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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Mystery
- Subject: Mystery
- Published: 08/30/2013
My mobile vibrated into life.
"It's my day off." I told the caller.
“I know John, sorry,” came the reply. “But I’ve arrested a young lad involved with yesterday’s failed robbery attempt of the Post Office and he’s really frightened.”
"DI Silver," I exclaimed, "I'm having lunch with Kimberley."
"John Handful," he sighed. It always meant he was desperate when he used my full name in conversation. “I need your help to help me close this case.”
"Can't it wait until tomorrow?"
“No, I’m afraid it can’t.”
“What is all this about?” I pressed. “What’s he so frightened of?”
“He’s saying that while he was sitting outside the post office, the car the gang had stolen for the getaway turned into a time machine.”
*
The interview suite had recently been refurbished. Decorated in pastel colours it was now furnished with padded chairs and seaside prints on the wall. Archie was about eighteen and looked like a rabbit in the headlights. He stalked the four corners with his head down and hands in his pockets. I asked him to sit down. He did only for a moment. Each new question set him in motion again.
A lawyer from Legal Services had been summoned to advise him. Middle-aged and business-like, Rowena Crutchley tucked her briefcase between her knees and sat with a large foolscap pad beneath her clasped hands.
Once I had introduced myself, I turned my attention to the reason I had been called to the police station.
“What is this all about, Archie?”
“I was telling the Detective Inspector,” he sniffed, nervously. “My car turned into a bloody time machine. Just like that thing from Doctor Who.”
“Tardis,” I told him.
“That’s it.”
“It’s not real,” I reiterated.
“You weren’t there.”
“Tell me what happened,” I persisted.
“I was the getaway driver for the post office job,” he said. “They went in at quarter to six in the evening as planned, to catch the staff cashing up for the day. The boys told me not leave the car running but be ready to go exactly at six o’clock.”
“Where did you get the car from?”
“Nicked it from Magnolia Close.”
“When?”
“In the morning.”
“Was it in good condition?”
“Not really,” he shook his head. “But it did get bashed about a bit, while I got used to the gears and how it went and that.”
He laughed, but stopped when he realised he was the only one laughing.
“Go on.”
“Everything seemed to be going to plan and I looked at the clock on the dashboard and I saw that it was five to six. I was getting nervous now, checking the time every minute. The next time I looked it was four minutes to six. I got distracted by a pretty girl walking past. She smiled at me and I smiled back and I watched her walk her all the way down the street. She had a lovely arse. Then, when I looked again at the clock it still said, four minutes to six. I was thinking how time drags by when you’re tense. I looked again. It said five to six. I started to panic. Time was going backwards. I thought I was losing my mind. Then the boys came out of the post office and I wasn’t ready. I tried to start the car in a hurry and I stalled it. The boys were angry with me, they ran off down the street when they heard the police sirens and I was stuck there. I checked the clock again and the time was right.”
“Then what happened?”
“The boys were eventually caught and I was arrested outside the post office," he shrugged. “I reckon one of them probably grassed me up. I’ll sort that out later. What I want to know is, while I was sitting in that car, what was happening to time?”
*
“What do you think?” DI Silver asked, as I emerged from the interview room. I knew he had been watching me through the two-way mirror and had heard every word that Archie had said.
“Is that what he said to your earlier?” I asked.
“Almost word for word,” he replied.
“He’s more scared about what happened in the car, than the fact he’s going to be put away for a very long time.”
“I know,” DI Silver agreed. “Stupid isn’t it?”
“Odd,” I shrugged. “Where’s the car now?”
“In the compound out the back?”
*
The car was a ten year old blue Audi, which had seen better days. It had dents on the front right wing. Some were new, some were rusty. It looked just like the sort of car you would find down Magnolia Close.
The search took me twenty minutes before I found what I was looking for. I had covered everything. Under the bonnet, in the boot, under the bumpers and then I moved on to the interior and it was after searching under the seats, in the seats and under the carpets, that I checked the dashboard and found the secret of Archie’s time machine.
DI Silver had stood about twenty feet away while I carried out my search and I called him over when I was finished. I showed him what I had found and the smile on his face was one of the biggest I had ever seen.
*
Archie was brought up from the cells to the interview room again. For a few moments I watched from the darkness of the observation suite as he walked carefully across the floor, turning and retracing his steps, trying to put his feet carefully on exactly the same squares of carpet.
I opened the door and startled him. The look of fear in his eyes had, if anything, deepened.
The Legal Aid solicitor followed me into the room and took up her position.
I said nothing. I reached across the interview table and took Rowena Crutchley’s foolscap pad and with my own pen starting writing. When I had finished I turned the pad round, so that the lawyer and her client could see what I had written. The look of equal incredulity on their faces was a sight to behold.
“What is this?” She looked at me as though I was mad.
“This is how your client’s stolen vehicle became a time machine.”
They both looked leaned forward and looked again at the foolscap pad.
11:55.
A minute later.
11:56.
Two minutes later:
11:56 instead of 11:58
A minute later:
11:55 instead of 11:59
And at six o’clock.
18:0C
“I don’t understand,” Archie said. He was breathing in rapid, truncated gasps and his forehead was beaded with sweat. “I know what I saw!”
His lawyer wanted to intervene. I raised my hand slightly; wanting just a moment more.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of Archie,” I told him civilly. “You admitted that the car was unfamiliar to you. You probably hadn’t even checked the clock until you needed to.”
“No, I hadn’t.” He admitted with embarrassment.
“It’s OK,” I told him. “Just relax.” I poured him a cup of water.
He reached forward, needing two hands to raise the cup to his lips. His eyes were watching me as he drank.
“The clock on the dashboard was digital and the top-right vertical stroke of the last digit was not working.” I jabbed the foolscap pad with my index finger. “That was why you thought you were going back in time one minute and then going forward the next.”
Archie burst out laughing. “My God, what a bloody idiot I’ve been.”
I stood up. “You were a bloody idiot when you tried to help your mates steal that car and rob the post office.” With an air of finality I walked to the door and spoke back into the room. “Don’t worry about it though, Archie. You’ll have plenty of opportunity to make up for Lost Time.”
*
LOST TIME(ANDREW HIXSON)
My mobile vibrated into life.
"It's my day off." I told the caller.
“I know John, sorry,” came the reply. “But I’ve arrested a young lad involved with yesterday’s failed robbery attempt of the Post Office and he’s really frightened.”
"DI Silver," I exclaimed, "I'm having lunch with Kimberley."
"John Handful," he sighed. It always meant he was desperate when he used my full name in conversation. “I need your help to help me close this case.”
"Can't it wait until tomorrow?"
“No, I’m afraid it can’t.”
“What is all this about?” I pressed. “What’s he so frightened of?”
“He’s saying that while he was sitting outside the post office, the car the gang had stolen for the getaway turned into a time machine.”
*
The interview suite had recently been refurbished. Decorated in pastel colours it was now furnished with padded chairs and seaside prints on the wall. Archie was about eighteen and looked like a rabbit in the headlights. He stalked the four corners with his head down and hands in his pockets. I asked him to sit down. He did only for a moment. Each new question set him in motion again.
A lawyer from Legal Services had been summoned to advise him. Middle-aged and business-like, Rowena Crutchley tucked her briefcase between her knees and sat with a large foolscap pad beneath her clasped hands.
Once I had introduced myself, I turned my attention to the reason I had been called to the police station.
“What is this all about, Archie?”
“I was telling the Detective Inspector,” he sniffed, nervously. “My car turned into a bloody time machine. Just like that thing from Doctor Who.”
“Tardis,” I told him.
“That’s it.”
“It’s not real,” I reiterated.
“You weren’t there.”
“Tell me what happened,” I persisted.
“I was the getaway driver for the post office job,” he said. “They went in at quarter to six in the evening as planned, to catch the staff cashing up for the day. The boys told me not leave the car running but be ready to go exactly at six o’clock.”
“Where did you get the car from?”
“Nicked it from Magnolia Close.”
“When?”
“In the morning.”
“Was it in good condition?”
“Not really,” he shook his head. “But it did get bashed about a bit, while I got used to the gears and how it went and that.”
He laughed, but stopped when he realised he was the only one laughing.
“Go on.”
“Everything seemed to be going to plan and I looked at the clock on the dashboard and I saw that it was five to six. I was getting nervous now, checking the time every minute. The next time I looked it was four minutes to six. I got distracted by a pretty girl walking past. She smiled at me and I smiled back and I watched her walk her all the way down the street. She had a lovely arse. Then, when I looked again at the clock it still said, four minutes to six. I was thinking how time drags by when you’re tense. I looked again. It said five to six. I started to panic. Time was going backwards. I thought I was losing my mind. Then the boys came out of the post office and I wasn’t ready. I tried to start the car in a hurry and I stalled it. The boys were angry with me, they ran off down the street when they heard the police sirens and I was stuck there. I checked the clock again and the time was right.”
“Then what happened?”
“The boys were eventually caught and I was arrested outside the post office," he shrugged. “I reckon one of them probably grassed me up. I’ll sort that out later. What I want to know is, while I was sitting in that car, what was happening to time?”
*
“What do you think?” DI Silver asked, as I emerged from the interview room. I knew he had been watching me through the two-way mirror and had heard every word that Archie had said.
“Is that what he said to your earlier?” I asked.
“Almost word for word,” he replied.
“He’s more scared about what happened in the car, than the fact he’s going to be put away for a very long time.”
“I know,” DI Silver agreed. “Stupid isn’t it?”
“Odd,” I shrugged. “Where’s the car now?”
“In the compound out the back?”
*
The car was a ten year old blue Audi, which had seen better days. It had dents on the front right wing. Some were new, some were rusty. It looked just like the sort of car you would find down Magnolia Close.
The search took me twenty minutes before I found what I was looking for. I had covered everything. Under the bonnet, in the boot, under the bumpers and then I moved on to the interior and it was after searching under the seats, in the seats and under the carpets, that I checked the dashboard and found the secret of Archie’s time machine.
DI Silver had stood about twenty feet away while I carried out my search and I called him over when I was finished. I showed him what I had found and the smile on his face was one of the biggest I had ever seen.
*
Archie was brought up from the cells to the interview room again. For a few moments I watched from the darkness of the observation suite as he walked carefully across the floor, turning and retracing his steps, trying to put his feet carefully on exactly the same squares of carpet.
I opened the door and startled him. The look of fear in his eyes had, if anything, deepened.
The Legal Aid solicitor followed me into the room and took up her position.
I said nothing. I reached across the interview table and took Rowena Crutchley’s foolscap pad and with my own pen starting writing. When I had finished I turned the pad round, so that the lawyer and her client could see what I had written. The look of equal incredulity on their faces was a sight to behold.
“What is this?” She looked at me as though I was mad.
“This is how your client’s stolen vehicle became a time machine.”
They both looked leaned forward and looked again at the foolscap pad.
11:55.
A minute later.
11:56.
Two minutes later:
11:56 instead of 11:58
A minute later:
11:55 instead of 11:59
And at six o’clock.
18:0C
“I don’t understand,” Archie said. He was breathing in rapid, truncated gasps and his forehead was beaded with sweat. “I know what I saw!”
His lawyer wanted to intervene. I raised my hand slightly; wanting just a moment more.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of Archie,” I told him civilly. “You admitted that the car was unfamiliar to you. You probably hadn’t even checked the clock until you needed to.”
“No, I hadn’t.” He admitted with embarrassment.
“It’s OK,” I told him. “Just relax.” I poured him a cup of water.
He reached forward, needing two hands to raise the cup to his lips. His eyes were watching me as he drank.
“The clock on the dashboard was digital and the top-right vertical stroke of the last digit was not working.” I jabbed the foolscap pad with my index finger. “That was why you thought you were going back in time one minute and then going forward the next.”
Archie burst out laughing. “My God, what a bloody idiot I’ve been.”
I stood up. “You were a bloody idiot when you tried to help your mates steal that car and rob the post office.” With an air of finality I walked to the door and spoke back into the room. “Don’t worry about it though, Archie. You’ll have plenty of opportunity to make up for Lost Time.”
*
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