What the hell was wrong with him?

Henry closed the car door behind him as he took in where he stood. He was outside his front door, although he shouldn’t have been surprised they knew where he lived. Only one thing was on Henry's mind and that was his bed. Opening the door to his flat, he had managed to take his jacket off and one shoe before he fell asleep on the couch, exhausted.

- Chapter 15 -

Duty calls

“Oh bloody hell, where have you gone?” Meyer said, as he paced down the hall.

His voice echoed through the numerous corridors and rooms, but there was no reply. Outside, the car horn sounded once again, a not so subtle reminder for him to hurry up.

“Ruth, where on earth are you? I've got to go.”

“What is it my lovely?” Ruth said, entering the kitchen from the garden, seemingly oblivious to his shouting.

“Ruth, where were you?”

“In the greenhouse, caterpillars are at the lettuce again. You can squish 'em all day long, but you'll never get all the little blighters.”

“Listen to me, I've got to go and do an interview for Helena. You need to find Alice, see if she has heard what's going on,” Meyer said.

“Knows what's going on about what?” Ruth said, one eyebrow cocked.

“Find out if she knows anything about what is going on with the Wade-Helena alliance and if any information has been released about Mark.”

“Oh, okay…”

“I can’t believe I walked straight past the murder scene, if I had just read their minds, I could have-”

“You are not to overuse your powers, you know what will happen if you do and I’m not ready to lose you yet you old beggar.”

“I love you too Ruth, but think, if I had read one of the policeman’s minds and gone to the crime scene… I would have found the note and we would have a much better hold on what is going on,” Meyer said.

“But you didn’t and what’s done is done. Right then, I’ll get some groceries and I'll go see what’s happening with Alice, I thought you had somewhere to be? You don’t want to be late.”

Ruth turned on her heel and headed back into the garden, apparently she wasn't quite finished with the caterpillars. Meyer grabbed his trench coat from the stand by the door and approached the black Mercedes waiting outside. A slightly chubby man, although Meyer couldn't exactly judge him for his size, with deep red cheeks, got out of the passenger seat and opened the back door for him. Meyer sat, receiving a thin manila folder from the portly gentleman, before he attempted a half run back to the passenger seat.

As the car pulled away, Meyer turned his attention to the folder. The first piece of paper inside contained a photograph, taken in mug-shot style, of a gaunt man of Spanish decent. 'Pablo Martese' was printed to the side, next to one of those God awful QR code things which Meyer had no time for. The rest of paper gave a brief outline of his life to date and a list of convictions. Meyer thought how funny it was, how one’s entire existence could be summed up on a sheet of A4. The file, although containing lots of pertinent information on Mr. Martese, would not outline why Meyer was called in, he knew the drill. Helena's people selected targets and he was supposed to do as told and not ask questions. The interviews lately had changed his role from interrogator to mere interpreter: he would be given the questions and expected to persuade the interviewee into providing the answers, not deviating or attempting to find out any further information himself. In essence, a simple enough arrangement, but Meyer did not like to be used simply as a tool.

The car pulled onto Whitechapel and slowed, before the gate of the Old Admiralty Building opened, allowing them to continue into the courtyard. The man from the front seat was out and ready to open Meyer's door before the car stopped moving. Meyer walked up the steps and passed through a set of large doors which, like the gate, opened automatically as he approached. The Old Admiralty building was a juxtaposition of old and new, from the outside, a homage to the grandeur of St. Paul's while within, modern finishes were to be found everywhere.