Variations on a Theme Page 7

  ~-o0O0o-~

  There was only one thing I knew for certain about that case, and that was that I was going to be at the Laws’ house on Saturday, if only to make sure that nobody died.

  There were several twists before then.

  I was sitting at my desk minding my own business on Friday morning. I’d taken on a case involving a bookie, a horse and a newspaper man as a favour for George at the Twa Dugs, but nothing was moving and I was gathering dust, just sitting and smoking, when he popped back into the chair. I nearly swallowed the Camel.

  “Can you please stop doing that.”

  He didn’t listen. He was even more unkempt, his hair standing up in clumps as if he’d been trying to pull it out. His eyes looked red and bloodshot and sunk in dark shadows.

  “It’s not what I’ve done that’s the problem,” he said. “You have no idea what she’s done.”

  I sat back and tried to look nonchalant.

  “How about you tell me?”

  “No time,” he said. “Just stay away on Saturday. Please?”

  And once more, he popped off.

  There was one more surprise appearance before everything went bad. It happened on Saturday morning, at ten o’clock. He arrived with a pop in the chair, screamed, “No, not again.” He reached for the watch, but before he could reach the winder he popped away. In all it took perhaps two seconds. But it was long enough to give me an idea.

  I made a detour to the City Centre on the way to the Laws’ house, and had a short, if slightly confusing, chat with the owner. I got what I needed though, and had it in my pocket as I walked along the river to the house.

  Mr. Laws was waiting for me outside the gate.

  “We’re clear. I’ve gone to the lab for the day and she’s alone.”

  I tried to make sense of that sentence and failed.

  “This time travel shit is messing with my brain,” I said. “But I’m ready to go.”

  He showed me a handgun.

  “This should do the trick.”

  I nodded, playing along. Everything now relied on me playing along. That, and one other thing.

  “As you said… she has to die today. Shall we shake on it?”

  He seemed surprised, but put out his hand. I grabbed it with both of mine. At the same time I jerked my head towards the house.

  “What’s that?”

  It distracted him just long enough for me to make the switch. It went smoothly and he didn’t notice.

  “I’ll take the back door,” I said. “See you inside in a minute.”

  I intended to be back before then. I’d left him with a watch from the pawnbroker, and had taken his. My heart pounded and I felt slightly dizzy as I wound the time back two hours and pushed in the winder.

  There was a slight sensation of otherness then I felt solid once more. I walked round the front. Mr. Laws wasn’t there. I peered in the window. The clock had the same time as the watch on my wrist – two hours earlier than it should be.

  I had just enough time to put the whole plan in action. I made another trip to the pawnbroker, arriving at the same time as my earlier self. I tried not to look at myself as we talked. It is one thing looking in a mirror, but quite another finding your double standing shoulder to shoulder with you. Between the two of us we did just enough to convince Old Joe that the case was kosher. He demanded the whole story at a later date after I told him what I needed.

  It only took him ten minutes – nobody knows clocks better than Old Joe does.

  I took the watch, caught a cab back to the riverside house, got off early and crept through to the rear from the next door neighbour’s garden. I looked round the side of the house just in time to see myself go pop!

  From now on, it was all a matter of timing.

  I knew I was far off the map on this one. I was winging it – making it up as I went along. I just hoped I could get Mrs. Laws to do her part. If I had thought longer about it I might have turned up half an hour earlier and explained the situation to her, but it was too late now for any more uses of the watch.

  I slipped in the back door of the house. The sound of the television set came from the front. I walked through a quiet kitchen, heading towards the noise.

  I was almost too late. The man was already there, the pistol pointing straight at his wife’s midriff.

  “I’m sorry Marion,” he said. “But this has to be done.”

  To her credit she took it well. She put her hands on her hips and stared him out.

  “Do I get a reason?”

  “Do I really need another one?” he said and laughed. “I’ve been to the future. I didn’t like what I saw there.”

  His finger tightened on the trigger.

  “Stop,” I said. I stepped forward. “Surely, just by being here, we’ve already changed that future?”

  He stared at me.

  “I didn’t bring you along for a philosophy Q and A. Anyway, I know what I saw.”

  I stepped closer, hoping to get between the woman and the gun.

  “But you can’t know for sure. What harm is there in you taking another look… just in case?”

  At that, Mrs. Laws did indeed play her part. She turned to me.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve bought into this time-travel bullshit?”

  That got the man angry.

  “You never did give me any credit,” he said. “But you’ll see. Just watch this.”

  He twisted the winder of the watch at his wrist and pushed it in.

  Nothing happened.

  “I believe you need this one,” I said, taking the other watch from my wrist.

  He looked aghast.

  “You haven’t used it have you? What have you changed?”

  I gave him my biggest smile.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

  He showed me the gun again.

  “I’m not afraid to use this.”

  I laughed at him.

  “And how do you know that will achieve anything? You can either accept your fate, like the rest of us… or you can go and see for yourself.”

  He kept the gun on me as we swapped watches. He peered suspiciously at the one I gave him. I checked the time on the one he gave me.

  Almost there.

  He pointed the gun at his wife again. I saw in his eyes that he meant to pull the trigger, and to hell with the consequences.

  “You don’t want to do that,” I said. “You never know what might happen.”

  He smiled.

  “But that’s the beauty of this,” he said. “I have all the time in the world to find out.”

  He twisted the winder, pushed it in, and popped out of existence.

  “What the hell just happened?” the wife said.

  I waved her to silence and checked the watch.

  It’s time.

  He came back with an audible pop and looked around, confused.

  “What did you do?” he shouted, reaching for the winder. He never reached it. After exactly two seconds the winder whirred and snapped into position. Mr. Laws was staring straight at me, his eyes wide and his mouth open, as he popped away again.

  As I said before, Old Joe knows a lot about clocks. In particular, he knows how to make them jump, sometimes hours, sometimes days, both forward and back. And it only takes two seconds for the spring to reset and do it all again.

  ~-o0O0o-~

  I still see Mrs. Laws every so often. We meet, either in her house of my office, and discuss the nature of time, paradoxes, and just why her husband thought she had to die. Mr. Laws sometimes makes an appearance at one location or the other, but he never contributes much to the conversation.

  Two seconds isn’t a long time, and he uses most of it up screaming.

  A Waste Disposal Problem