I was correct about the detective. He seems to be making swift progress and I am rather impressed at how he applies himself. He seems to pick apart a case like a child playing with its food and yet, once dissected, he analyses every detail until nothing new can be discovered.
This may be a cause for concern but I cannot hide that part of me finds this chase exciting. Thrilling. Exhilarating. My plan has not changed and I am still determined to execute my plan that sees the rich and exclusive members of society brought to justice! I think for now however, as I wait for the jewel to become less hot and problematic, that it best I give the detective a present. That I feed him my attention and perhaps even toy with him.
It would seem a childish thing to do and could potentially eradicate my hopes of secrecy and remaining unidentified. As battered and bruised as I may be from all that I have experienced, my mind remains functioning to a high standard. So, it is due to this I began to contemplate an answer to a most intriguing question: what if I could convince William Percy Morgan to work with me?
What would be in it for me if I was able to succeed in this?
Having the mind of such a brilliant man would exceed the potential of what I intend to do. I would be able to constantly stay one step ahead of the police and my message would carry a heavier heart.
Now I just need to convince the other two. I need to brief them on my intentions. Whether or not they agree is of little importance to me but they must be made aware.
All the evidence was there to suggest it was a cheap hotel: the yellow windows that had decayed over time, the small yet noticeable cracks that grew deep within the support beams that separated the bases of orange tinted bricks. It stood tall but not proud and the only door that permitted entrance into the building was hanging on a singular rusted hinge. It wasn’t the most glamourous of establishments and nor did it radiate any sense of comfort or welcome.
I waited outside for some time; hoping to capture signs of Jake but to no avail. I circled the area a few times to prevent my legs from seizing up and all this did was make time pass at a slightly slower rate.
I began to process the stages of the case in my mind and piece any clues together that may have provided me with explanations I had missed. What this made me realise however was that the case was at a standstill. Nothing more could be done until I found the twin brother.
I waited for even longer. The sun had descended and the moon had made its presence known. There was a gentle chill about the air that emitted a melancholy sense of suspense. My eyelids grew heavy.
It was at that moment the door opened slightly and what little light was inside came pouring out onto the sidewalk. Out came a man who donned a long and grey coat with a peculiar hat that covered his eyes.
“I’ll see you in two weeks mister Junior! Have a pleasant trip” a voice called out from within. The mysterious figure said nothing and offered little polite gestures apart from a flick of his hand.
He then began to walk away from both me and the hotel.
This was my man but I was curious as to what his next moves were. As long he remained in my line of sight, he was within my grasp. So, I decided to follow him.
I was suddenly filled with a tremendous amount of dread that snook inside my body and penetrated my heart. My anxiety rose at a rate I cared not to give any attention but I was desperate not to lose sight of him. The key to unlock the door which blocked the evaluation of the intricate puzzle that interlocked with the progress of the case was right in front of me.
He did not walk very fast so tailing him was not a very difficult job. He did not give off any signs of being paranoid: looking behind him frequently or stopping to listen for footsteps.
Ten minutes went by but it felt more like hours. He soon stopped at a church yard which remained empty in the late night; the ominous lighting was reflected gently in the black windows that decorated the church entrance. Just beyond the steel-picked fence that surrounded the perimeter were a couple of old benches that were slanted gently as the legs sunk deep into the ground. He entered the church and left a small piece of paper under the bench on the right.
Who could the note be for? Surely, he was aware by now that his brother was in custody. I began to entertain the possibility that there was a third character involved. Someone none of us had anticipated.
I made the tough decision to let Jake move on; I knew which hotel he was going to next anyway. I entered the church yard myself and retrieved the note that was left there under the bench.
All it was…was a receipt. It possessed a few numbers of what food he had ordered but that was it. It made little sense but I knew it was meant for a third person. I decided that the following day I should present the receipt to the twin and see if it sparked any new aspects to aid in the investigation.
I had found that since the case had come to the forefront of my mind, my prefrontal cortex had almost burned out. It was a strenuous series of events that proved to be an onerous hurdle to jump over. I deeply desired a vacation soon after this riddle was solved. Somewhere that was dipped in solitude and blanketed with seclusion and a persistent sense of peace. The countryside was an obvious choice but I was yet to decided exactly where. Perhaps the fields of Basingstoke near the rural village of Overton, or the extensively beautiful landscapes that surrounded the city of Durham. My choices were limitless but I was eager to escape to peace.
The following day soon arrived and I presented the bill to the brother who still remained in custody.
He fidgeted at the edge of his seat in a hasty representation of raging anxiety. He reached into his pocket and handed me another bill that seemed to be far older and in much worse condition. He then handed me a second that was dated at roughly the same time. After a brief examination of the two, I smiled.
“What is it sir?” Blake asked as he poured over the bills in a desperate attempt to match my level of observation.
“Well, it’s not very hard to decrypt. Here, let me show you.”
I placed both bills next to each other tried my best to rid them of creases.
“We already know that Jake Jillian Junior only stays at the Crow and the Pig. CP. When staying at either hotel Jake will order a specific item of food and drink off of the menu on a particular day. Each item on the menu is assigned a number but what do you notice about all of them? None of the orders he has placed exceeds the number 26. Such a specific and constant coincidence, is it not? What else only has 26 items within it? The alphabet. Saying this is the correct train of thought, what if the numbers of what he orders corresponds with a letter of the alphabet? Take the latest food order on the first bill which is a 2. That translates to the letter B. The second bill has an order of beverage which possesses the number 18 which would be the letter R. We have the initials B and R. What a coincidence that there is a street not far from here called Brickfield Road. If I am not mistaken, these monthly receipts are a code that tells the third man of a location to meet. The initials CP would be the initials of the third man. Correct?”
I looked at the twin sat across from me and he had now ceased all his movements and sat upright with his jaw almost brushing the floor.
“How on earth…” he said in astonishment.
“Sit in wonder as long as you want. It bothers me not. Now tell me, who is this third man with the initials of CP?”