Chase the Morning

The man’s eyes widened and he flapped his hands and cawed in helpless surprise. I felt suddenly ashamed, and caught Jyp’s wrist; it felt like steel cable. ‘Let him down, Jyp! He can’t answer you if he chokes!’

Jyp said nothing, but he released the man, who almost collapsed behind the counter. ‘But captain,’ he wheezed, ‘I haven’t the slightest – I really do not understand – if I have somehow given offence, I – I am really not as young as I was, you understand, it is not as easy for me to arrange matters as – I do not presume –’ Even stammering, he remained beautifully spoken.

‘You couldn’t get down there yourself, then?’ I prompted him. He drew a deep breath, and smoothed down his ruffled whiskers.

‘No indeed, sir! For smaller loads I can fit in my car, certainly – but the roots are a large vanload, and I no longer maintain one.’

Jyp tapped the marble-topped counter thoughtfully, and looked around the little shop. ‘That so? Why’d you order so much, then? You mean to leave it with us, and just pick it up piecemeal as you need it?’

Frederick permitted himself a pitying smirk. ‘At such rates of tonnage and floorage, sir? Hardly. No, I have a most obliging neighbour who maintains a suitable van, and has promised to go down and collect the roots when next he has a few hours free; but he has not managed it yet, and naturally in these matters one does not wish to press …’

Jyp’s lined face had gone very cold. ‘Maybe it’s about time one did. C’mon, Fred, you’re going to introduce us. This instant.’

‘Whatever you wish, captain, whatever …’ babbled the old man as Jyp drew him irresistibly out from behind the counter. ‘But I assure you … Mr Cuffee … most pleasant and helpful fellow-tradesman …’ Jyp propelled him gently out into the street. ‘So large a purchase … the advantages of buying in, ah, bulk, if I may venture upon the vulgar phrase … His initiative entirely –’

‘Was it now?’ enquired Jyp, with gentle menace. ‘High time we had a word with such an enterprising guy. Now which door might his be?’

It was the furniture shop. I jabbed the plastic bell-push labelled Cuffee, heard the harsh shrilling echo through the place, but nothing stirred. Again, and there was nothing, and no light in the upstairs windows. Again, and the old man blinked. ‘How unusual! He is most often at home at this time. And his truck is not in its customary place. Perhaps he is clearing a house somewhere –’

‘Perhaps,’ I said. I looked at Jyp. ‘Unless he’s running that little errand right now –’

Jyp whirled. ‘The warehouse – c’mon!’ He loped off down the street, dragging the protesting shopkeeper stumbling after him, green apron flapping in the heavy air.

‘But captain – my shop – it’s not locked up –’

‘It won’t blow away! Steve, this time can you really hit the gas?’

‘If you’re sure it’s that im –’

‘I’m sure. I’m goddam sure! Though I’d just love to be wrong.’

‘Well …’ I swallowed. ‘I can try.’

The tyres screeched on the cobbles as we swung around the corner, and Frederick, tumbled headlong in the back, added a note of his own.

‘Stop!’ barked Jyp, crouched pale and drawn beside me. I stamped hard on the pedal, and he braced himself stiff-armed against the dashboard; he’d had speed enough to last him awhile. The back end almost broke away, fish-tailed madly for a moment before I brought her to a snaking, slithering sideways stop. I flicked off the ignition and slumped over the wheel, fighting off the manic laughter of relief. To think I’d ever baulked at a red light …

‘We’re here!’ said Jyp.

Following his gaze, I saw the same dim street, all quiet, all mundane, the same pile of scaffolding, the pale light over the warehouse door, quay and ocean beyond hidden in the shadow of emptiness; not a soul in sight. But Jyp snapped his fingers and pointed; from the shadows beyond us my headlights awoke twin answering glitters, and gleamed faintly on the dark bulk of a furniture van. Then the sea-breeze sighed a little, and the dark line dividing the warehouse doors seemed to deepen for an instant.

Jyp fought the doorhandle, then he was out and running. I tumbled out more awkwardly and sprinted after him. I caught him up as he reached the doors; they were ajar, creaking slightly in the breeze. There was no other sound, and still nobody in sight. Cautiously Jyp pushed the door back. Inside it was blackness, tinged with a thousand peculiar odours. Nothing moved, and I stepped after him, saw his silhouette in the faint light from outside cast around this way and that – then trip over what looked like a sack on the floor just inside the door, grunt and stoop down to it, turn it over. Emptiness gaped up at us, a ghastly mockery of my own surprise, all wide eyes and sagging jaw. I didn’t know the man; and never would, now.

‘Remendado,’ whispered Jyp hoarsely. The day man – I should have relieved him about ten minutes back –’