Every Second Counts

Chapter Twenty Six

PAGES OF PHOTOS scatter across my dining room floor. I pick up a handful and flick through them. There's a different person in each photo—young, middle aged or old going about their business oblivious to the cameraman. They have been stalked by Reuben Houston and I hope there is a clue as to 'why' somewhere amongst the screeds of printouts I am now starting to collate. My cell phone shots have not come out as clear as I'd hoped and when I elect the help of a magnifying glass I make an unusual discovery. One of the photos is of Maggie Bancroft. I am sure it is her looking considerably younger. I have no idea who the other people in the collage are, but I reckon if I can identify at least one other person and get info on them, I may have some idea why he has their photos in his possession.

I scan the printouts that came from what I first thought was a cashbook. Not a cashbook. More like a weird diary of transactions that are mainly £10, £20, £30 with hand written notes. Every entry has a name and in the next column a piddly some of money and then a whole lot of letters and numbers.

I run down the column of names: F. Dempsey (M), R. Hampden (F), M. Birdie (K), T. Hall (F), Ted Member (F) and several other names each with extended codes.

I focus on one entry: J. Calder (F) £30. 1/4 Remeurast. √

I don't understand any of it and I go to bed very disappointed.

It is sometime during one of my nightmares when I awake and something clicks. I feel stupid that I hadn't 'clicked' when I first saw Houston's 'cashbook.' The £10 etc must be abbreviations...like the amounts are missing three 0's. With that in mind I bolt out of bed and start scanning the printouts again.

I figure J. Calder (F) £30. 1/4. Remeurast. √ could in fact be J. Calder (the client) F could mean (the target is Female) (paid) £30,000. (for a job which was completed) on 1st April. (And a town called) Remeurast √. The tick means it's done!

Amid total jubilation, I feel sick. If I have decoded this accurately there is only one thing a man could do to earn £30,000, and that is to whack someone. I shudder that I have used that term. Many months ago I would have said silenced someone. I can feel The Hulk and The Fixer starting to influence me on how I see life and just for a moment I see the carefree Athena Morisot drifting away before my very eyes. Replaced by a hardnosed, murderer with loose morals!

I am not sure what M. Birdies code of K would mean so I do not include it in the list of people I gather to investigate. When I google J. Calder, nothing comes up. I try deaths 1st April, nothing. I cannot even find evidence of a town or suburb called Remeurast. I'm so disappointed so I study Reubens printouts again. Maybe Remeurast is not a suburb or town, maybe it's a street, somewhere.

I google Remeurast Street and ping... there is a Remeurast Street in a suburb nearby Athenas apartment. I scroll down and read of a car crash in Remeurast Street, vandalism and several properties for sale.

I next google death in Remeurast Street and an article pops up which freezes the blood in my veins.

'Woman dies as house burns to the ground. Amelia Calder was found dead from smoke inhalation when the fire was put out at 32 Remeurast Street. There are no suspicious circumstances.'

The room chills. I have stumbled upon evidence of a crime. Maybe evidence of many crimes!

I don't give it a moment's thought of what I should I do. I pick up my cell and dial the police. I'm feeling fucking fantastic. Even if all the other names and coded whatever's turn out to be nothing criminal I know the woman who died at 32 Remeurast Street two years ago was at the instructions of J. Calder which is either a husband or relative and she will finally have closure. The Man From Mississippi has as good as confessed that either he or J. Calder is responsible for her murder.