Sunday, 27 February 2011

The Case of Mrs. Weldon - Day 3

I have spent the last two days walking around and have come to a conclusion. I am not being followed by an assassin. If I was, I would definitely be dead by now. I am still being followed by an extremely annoying police sergeant who by his own mistakes keeps managing to find me after I lose him.

I am still none the wiser as to exactly who is following me though. There are not that many possibilities left as to who it could be given the competency of their skills. The idea that I might not even be being followed has now been dismissed as only someone in a deep state of paranoia could possibly believe that they are being followed when they are in fact...not being, well excluding Fred Barlow.

On the plus side I have arranged to meet with Mrs. Weldon to ask her how much she is willing to pay me to lie to her husband about her adulterous activities. Generally this kind of activity is quite easy to blackmail people over and to get a nice bonus to go on top of my two week salary and expenses. However considering her veracious appetite when it came to her extra-curricula hobbies, I wasn't so sure that it would be as easy as it had been in the past. Hopefully the pay out will be worth it.

I got a call from Mr. Weldon as well wanting to know how the investigation was going. I do hate it when people require updates on how I'm spending their money. I get the feeling though that if I don't give him some form of information that he will go to the police and then Fred will just have to get involved...he seems to have this need to always interfere.

I also got a weird letter and phone call. If it wasn't for needing a phone to actually get work then I would take the line out – maybe I need to get an answering machine... When I answered the phone for the eighteenth time in the day there was a gravelly voice on the other end of the line telling me that I should stay in doors for the next for days if I knew what was good for me.

It wasn't long after this that a letter was pushed under my door which told me that if I knew what was good for me then I should stop what I am doing otherwise there would be consequences. I wonder what happened to the days of being able to earn a living by semi-honest means without receiving daily warnings and death threats. I can't remember my Dad ever receiving this many in his whole career.

It's a good job I'm not easily intimidated...

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