Enigma Variations by Bradley W. Wright

Author:Bradley W. Wright [Wright, Bradley W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery/Suspense; Mystery; San Francisco; London; Supernatural; Art; Thief; Music; Hacking; International; Private Investigator; Secret; Enigma; Crypt
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2020-08-19T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Beer and Necromancy

July 2: London

Bathmore was nowhere to be seen when I burst out the door. I started back, retracing the route I had taken while following him. The houseboats were still out on the canal. I walked fast but did not see him ahead of me. He could have taken a different route or maybe he wasn’t headed home. If I didn’t find him I would have to head back to my rental and keep watch, hoping he would show up. My intuition told me he still had the notes. He had been keeping them at the space he rented for giving music lessons and working on breaking the enigma there. By bad luck I had followed him there a day too late. He had cleared out, knowing he would be evicted the next day and any belongings left in the room either discarded or held until he paid his back rent. I should have gone there the night before. Hopefully, he would take the notes home. I would have to break into his apartment again the next time he went out. He had to be trying to solve the enigma in order to get the reward from Jutting. He must have learned about it while working for the tycoon. Maybe he had an extra motivation. Maybe he believed he had been treated unfairly by Jutting and wanted to be the one to find the solution so he could get some kind of revenge in addition to the reward. It was speculation but it fit what I had seen and the clues I had gathered. He might be getting desperate though. He was behind on all his bills, he had been evicted from the space he presumably used to pursue his only money making vocation. He must be in danger of losing his apartment as well. I hoped he wasn’t desperate enough to contact Jutting and try to sell the notes. It would be infinitely more difficult to steal them from a billionaire surrounded by bodyguards and private security. For a member of the highest class of the global elite, his house had looked modest from the outside. I had no doubt it was not modest on the inside. He almost certainly had the best security money could buy. It wouldn’t be like breaking into Carlu Ortoli’s house. Carlu Ortoli was merely wealthy. Jutting was on a different plane of existence.

I reached the Bethnal Green station still without having caught sight of Bathmore, walked up and down the platform rapidly, scanning the crowd, looking for that burgundy backpack. No luck. I had lost him. My only option was to return to my temporary home and wait. I rode the trains back to Hammersmith, thinking. I still wanted to pursue a meeting with Jutting if possible. If Bathmore turned over the notes as I feared he might I would need to know as much as possible about Jutting’s residence and business. When I emerged from Hammersmith station I paused out of the flow of human traffic and called the number Gabrielle’s father had given me for Ortoli.

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