bedroom door was only yards away so Jack unlocked it and escaped back into the living room. He stopped in his tracks as the television switched itself on. A game show was on and the host was talking to a winner.
'Well done. You’ve won the game. What would you like as a prize?'
'What I would really like is….'
'Yes?'
'My wallet….I want my wallet.'
The evil face of Harry popped up again. 'You have my wallet, give me my wallet.'
Jack grabbed the wallet and ran into the kitchen. Shaking with fear he quickly filled a bucket with paper and threw the wallet in. Then he set the bucket on fire and watched it burn. He ran out of the house to thrown the ashes in the skip. He got halfway down the alley then stopped to get his breath back. He placed his hand over his heart and felt a lump. He reached into his pocket. Oh no, it was the wallet! How was this possible? He'd only just burnt it. The next thing he saw was a brick crashing down on his head and everything went black.
The next day two muggers were counting the money they had stolen whilst reading the news about the murder of Jack Waite in the local alley. They were so busy counting that they didn't notice something strange. An old brown battered wallet on the table.
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