Julius and the Watchmaker by Tim Hehir

stepped into the candle light. Julius jumped and looked around for something he could use as a weapon. The squeeze box let out a half-hearted death cry as the man pushed the ends together with his huge hands.
    â€˜I’ll have it,’ he said.
    Julius stared at the man, blood draining from his face. He knows about the diary, Higgins. He’ll slit your throat for it and not turn a hair.
    â€˜Okay,’ said Julius. ‘Er…would you like it wrapped?’
    â€˜I wouldn’t worry about that. I’ll play it as I go.’
    Julius paused while he tried to figure out what to say next. The man sniffed the air.
    â€˜Smells like a fish shop in here.’
    â€˜I know.’
    He’s playing with you, Higgins. He’ll snap you in two in the next second.
    â€˜Oh, before I forget. I have a bit of business to do as well,’ said the man, pulling a gold signet ring from his coat pocket. He placed it on the counter.
    â€˜Um, a nice signet ring. How much did you want for it?’ Well done, Higgins.
    â€˜That’s for you to say, now, isn’t it, young fella.’
    â€˜Yes, well…if you’ll excuse me for a moment, sir. I’ll have to confer with my associate,’ said Julius.
    He picked up the ring quickly so the man wouldn’t notice his trembling hand. It was heavy enough to be solid gold.
    â€˜Take your time, young fella. I have all the time in the world, so I have,’ said the man, and he touched the rim of his hat and grinned.
    Julius backed through the curtain and held the ring in front of Clements who was chewing on a fist-sized wad of bread. A mournful squeeze-box melody wafted in from the shop.
    â€˜How much for this?’ Julius asked.
    Clements snatched it and looked closely at the hallmark. ‘Gold, eighteen carat, nice workmanship. Offer him ten shillings, twelve if he wants to haggle.’
    â€˜Okay,’ said Julius.
    He returned to the shop and swallowed hard once again. ‘Twelve shillings, sir.’
    The man laughed and dropped the squeeze box on the counter. ‘Clements set the price, did he?’
    Julius nodded and placed the ring back on the counter. The man took in a deep breath and bellowed. ‘Come out here and talk to me face-to-face, Clements.’ The shop shook with the force of his voice.
    Julius’s knees went weak, and Clements’ sweaty face appeared from behind the curtain.
    â€˜Why, Mr Flynn, I didn’t know it was you. I do humbly beg your pardon,’ he said, wringing his hands as if he was washing them in the air.
    â€˜Well, now that you know who you’re dealing with, let’s hear a proper price.’
    â€˜Certainly, Mr Flynn, certainly,’ said Clements fumbling with the signet ring. ‘What would you say to ten pounds, Mr Flynn?’
    â€˜Add another two and you have yourself a deal, Mr Clements.’
    â€˜Two did you say. Well, um…let me think…um…very well, two it is, Mr Flynn.’
    â€˜You drive a hard bargain, Mr Clements, but it’s always a pleasure doing business with you,’ said the Irishman. Then he held out his hand to the pawnbroker, who shook it nervously.
    Clements bent down under the counter and counted out two five-pound notes and two sovereigns from the safe. ‘I’ll leave the boy to fill out the paperwork if you don’t mind, Mr Flynn. My dinner’s getting cold,’ he said, dropping the money on the counter.
    â€˜Not at all, Mr Clements, you get yourself inside. Kippers is it? The boy and I will sort things out,’ said the man.
    â€˜Higgins, help Mr Flynn to fill out the loan agreement. Fifteen pounds to reclaim the item, and all rights will forfeit in three months from this date. There’s the form,’ said Clements, before hurrying back into the kitchen.

CHAPTER 7
    Wednesday 5th July, 1837
7:32 PM
    Julius tried to stay calm. Think first, speak second, Higgins.
    â€˜Well, sir, please sign