The Wabbit and Lapinette followed the Voice. "Hey Wabbit, can I play you a request?" A sinister figure sat by the record decks but he didn't turn. The Wabbit shot a warning glance at Lapinette and adopted a cheerful voice. "Play Misty for me." The figure snorted. "Which version?" "Errol Garner of course," smiled the Wabbit. The figure barely moved. Melodic piano chords filled the store but his voice rose above them. "Of all the stores, in all the towns in all the world, you hop into mine." The Wabbit swayed quietly in time to the music but his eyes were on the figure as it stiffened. "I was there you know," it growled. "I was there at that famous jazz session with the masters." "Must have been a great evening," said the Wabbit lightly - and the figure half turned. "It was great because of me!" There was a vindictiveness in the figure's voice that chilled Lapinette to the bone. She clutched an old disc behind her for the simple reason that she couldn't let go - or maybe it wouldn't let go of her. Under her paw she could feel the centre was scratched and the ridges made a strange sign. "They stole something from me," said the figure. "They took what was rightfully mine." "Oh that's in the past," said the Wabbit, "they've gone, they all passed away." Now the figure tilted his stetson back and a ghastly laugh bounced from the wall. "They died to regret it!" Lapinette gripped the disc fiercely and the disc gripped her. "I'm late for rehearsals," she mouthed. "We'll be off then," said the Wabbit. But as they made for the door, locks turned and bolts slid ...
