Geoff Portman had a passion for oriental antiques. At least twice a year he would fly to Hong Kong hunting for pieces to add to his growing collection. He’d been told of a little shop in downtown Kowloon, but in truth he was disappointed. As he took one last look around he noticed it. Covered in sackcloth, gathering dust in a box at the back of the shop – the glinting tip of a handle lured him in.
‘How much for the sword’ he asked the shopkeeper.
‘Not for sale. Cursed!’
Geoff had heard all this before. ‘Two thousand dollars?’ he said.
‘Not for sale. Cursed. You no listen to me. Cursed! Need to stay with me. Only me’
‘Five thousand dollars?’
The shopkeeper signed before saying ‘You have it for Ten thousand dollar!’
Back in his hotel room Geoff went to sleep satisfied with his purchase – he would have paid at least double. The next morning they found Geoff still in bed. One half of him on the left; the other on the right. The police were baffled. No murder weapon and CCTV showed no-one other than Geoff leaving or entering his room since last night.
In downtown Kowloon the sword settled back into its box – the glint of the handle sure to catch someone’s eye soon.