Open Writing

A dirty old man in a tattered coat, his spectacles mended with sticky tape, stumbled into Archie's Antiques waving an antique brooch. Customers shrank from the cloud of alcoholic fumes and Sam hurried him to the back of the shop. Sam's niece, Sandra, took her uncle's place at the till.

'Just call me Ryan, mate,' the old man said going into a rambling tale about 'me Gran, dead these thirty years,' who left him the brooch, and the 'bloody run of bad luck' that made him sell it.

Sam's friend, Edward Destranger, came into the shop during the transaction, and Ryan told his whole story again. They were glad when he finally left the shop, clutching a handful of notes that, Edward Destranger guessed, would soon be traded for wine.

'Just hope he buys himself a decent meal,' Sam said, while Sandra wished he'd spend some money on soap. 'But he'll just drink himself silly,' she said.

She was wrong, as she had to admit, the following week.

'You'll never guess who I saw yesterday,' she said, when she came to work. 'My unfavourite dirty old man.'

'Old Ryan?'

'The fellow himself. Peter and I stopped in Dan's café, you know the one, over the other side of town, and there he was, hoeing into one of Dan's big steaks.'

'Put everyone else off their food.' Sam said dryly, but Sandra shook her head.

'Nobody seemed to mind. We could hardly go up and take a whiff, but I don't think he smelled too bad. The place was crowded and we saw one woman take her coffee and sit at his table.'

'That's hard to believe.' Edward Destranger had joined them in time to hear Sandra's tale, 'Perhaps they were old friends.'

'No way. Ryan finished his steak before she sat down. Soon as the girl took his plate away he pulled out a book. He read while he finished his coffee and he didn't look up. Didn't even move those awful old spectacles out of the way of her plate. She nearly put her steak on top of them. She must have said something then because he gulped down his tea and put them on. Actually I felt mean,' Sandra said. 'I'm almost sure the old man saw us, but I dragged Peter outside. You know what Ryan was like when he got talking.'

'He was a regular pest,' Sam said, 'but it sounds as if he's sobering up. I guess that means we won't see him again.'

'I'm sure you will,' said Edward Destranger. 'But next time he comes in, have Sandra phone the police.'

Which is what Sandra did the next afternoon, when Ryan, his old smelly self again, turned up. This time it was his granddad's silver ring, that he would not have sold if times were not so hard and 'I have t' pay me bills.'

Sandra felt a fool on the phone when all she could say was 'My uncle thinks ... ' but that was enough to interest the police.

The sergeant did not know Ryan, but he recognised the ring, and when Sam produced the broach, it also featured on a list—as stolen property.

How did Edward Destranger know 'old' Ryan was putting on an act?

He noted that while most elderly people put their glasses on to read, Old Ryan took his off. That he put them on when he noticed Sandra suggested they were part of a disguise, like the whisky smelling coat he kept for his visits to Archie's Antiques. The young 'Old Ryan', was a skilful thief, his 'heirlooms' all the proceeds of his trade.

© Robin Hillard

Robin writes for Bonzer! magazine. Please visit www.bonzer.org.au