video and DVD store, but then digital came along and put that idea to bed before it had got going. It was now full of junk that would never sell, no matter how long he left it on the shelves.
The sensor sounded, indicating someone had just walked in to the shop. A blast of even colder air accompanied them. He couldn’t see who it was from here but he checked his watch. Just before five.
“Be right with you, Chris!” he shouted, hefting a box of canned fruit into place. “Sure is cold out there!”
He was greeted with silence. He shrugged and took off his gloves, walking into the store. A woman was standing there, wearing a baseball cap, dark jeans and a trucker jacket with a fur collar.
“Oh,” he said. “Sorry, I thought you were someone else.”
“Mr. Newman?” she asked. She knocked snow off her jacket sleeves.
“Yes.” He frowned. He vaguely recognized her face. “Sorry, do I know you?”
She laughed. “People only ever see the uniform.”
It came to him. It was the cop from the other day. She was in plain clothes. He walked toward her, rubbing his face with embarrassment. “Officer Knowles! It’s been a long day, I’m really…”
She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. It takes my own mom about five seconds to recognize me out of uniform.” She removed her baseball cap and tapped it against her leg.
“You want some coffee?” he asked. “It’s lousy but it’s hot.”
“You know what? I think I will.”
He pressed a few buttons on the machine and then handed her a Styrofoam cup half-filled with coffee. “Help yourself to cream and sugar,” he said. “It helps with the taste.”
She laughed and took it from him, wrapping her hands around the cup. “Right now I don’t care, as long as it’s hot.”
She was right about the uniform. He felt as if he were seeing her for the first time. She was in her mid to late thirties, he guessed, and had red hair tied back in a ponytail. Leo was exactly six feet tall – or at least had been in his fighting days, he’d probably shrunk since then – and she was just a little shorter than he was. In heels she would tower above him.
“So, what brings you down to the neighborhood tonight? I doubt it’s a pleasure trip.”
She took a deep breath. “It is work I’m afraid, Mr. Newman, and I’m actually kinda pleased you didn’t recognize me.”
“Sounds interesting.”
She moved her head from side to side and wrinkled her nose. “Probably not.” She paused. “How would you feel about me taking up a bit of space in your store?”
“Huh?”
“If I was to park myself over by the counter for a few hours, just so I can keep my eyes on the street. You can say no, it’s not a problem, I completely understand. It’s not like…”
“Be my guest,” Leo replied. “Be glad of the company.” And he was. “Do you mind me asking what for, though?”
They walked over to the counter. Knowles peered out through the window. “There’s some kind of beef over there.” She pointed across the street, down from the market where the intersection was. “You heard about the bodies?”
“I read about them.”
She nodded. “A couple more showed up this morning, half-buried in the snow, frozen to death.”
“Shot?”
“No,” she replied. “Listen, I don’t know much more than that at the moment. This might be my beat but they don’t talk to me.”
“Who? The detectives?”
“Neither them, nor the community, Mr. Newman. Closed shop. I’ve just been asked to keep a watch for a couple of nights. See who’s coming and going.”
“Please call me Leo. You make me feel like a teacher.”
She laughed. “Okay, and I’m still Officer Knowles.”
“Right.”
She slapped him on the arm. “Hey, I was joking. It’s Kim.” She sipped the coffee and pulled a face. “You drink this every day?”
“You get used to it,” he replied. “Like I said, the sugar and cream help once you know the correct dosage.”
“I’ll let you get the next one then, Leo.” She sat on the stool behind the counter. “Maybe I could run the register for you while I’m here. I had a toy one when I was a kid. I was pretty good.” She smiled as if she were making a joke, but Leo thought she might actually be serious.
“Has that guy gone to jail yet?” he asked. “Nobody told me what happened to him.”
“The guy who tried to hold you up? The one you put in the hospital?” She paused. “Appeared somebody didn’t want it going to court. He was stabbed in county lockup. Died in the shower block.”
Leo clenched his teeth together. A part of him wanted to say good riddance but he knew that without him, finding the kid’s killer would be even more difficult.
“So, what now? How are you going to catch the other guy? Did you tell the kids’ parents yet?”
“They know. He’ll be mixed up in this…whatever this is. He’ll crawl out of whatever hole he’s hiding in and then we’ll get him. Patience is a great virtue in this game.” She looked out of the window for a few moments, narrowing her eyes at a car that crawled past. “So, how about this register? You going to show me how it works?”
“I’ll show you, but you probably won’t get to use it. Business isn’t so good right now.”
*
Leo had given up on Chris coming to check the security system. The road was now impassible and the sidewalks were knee-deep where it drifted. The front of his store fared little better, the wind blowing the snow horizontally toward the park.
There hadn’t been any customers, much to Kim’s disappointment. She bought herself a packet of gum just so she could ring it through, looking very satisfied with herself.
It was close to eight o’clock when Chris finally did arrive. He stumbled into the store, carrying a metal briefcase and a torch. He was covered in snow from head to toe. The logo on his Giants beanie was barely visible.
“I walked,” he said, “and the power’s out a couple of blocks that way.” He pointed toward the park.
“Are you kidding me?” Leo said. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Chris looked vaguely confused. He removed his hat. It maintained its pyramidal shape. “You asked me to come! You called this morning and said you had a problem with the system.”
“I know but… Jesus, Chris, it could have waited.”
He put down his case and smiled, looking at both Leo and Kim. He unzipped his jacket and tapped the badge on his breast. “Professionals in Protection,” he said. “That’s our business.” He looked immensely proud of himself.
Leo raised his eyebrows and glanced at Kim. “You should at least offer him some of that coffee,” she said.
“It does soup too,” he replied. “And if you thought the coffee was bad, you should…”
“I’ll take a soup,” Chris said. “Chicken, please.” He picked up the case again. “Now, Mr. Newman, you said there was…”
“He prefers Leo,” Kim interrupted. “Says Mr. Newman makes him sound like a teacher.”
Leo tutted.
“I think I prefer Mr. Newman,” Chris said. “I’m not sure my dad would like me calling customers by their first name.” He looked at Leo for reassurance.
“Mr. Newman is fine,” he said.
Chris smiled. Leo’s first impression of him hadn’t been that favorable. He’d made some snap judgments which he could now see were wrong.
“Shall I take a look then?” he asked.
“Wouldn’t you rather just take off? Come back when the weather’s…”
“No, sir,” he replied. “I told my dad I’d take a look and that’s what I’ll do. We put the console down here, right?” He stepp
ed behind the counter next to Kim, placing the briefcase on the worktop. “I can run the diagnostic software from here. You said there were some visual distortions?”
Leo nodded.
“All the cameras?”
“Just the ones on the outside.”
Chris brought a computer out of the case, placed it next to the register and bent down under the counter. A second later he jumped up. “Sorry, ma’am!” he almost shouted. “I didn’t mean to touch your leg. It was an accident. I was trying to…”
Kim laughed. “Hey, it’s okay! No problem. I’ve had worse than that, I can tell you. Don’t worry about it.”
Chris was bright red, fiddling with his name badge, looking from Kim to Leo and then back to Kim again. “I’ll…I’ll try and be more careful,” he spluttered.
2
Leo went back to his storeroom, leaving Chris to his embarrassed small talk with Kim. It had been a while since there were two people in the store at the same time, and it was good to hear someone else’s voice for a change. He liked people, that was part of the attraction in running a store. He hadn’t known a thing about business when he retired from the ring, but he knew people and for the most part he enjoyed their company. If he didn’t have any customers, then he saw nobody. His entire life was centered on Leo’s Mini Mart. He listened to the conversation for a moment and grimaced. He was lonely.
It felt strange to hear the word in his head; to hear it in relation to his own state of mind. He was lonely. It was sad that the high point of his day, of his week, was that two people he barely knew were in his store. Even sadder was the fact that neither of them was here to see him, or to buy anything from him; they were here because they had to be. Their jobs dictated that they spend the evening with him.
He leaned over a box, resting his elbows on the top. What was he doing? What the hell was he doing here? Flogging a dying – or dead – horse, trying to forge a life out of boxes and chips, out of free sodas and toys nobody wanted. All that was left was a grim demise. The end of both him and the store.