Extreme! by J A Mawter Read Free Book Online Page A

the sword.
    ‘It is,’ said Mio. ‘It’s a Tantō sword which has a hira zukuri blade—smooth with no ridges. The sword was used by samurai, but women and children carried small ones for protection.’
    Bryce shuddered as he joked, ‘Remind me not to get on your wrong side.’
    ‘Actually,’ said Mio, ‘it’s commonly called a hara-kiri knife.’
    ‘ Hara-kiri ?’ asked Tong.
    ‘For seppuku . Ritual suicide.’
    ‘Oh.’ Bryce thought for a moment. ‘Maybe I’d only like some things about Japan.’
    Just then, Yuki, Mio’s cat, leapt onto the desk, making Bryce jump.
    ‘Now, here’s something beautiful from Japan,’ said Clem, stroking the sleek snow-white body with its dramatic black splotches and plumed tail. Yuki stretched and purred in a way that sounded like singing. Through her one blue and one gold eye she surveyed the room, Queen of the Kingdom.
    ‘Hello,’ said Tong, leaning in to scratch under her chin. Yuki seemed to say ‘hello’ back.
    Mio ran her hands along Yuki’s rump, taking comfort from the soft-as-silk coat, then she reached for the keyboard and typed in ‘Pawn Shops’, saying, ‘We’re wasting time. Let’s get on with this.’
    After a thorough search on the computer, and now armed with a list of names and directions, the kids said goodbye to Yuki and left Mio’s apartment.
    As they strapped on helmets and settled on their bikes Clem said, ‘I can’t believe the number of dog tags on eBay.’
    ‘Many fake,’ said Tong.
    ‘Yes, I know, but many aren’t. Did you see those World War Two ones? The ones from Russia? They belonged to someone. Their family should have them. It’s such a shame.’
    ‘Big shame,’ agreed Tong.
    Clem wasn’t sure if he was talking about Mr Lark’s dog tags or the greater shame of people selling such an important part of other people’s lives.
    The Freewheelers detoured via the Jacobs’ house, collecting an eager Bella who settled in Clem’s basket, her home away from home.
    The first pawn shop was called Ted’s Pawn Shop. A neon sign with three gold spheres suspended on a bar hung from the awning while a smaller sign in the window flashed ‘Cash Loans. Cash Loans. Cash Loans’. Inside on one wall were two rows of guitars. Lines of shelves were stacked with toolboxes, power tools, TVs, video games and electronic goods, cabinets held tray after tray of jewellery, and rusty sets of golf clubs were leaning up against a back wall. The shop was dingy, its walls and floors layered with years of smoke and grime.
    Mio tried not to cough.
    In contrast to the shop’s appearance, the woman behind the counter was a walking signboard of designer labels. From her groomed hair to her manicured nails, snug jeans and body-hugging top she wasn’t what Mio was expecting.
    And when the woman asked, ‘May I help you?’ Mio had to hold back her shock. She chided herself for jumping to conclusions about people who worked in pawn shops.
    ‘We’re looking for some dog tags,’ began Darcy.
    ‘Would have come in in the last day or so,’ added Bryce.
    ‘With an inscription.’
    ‘William Lark.’
    The woman held up her hand, saying, ‘We haven’t got them. Haven’t had any dog tags for a long time.’
    The Freewheelers thanked the woman and moved on to the next pawn shop, CashFast.
    ‘Got any dog tags?’ asked Bryce, leading the way to the counter.
    ‘Sure,’ said the salesman, pulling open the door of a cabinet. ‘Genuine 1952 US Marine Corps dog tags from the Korean war,’ he said, holding up a battered and worn set of tags.
    ‘Any dog tags come in, in the last couple of days?’ asked Darcy.
    ‘With the surname Lark,’ said Mio.
    ‘Nope.’ At the crestfallen look on Mio’s face the man offered, ‘But I have got badges, pins, military coins. You name it, I’ve got it.’
    The man had an eagerness to sell war memories from someone’s life that made Mio shudder. He dropped his voice saying, ‘What about something else, missy. Phone