2 A Different Shade Of Death (2 page)

BOOK: 2 A Different Shade Of Death
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Chapter 4

 

Pearl
didn’t appear for the rest of the day. Grace was kept busy with customers all
day. She ushered the last customer out at 6 p.m. and, with a sigh of relief,
she locked the door.

Within
two seconds someone was bashing on the door.

“We’re
closed!” Grace yelled out.

“It’s
me!” Frankie yelled back.

Grace
opened the door. “Why didn’t you use the back door?”

He
shrugged and walked into the shop. “I couldn’t be bothered. Wait until you see
what I got at auction today.”

Grace
studied her brother. “You look tired. Have you been at the auction all day?
Have you eaten?”

He
waved her concerns away. “The van is parked round the back. I’ve got some
awesome stuff.”

Grace
closed and locked the door again. “I’ll help you unpack.”

They
walked through the shop, into the kitchen and out into the yard. Frankie’s van
was parked across the yard.

Grace
frowned. “Why didn’t you come through the back door if you parked round here?”

Frankie
gave her a confused look. “I’m not sure, guess I’m not thinking straight. I’ve
got some quality stuff, Grace, just have a look at this.”

He
opened the van doors and stood back so Grace could admire his collection.

Grace
looked closer into the van. “Clothes? Racks of clothes?”

Frankie
climbed into the van. “Not just any clothes, quality clothes. Look.”

“Is
this all that you’ve bought?”

He
nodded. “I had to haggle with old Bert from the market. I got these for £1000,
a real bargain.”

Grace
looked closer at Frankie. Something wasn’t right. Frankie didn’t normally buy
clothes and, even though she wasn’t an expert, £1000 seemed too much for these.
Was she missing something?

Grace
climbed into the van and looked closer at the clothes. They were men’s clothes,
suits, shirts and trousers. She looked at the labels. Her eyebrows raised.
She’d definitely heard of these designers. Perhaps Frankie had got a bargain
after all. But would the people who came to their shop see it that way? Would
they actually sell these clothes?

Grace
helped Frankie unload the items. It was made easier because all of the clothes
were on racks. They wheeled them into the shop.

Frankie
picked up a jacket sleeve and smiled. “Quality stuff.”

Why
did he keep saying that?

“What
prices should we put on them?” Grace asked.

Frankie
released the sleeve and tapped the side of his nose. “Leave that to me, I know
what to charge. I’ll get some labels and sort this out now.”

Grace
place her hand on his arm. “No, you won’t. You look exhausted. I’ll make you a
cup of tea and a sandwich first.”

Frankie
shook his arm free. He gave her an angry look. “Don’t tell me what to do! I’m a
business man, I know what I’m doing!”

Grace
took a step back. She’d never seen Frankie like this before. He was usually so
laid back he was almost horizontal. His features didn’t look right, his eyes
were flashing with anger. Something was definitely wrong here, she was
beginning to suspect that something supernatural was going on.

Grace
gave Frankie a firm look and raised her voice. “Don’t talk to me like that,
Frankie Abrahams! You will have a cup of tea and a sandwich. Go and sit down at
the kitchen table. Now!”

Frankie
seemed to deflate, the anger vanished from his eyes. His hand flew to his
forehead and rubbed it. A look of pain flashed across his face. “Sorry, Grace,
I don’t know what came over me. I’ve been feeling a bit off all day.”

“That’s
okay.” Grace sat him at the kitchen table. She made his tea with decaffeinated
tea bags, he could do with a good sleep. She was almost tempted to crush some
herbal sleeping tablets up into his sandwich. She had a supply in her bag for
the nights when grief kept her awake.

He
didn’t need the sleeping tablets, his eyes began to droop within minutes. Grace
looked at the kitchen clock, it was only 7 p.m. What had he been doing to
become so tired?

Frankie
yawned. “Think I’ll have a little nap before I start on those clothes. You
don’t mind, do you?”

“Course
not. Sleep as long as you like. You can sort the clothes out tomorrow.”

Grace
helped him to his feet. His back was bent like an old man’s. This wasn’t like
Frankie at all. She even had to help him up the stairs to the room he had
decided to call home - the stock room above the shop. He had furnished it with
a bed and wardrobe and was quite happy living there. Grace helped him on to the
bed, his eyes were almost closed.

Frankie
gave her a tired smile and said, “Thanks, sis.”

Grace
turned the light out. She could hear his snores even before she left the room.

Anger
flared up in her. She marched down the stairs and back into the shop. She
stormed over to the rack of clothes and held up a shaking finger. She hissed,
“Come out, whoever you are. You’ve got some explaining to do!”

The
ghost of a man stepped out of a jacket. He sneered as he looked Grace up and
down. The anger in his eyes was the same as the anger that she’d seen in
Frankie’s eyes earlier.

He
folded his arms, his smile was mocking. “Don’t tell me what to do. I’m the one
who’s in charge. You’re going to do exactly as I say.”

 

Chapter 5

 

The
man stepped forward, he looked around the shop in an appraising manner.

Grace
took the chance to study him. He looked to be in his late thirties, maybe early
forties. It was obvious from his well fitted suit that he’d had money. His hair
was well cut and styled, his clean shaven faced showed handsome features.
Although the condescending look that he now wore lessened any attractiveness.

He
walked past Grace as if she didn’t exist. He strolled around the shop,
examining everything as he went. Grace heard him mumbling to himself.

 At
one point he took his mobile phone out and looked at it. Surely he couldn’t be
receiving messages?

He
came back to Grace. He waved his arm in the general direction of the shop and
said, “What a load of old rubbish.”

“It’s
supposed to be old, there are some antiques here,” Grace said. She was biding
her time, she wasn’t sure what this ghost was up to yet.

He
gave a laugh of derision. “I know that, it’s still a load of rubbish. Needs
clearing out, the lot of it. Who’s going to buy tat like this? You can get
better stuff at the market. I’m surprised you still have a business. Whoever’s
running this business is obviously an idiot.”

Still
keeping calm Grace replied, “This is a family business, run by me and my
brother. We’re doing well, we’re making a profit.”

The
man smirked as Grace spoke. She was finding it harder to remain calm.

He
shook his head as if speaking to a child. “This isn’t a proper business. You
need something that will make money fast, something that people want, something
that they will pay a lot of money for.”

Grace
folded her arms and looked away from him.

“You
know I’m right,” he went on. “That’s why I’m here. That’s why I made that young
man buy my old clothes.”

Grace’s
head turned back so quick she thought she heard it crack. “You made Frankie buy
your clothes? How? What did you do?”

Grace
had been influenced by ghosts before but she hadn’t known it happen to Frankie.
Could he see ghosts too? Was he too afraid or embarrassed to tell her?

The
man was still smirking. Grace was beginning to really dislike him. He said, “I
influenced him. It’s easy to influence the weak minded. I put the idea in his
head that if he’s going to be a successful business man then he needs to dress
like one. My clothes are ideal for him, and he got them at a bargain price.
These are quality clothes.”

Quality?
That’s the word that Frankie kept using.

Grace’s
eyes narrowed. “Are you influencing him now?”

The
man gave a shrug. “I might be. He needs my help, the sooner we get this
shambles of a business sorted out, the better.”

Grace
held her hands up. “No. It doesn’t work like that. You’re not here to help us.
We don’t need any help, we’re doing just fine on our own. As far as I know I’m
the one that can see ghosts, not Frankie,  and I’m the one who can help them.”

The
man snorted. “Help? I don’t need help from you. You’re as stupid looking as
your brother. It’s obvious you need my help. We’ll start with the accounts. I
presume you have account books, go and get them.”

“No.”

The
man stiffened. “No one tells me ‘no’. Go and do it. Now.”

“No,”
Grace repeated. She folded her arms again. She wasn’t going to hep this ghost.
If he had been murdered he wasn’t showing any signs of it. She wasn’t sure why
he was here, and she didn’t want to find out.

The
man’s hand flew to his forehead, just as Frankie’s had done earlier. And
Pearl’s. He winced and bent over.

Grace’s
arms dropped to her side, she moved closer to him. “What is it? Are you in pain?”

He
looked up, his mouth opened and closed, no words came out.

“He
is in pain. He’s feeling the same things that I felt earlier.” Pearl appeared
in front of Grace.

“What’s
going on, Pearl? Why is he here? Why is he in pain? And why is he affecting you
and Frankie?”

Pearl
shook her head. “I don’t know all the answers but I do know that this man was
murdered and that me and Frankie are experiencing his symptoms.”

The
man gasped for breath.

“What
can we do? I have to do something! Pearl!”

“Calm
down. Look, he’s getting his breath back. Let him talk.”

“How
can he get his breath back? He’s a ghost.”

The
man straightened up, his breathing sounded shallow.

Pearl
said, “He’s reliving his last few days, I’ve seen this before. You have to help
him, Grace.”

“But
how? And why? He’s not a nice man,” Grace said. She felt a pang of guilt
admitting it but it was true, he was obnoxious.

In
a soft voice Pearl said, “For some reason your Frankie is experiencing the same
symptoms, if this man’s murderer isn’t brought to justice this ghost will
continue to relive his death over and over again.”

Grace
felt a trickle of fear slide down her back. She looked at the man and then at
Pearl. “Does that mean that Frankie will keep experiencing these symptoms? Will
he be in pain?”

Pearl
nodded. “Grace, Frankie could die.”

 

Chapter 6

 

When
Grace looked back at the man he seemed to have recovered. He gave Grace a
confused look and said, “Where am I? What am I doing here?”

Grace
took a deep breath to steady her nerves. In a steely voice she said, “You
forced my brother to buy your clothes, you forced your way into our shop and
now you’re trying to tell us how to run our business! And whatever killed you
is now trying to kill my brother!”

The
man’s forehead wrinkled. “I’m a bit confused. Where are we? Who are you?”

Pearl
said to Grace, “You need to calm down. I know you’re annoyed, and worried about
Frankie but this ghost isn’t the cause, we need to find out who murdered him. We
need to find out more about him.”

Grace
said, “Can’t we just throw him and his clothes out of the shop?”

“We
could, but that means whoever murdered him is going to get away with it.”

“I
don’t care,” Grace said. She knew she was being unreasonable but she couldn’t
seem to stop herself.

“Stop
that right now!” Pearl exploded. “You’re acting like a child. You’ve got this
gift of seeing ghosts and helping them, and you will use it! You don’t get to
pick and choose which ones to help, they come to you. Get yourself together and
start asking him some questions.”

Grace
took a step back. Pearl was smaller than her but her anger made her bigger.
Grace said, “But what about Frankie?”

Pearl
said, “I’ll deal with Frankie, he’ll be fine. And don’t ask me how I’ll deal
with him! That’s for me to know, not you.”

Pearl
and Grace stared at each other for a moment. Then Pearl let out a bark of
laughter. “I like you more with this spark of defiance in you! That’s just what
you need in this business.”

“The
shop business?” Grace asked, a smile growing on her face.

“The
murder business! Now, get on with it.”

Grace
and Pearl turned back to the man. He was rubbing his head again. Grace’s
thoughts flew to Frankie, she hoped he was fast asleep and not feeling any of
this man’s pain.

She
addressed the man. “Let’s start from the beginning. I’m Grace Abrahams, this is
Pearl. I presume you can see her?”

The
man nodded. “I can hear her too, she’s loud for an old woman.”

“What’s
your name? Can you remember it?” Grace asked.

He
rubbed his head again. “It’s Charlie. I think. Sorry, my head hurts. I didn’t think
I’d feel any pain once I was dead. Why am I here?”

Grace
was glad to see that his obnoxiousness had gone. Maybe that had just been a
show, a business persona that he’d had to adopt when he was alive. She said, “I
can see ghosts and I can help them. I recently helped a ghost who had been
murdered. She came to me because the man who murdered her had got away with it.
I suppose her spirit wouldn’t let her rest until he was brought to justice. I’m
assuming the same is true of you.”

The
man shook his head, wincing as he did so. “Why would anyone kill me?”

Pearl
pointed a finger at him. “You acted like a complete prat when you first
appeared to Grace. I heard what you were saying, ordering her about like she
was a piece of dirt. If you were like that when you were alive then there was
probably a queue of people waiting to do you in!”

“Pearl,”
Grace said. “I can handle this. He seems different now.”

Pearl
tutted. “Don’t forget first impressions, they tell you about the character of a
person.”

Charlie
said, “I’m sorry about my behaviour. I’m not sure what’s going on. I think you
might be right about a murder though. My head really hurts and so does my
stomach. I might have been poisoned. Oh! What’s wrong with my head? It feels
like it’s turned into a washing machine! I can’t grab my thoughts.”

Charlie
swayed slightly.

Grace
looked at Pearl and raised her eyebrows. Pearl gave her a knowing nod and
stepped forward. She slowly placed her ghost hands on Charlie’s head. She
closed her eyes and muttered something. Then she opened her eyes, lowered her
hands and returned to Grace.

Charlie
blinked rapidly. “Oh, that’s better. I don’t know what you did but I feel much
better, thanks.”

“You’re
welcome,” Pearl said quietly.

Grace
shot her a look. Pearl shot her one back and said, “Don’t even think of asking
what I’ve just done. Get your questions in before he has another funny turn.”

Grace
frowned at the old woman but turned back to Charlie. “Can you tell me more
about yourself?”

He
smiled. Grace noted it was a genuine smile and not the smirk that he’d shown
her earlier.

He
said, “My name is Charlie Ford.”

Ford?

Grace
reached into her pocket and took out the business card that she’d been given
earlier. She showed it to Charlie and said, “Is this one of your cards?”

“It
is. And Amy is my wife. Have you met her?”

Grace
looked over at Pearl. Was Pearl thinking the same thing as her?

She
was. Pearl said, “Most murders are committed by people known to the victim, and
most women kill by using poison.”

Grace
looked back at Charlie. He laughed and said, “Don’t tell me that you think Amy
killed me? By somehow poisoning me?”

Grace
pressed her lips together. She didn’t want to say it but that’s exactly what
she was thinking.

 

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