” No, sorry Lydia, but thanks for trying.”I put the phone down and placed my head in my hands.My phone pinged with a text. “Rich, you know the rules, move on to the next one if you can’t complete a task” The text was from Martin.I nodded in agreement and reached into my desk drawer. My wallet lay there. Inside my wallet, folded into four, was the listI reviewed all 9 tasks on the list again.My phone pinged again. “ffs Rich, you’ve only got 4 days left!!”I sarcastically smirked, shrugged my shoulders and shook my head.…Let me start from the beginning. Every first Friday of the month, myself, Martin, and an ex house mate of mine, Carl, get together for a friendly game of poker. There can usually be up to seven of us at the start of a game, but it’s always the three of us that are left at the end of the game.At every poker game we talk too much. If you ask me who actually won the game each month, I wouldn’t have a clue. I do know, however, that no matter much money I take to the poker. Everything he saw conveyed an impression consistent with what he'd been told. It was the bedroom of an intelligent, reasonably prosperous young woman who liked photography. Sam marveled at the reams of photographs stored in boxes on the closet floor. He found two cameras in the closet, both with partially exposed rolls of film. He rewound each, extracted the rolls of 35 mm film, and pocketed them. He reminded himself to ask later about any exposed film in the camera that had been found at the murder scene.Returning to the front living room, he greeted Doug and Susan. "There's some marks on the back door," Doug said, "'like it could have been forced."Sam checked the door and concurred in Doug's assessment. He asked whether the evidence of forced entry might have been there earlier. Doug had no idea. There was no other sign, outside or within the house, of forced entry, and Doug and Susan failed to identify anything as missing.The dining room, a relatively large middle room between the.
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