Pack Animals - By Peter Anghelides Page 0,28

her hand and pointed unwaveringly at its head. She holstered it again, noting that Rhys’s face registered something between shock and admiration.

The empty shop had a locker-room smell, as though a football team had recently vacated it. A forlorn-looking papier-mâché diorama, painted and laid out like a battlefield, filled a section at the rear. Several carved figures had tumbled, discarded or forgotten, next to a couple of dice that had more than six sides. A handful of dog-eared MonstaQuest cards were strewn on the far side of the table.

Gwen rotated the blister packs that hung on wire racks by the till. She definitely recognised a couple of miniature Weevils and a Hoix – though the packaging called them ‘Toothsome’ and ‘Maymer’. The other models were new to her, including one with two heads like snarling, spitting snakes. Another had a long tail and neck, with a horn in the middle of its forehead that made her think it looked like an angry diplodocus.

‘We’re closed,’ snapped a thin voice. It belonged to an equally thin man, who stood up from behind the till counter, almost as though he’d been hiding there. The shopkeeper’s dark hair spiralled wildly about his head. His abrupt appearance made Gwen jump involuntarily, which seemed to amuse him. He turned to face Rhys, and a look of recognition spread slowly across his face.

The shopkeeper’s mouth twisted into what might have been a smile or a grimace. The tiny teeth and a wide expanse of gum made him resemble some kind of pasty boxer. ‘Hullo,’ he said, ‘have you come back for your change, then?’

‘Oh, aye,’ Rhys laughed. ‘Left in a bit of a hurry.’ He offered his hand.

The shopkeeper started to fumble in his till.

‘No,’ laughed Rhys. ‘I was introducing myself, proper like. I’m Rhys, and this is Gwen.’

‘Dillon.’ The shopkeeper shook his hand, and sheepishly gave him another gummy smile. He ignored Gwen. ‘I remember. Gave me a tenner, for the MonstaQuest pack. Then hoofed it when the alarm went off. S’why I always take the money before I hand anything over.’

Rhys jerked his thumb in the direction of the main mall. ‘You didn’t evacuate with everyone else, then?’

‘So many false alarms these days,’ said Dillon dismissively. ‘But I might as well close up the place now. Sales have been rubbish. But this – busiest trading day of the week? It might put me out of business.’

Rhys looked surprised. ‘You said this MonstaQuest thing was really popular. Thought you must be coining it there, mate.’

‘Not me. Gareth’s the one making all the money on this. I’m just a niche supplier.’ He pronounced it to rhyme with ‘hitch’, and spat the word like it was a curse.

‘This is what we came to talk to you about,’ interrupted Gwen impatiently. She pushed a ‘Toothsome’ blister pack across the counter.

‘Seven ninety-nine,’ said the shopkeeper.

‘I thought you were closed?’ Gwen replied, irritated by the misunderstanding. ‘But I’m not buying.’ She was aware that Rhys was scowling sidelong at her. Well, what did he want? He’d be chatting with this guy all day and getting nowhere. ‘Where did these models come from?’

‘Who wants to know?’

‘Trading Standards.’

The shopkeeper’s lips set in a narrow line. ‘You can sod off then.’

Rhys blew out a sigh. ‘Nice one.’ It took Gwen a moment to spot that he was muttering at her. ‘Please, Dillon. We need your help.’

‘Oh, you’re Nice Cop, are you?’ The shopkeeper looked between them warily. ‘You don’t scare me.’ His till snapped shut with an emphatic bang. ‘Told you, we’re closed. You can see yourselves out.’ And with this, he was off to the rear of the shop, where he began to tidy up the papier-mâché landscape.

Rhys put his hand on Gwen’s arm to stop her rushing after the thin man. He joined the shopkeeper at the diorama, and began to put model Weevils into a box while Dillon scooped up the scattered MonstaQuest cards from the painted surface. ‘Come on, mate. What harm can it do?’

‘What do you care?’ muttered Dillon

Gwen could hear in Rhys’s voice that he was struggling to keep calm. ‘What about this Gareth? Got an address for him? Where can we find this mate of yours?’

Dillon snatched a Weevil model from Rhys’s fingers. ‘He’s no mate of mine. Not any more!’ he shouted. Gwen was alarmed to see the tendons sticking out in the shopkeeper’s thin neck. MonstaQuest cards quivered in his fist – a couple of growling Weevils, and a fiery monster than looked as inflamed