I sighed and lifted my hands up to the one-way mirror in front of my chair.
‘Are these really necessary?’ I asked, rattling the chains.
No response. I dropped them back onto the table with a clink.
The door burst open and two black-suited men in dark glasses strode into the room, each step perfectly in sync with one another. I raised an eyebrow.
‘Do you two practice that in your spare time?’
They ignored me. The taller one leant against the mirror, while the other one pulled up the chair on the other side of my table. He laid out a thick file, steepled his fingers and finally looked up at me.
‘Do you know why you’re here?’ he growled.
‘I’ve been yelling “why am I here?” at that mirror for the last four hours,’ I frowned. ‘What do you think?’
‘You’re here because we heard a… a rumour.’
The man at the window cracked his neck.
‘What rumour?’ I asked, getting nervous.
‘A rumour that you know the best, most affordable mechanic around Ringwood,’ the man across from me whispered.
‘What?’
The tall man flew across the room, slamming his fist on the table. ‘Tell us!’
‘What are you talking about?!’ I cried out, pulling myself as far back as I could from the lunatics while I was still chained up.
‘Our records show you recently had a log book servicing from a Ringwood mechanic,’ the shorter one whispered. ‘We want a name.’
‘I–I don’t rememb–’
‘You’re lying!’ the tall one shouted, looking like he was about to throw himself across the table. His partner held him back with a patient hand.
‘You’re only making this worse,’ he shook his head at me. With a sigh, he got to his feet, sweeping up the file. ‘Perhaps a few more hours in here will jog your memory.’
And just like that they were gone, leaving me alone with my reflection and a flickering bulb.
‘They changed my tyres too!’ I called after them, huffily.