The Titan Code

12. More

THE whole day at work I kept stewing over Alex's words. I suppose I do have the chance to repair my family ties. All this time I've assumed that I needed to distance myself from them because it would be too complicated.

The prospect of travelling somewhere dangerous, or being in the wrong place and never coming home always lead me to believe it'd be better for my family if I were estranged, as if my parents would be less upset if I vanished.

Then when I landed in that minefield in Cambodia I realised that's not what I want.

Alex might have his family split up by sickness and distance but I don't have to.

*

I finally decide to do research tonight so I pick up a takeaway to rid myself of the effort of cooking.

"Let's see," I murmur aloud as I begin typing 'Hetfield Council'.

Immediately I'm taken to the Town Council website and I look at the list of councillors for the area. A dozen photographs of men and women of varying degrees of dullness and awkward smiling look out at me until I reach the one I want.

Mayor Eric Smith.

He's a striking man, I'll admit, with a tanned skin tone and vivid green eyes. He must be about fifty but I could see him being attractive thirty years ago, as his clean shaven face showed the years hadn't ruined his jawline.

Skimming over I can see mention of his wife, the endangered Mrs. Elaine Smith, a grown-up son and a passion for the community. He supports offenders' rehabilitation programmes as well as homeless charities and at-risk youth groups.

He seems a pretty decent guy and I'm not sure why a pair of brutish thugs would want to kidnap and dismember his wife.

Okay, obviously I don't know all the facts yet, but the flyer in the car was about a meeting, so I check on the news updates section.

"Yes!" I cheer as the next order of business is a public meeting regarding the proposed renovation of the old factory complex in Hetfield.

It's on Thursday next week.

My heart sinks a little. No way am I able to get into Manchester then out to Hetfield for after work. I've not got enough time to put a holiday in, either, so I can use the day to get there and attend.

I download the last few Council meeting minutes to my phone to check over later before I look into the development company.

The meeting agenda says the company is James Larson Developments. I wonder if Alex knows anything about this company? Maybe he's worked with them before. I must remember to ask.

A few more links and websites show me that they aren't a big company and that they've only done a few buildings but they've been marred by complaints, injuries and links to an increase in crime during their tenure.

Maybe the thugs who want to hurt Mrs. Smith work for them? Perhaps they've been sent to stop Mayor Smith opposing the development and have been authorised to take drastic measures under the radar?

The next thing I come across are local news articles about police raids on the old factory where the proposed development is centred. There's reports of drug gangs, squatters, illegal car racing, violent activities.

My head is swirling with dozens of concepts and vague theories. Does Smith want the development to clean up the area? Or is he opposed because of the rumours of crime?

I don't know what to make of it and right now I'm getting too tired to think. I'll tell Alex this and see if he can connect the dots.

*