The clerk looked up, they bell had rung and in had come a policeman. That didn't happen often, and it didn't bode well. Usually, the police couldn't find the shop, unless it wanted to be found. The fact that the clerk looked up after the bell rang indicated that the shop hadn't been expecting anyone to come through that door.
"May I help you, officer? Something for the Policeman's Masquerade Ball, perhaps?" he said gesturing to a nearby rack of costumes.
"Policeman's Masquerade Ball?" said the officer looking at the young man behind the counter. Was this guy some sort of joker? There was no such thing as a Policeman's Masquerade Ball in the last 50 years, and there wouldn't be again after what happened in 1963. He glared at the guy.
"Officer?" the clerk asked nervously.
"Actually, sergeant," the policeman said, "Sergeant Murphy. And you are?" he flipped open his notebook and started writing.
"Saints preserve us," the clerk whispered under his breath, "He's a Murphy."
He cleared his throat and said loudly, "Algernon Jonas Sneed, at your service."
"Are you the owner?"
"Uh, no. I am not."
"Who is the owner?"
"I couldn't say."
"Well, you better."
"I mean, that I do not know. I was hired by a newspaper advertisement, and receive my pay through the mail."
"When were you hired?"
"Oh, so long ago, I couldn't really say," Algernon answered. He was lying of course. He remembered that October day in 1929 quite well. The stock market had just crashed, and his boss had jumped out of his window. He saw the ad in the paper where he was sure there had been an ad for lingerie a moment before. He walked into the shop, and he had been there ever since.
"Okay, how about you give me your birth date and social security number."
"Social security number?" Algernon asked, he had never heard of one of those.
"How about a driver's license."
"Oh, I don't drive," Algernon answered. How could he, he couldn't leave the store.
"Well, Mr. Sneed, you have a lot of merchandise here," Sergeant Murphy said waving his hand around.
"Yes indeed."
"So you must get shipments," the policeman said, "So how about showing me some invoices."
"Invoices?"
The clerk looked at the old filing cabinet in the corner. He had never seen a bill of laden or an invoice or even a deliveryman. Stock just filled empty shelves when he turned his back. Perhaps there were invoices and bills of laden. There should be. Why hadn't he looked before?
"Perhaps in here?" he said uncertainly, and he opened the top drawer. It was full of files. Meticulously organized files. He took out a handful of folders and set them on the counter in amazement.
"Just a minute. Where's Detective Parker? He was right behind me. He will want to see these."
Detective Parker was looking up and down the street. Where had Murphy gone. He tried his cell phone again. Still no signal. He glanced across the street to where the car was parked in front of a vacant lot. He blinked. The lot wasn't vacant anymore. There was shop there. Murphy was standing in the doorway motioning for the detective.
"Where've you been, detective? This guy's really suspicious. I am sure he was involved in the disappearances."
"Uh, phone call, sorry." Parker waved the phone as explanation. He was only two years to retirement. He couldn't crack up now. How had the shop not been there, and suddenly be there? he wondered.
"Yes, we are investigating some disappearances, uh," Parker began.
"Algernon Sneed," the sergeant offered.
"Mr. Sneed?" Parker said, "Can you help us with our inquiries. Do you recognize either of these men?"
A photo of John and Vandal taken by a store or bank security camera was handed him.
"I think they might have stopped in the shop last week. A couple costumes went missing, and I didn't see these two young men leave. However, I did see a couple of strange characters right afterward. A man all dressed in leather with an overweight man in the oddest get up you've ever seen a pink thong and boa. I imagine your security camera probably photographed them. Perhaps they know where those boys went with my costumes?"
"You didn't see them leave?"
"No."
"Do you have surveillance video?"
"Never needed any before,"
"Mind, if we look around?"
"Be my guest. I've got nothing to hide," said Algernon wondering if the store would take care of John's and Vandal's clothes or if he might have some more trouble. Maybe if they left the store or tried on something? He licked his lips. Murphy might be able to resist the shop's magic, but the detective seemed susceptible. "Detective, wouldn't your sergeant look cute wearing this?" He handed the object to Parker, who suddenly felt a compulsion to put it on Murphy.