ONE HUNDRED THIRTY-NINE
The Flight of Chloe McMurderess cont.
The sign on the shop window read ‘We Buy Gold For Cash’. I was going to test that claim but entry was not that easy.
I had to ring the doorbell and wait to be scrutinised by a CCTV camera over the door. Once whomever was inside had determined that I was not a masked bank robber armed with sawn-off shotgun, there was a buzz, and the heavy door could be pushed open.
I was greeted by an attractive middle-aged woman. She was wearing a pale-blue tailored suit with a cream blouse. She looked classy. Not what I expected in a dingy back street pawn shop (the street was dingy, not the shop) she looked too stylish for that.
‘Come in, dear. Welcome, my names Anne. What can I do for you today?’ she said with a welcoming smile. Told her
