This was a story read 30 years back from a book of ghost stories that I had chanced upon in a book fair. Within a year of buying it, someone friendly took it  never to return it back and therefore I just have the bare skeleton in my mind.

Ajax was a petty thief who befriended anyone before robbing them. Sometimes it took him a day, a week or a month to gain the trust before he could repay it with his usual betrayal.

But most of the time or you could say of the umpteen times he had played the act which now was perfected to an art,  rarely barring a solitary person or two had come to know it was him and they had been of good personage not to pursue the matter further.

Of late, he had been following an old women who used to go about in the town with a pouch in her hand. It contained something precious for sure, the way she held it. She was new to him as it was quite a few days that she was seen walking around in this place. Her appearance was shabby, she had no shelter and some persons kind used to help her with food. She looked here and there afraid of something or someone as she walked. Rarely she looked anyone in the eye. It was a poor pale picture that she painted of herself.

The pouch had evinced interest in Ajax, who followed her with the intention of robbing her of it, but she never let anyone come close to her. Following her also was an ordeal because she walked long lengths unmindful of passing hours. Rarely he had seen her sit somewhere. The pouch no doubt contained some treasure, maybe coins or sovereigns as one or two times he had heard them jingle as she walked away.

Now Ajax lived in an old house overlooking the cemetry where he used to cook and smoke, make merry about his loneliness before going to sleep. One day as he was roaming around the street looking for another prey, he heard at the lighthouse tavern that that old lady had died in the morning and a few gentlemen were going around gathering money for conducting her last rites.

He also joined the Samaritans and by evening she was buried in the cemetry along with the pouch in her hands. Ajax had some plan come to his mind during the burial and made sure he stayed back till everyone left.

When it was dusk and he was sure that no one would be around, he dug up the coffin and stole the purse from the dead woman. He thought that he had added one more to his list where the owner  never would know as to who did the robbery.

Hurrying home, he sat in his small shack and opened the pouch. There was, as he had thought, a few coins of silver which would fetch a good price. There was an old wardrobe where he hid it before making his dinner. After  a small shot of ale that he had bought from the lighthouse tavern, he retired to sleep. As an afterthought, he took the purse from the wardrobe, and kept it close to him inside the blanket that he had pulled over.

Sometime during the night, he woke up to some sound and in that dim light of a waxing moon, he saw a frail frame of a person walking about in his hut looking everywhere for something lost of great value. It was to his confusion, the same old woman. She was murmering something as was her wont.  There she now opened the wardrobe door, looking for her purse. Inspite of the cold winter, a layer of sweat had long formed on Ajax’s face. He could barely move, frozen as he was with fright. This was the first time someone had come looking for the stolen goods and that too from the kingdom of the dead.

The murmering woman left the wardrobe, wandered about and then turned around and came close to the bed inspecting it. Ajax had sat  up, the pouch held close to his chest as once she did. He wanted to flee the scene, but his legs heavy as iron barely could make a move. The lady came closer and now their eyes met. He had never seen such eyes as they bored into  his. His eyes laid bare  his evil actions which is when her gaze lowered to his hands that held her purse. Somewhere a lightning struck and in that light, Ajax saw her frightening features. “Oh! It is here, you good for nothing”, she said in a booming voice that fell on deaf years as Ajax had repaid for his act with his frozen life…