Page 57 of The Impossible Fortune (Thursday Murder Club Mysteries #5)

Joyce

Well done, Elizabeth, don’t you think?

We need four things to get to the Bitcoin.

We need Bill Benson’s cooperation, and we have that thanks to Ron.

We need a client to go down there with us. And we have Connie Johnson, thanks to Ibrahim.

We need Holly’s code, and now Elizabeth has cracked that.

So only one thing is missing: Nick Silver’s code.

And only one person hasn’t contributed.

And that’s me.

That final six-digit code could be the secret to everything. But I don’t think I can be much use.

Ibrahim came over yesterday with his pen and pad and was going through all sorts of combinations. He tried to let me join in, but all I really did was make tea. You have to play to your strengths.

I feel a bit of a spare wheel all round at the moment.

Why were Kendrick and Tia at Ibrahim’s flat this morning?

No one will tell me anything. Something is going on, and I shall wait to be told what it is.

As far as I’m concerned, we’re supposed to be concentrating on finding Holly’s killer and finding the last code, but perhaps I’m missing something? I often do.

Let me think about Nick’s code.

Ibrahim was explaining the Enigma Code to me. The code they used during the war. ‘Unbreakable, they thought,’ he said, but apparently someone broke it. I asked who, but you can always tell when Ibrahim has reached the end of his facts, because he changes the subject.

He was writing down names and numbers and all sorts. Birthdays, that’s the usual one, isn’t it?

When they ask for numbers, I just use the same code for everything. Because otherwise how do you remember? And I have my code written down in my wallet and in my diary. It makes everything so much easier. It’s 6149.

With words it’s more difficult. I wish you could always have the same password for everything, but sometimes they don’t let you.

I have used GerryMeadow for so many years, but sometimes you need numbers too, so I use GerryMeadow42, and sometimes you need special characters, and I use GerryMeadow42!

When I had to use that one the other day, I got locked out, because I forgot that the exclamation mark was part of the password.

I just thought I had been in a jolly mood when I wrote it down.

I had an email the other day that said that the password for my Gardeners’ World subscription had been ‘involved in a data breach’ and I should change it immediately.

I don’t know why anyone would try to hack into my Gardeners’ World Magazine account – all I do is buy seeds and occasionally add a comment under one of Monty Don’s articles – but I tried to do as I was told.

I put in GerryMeadow and it told me ‘Password not recognized’, so I asked to change my password, and tried to change it to GerryMeadow and it said, ‘Your new password cannot be the same as your previous password’, which didn’t make any sense at all, and so I have simply had to cancel my subscription.

Ibrahim sent Paul all sorts of questions about Holly and Nick, and wrote down the answers in a database.

In the end he came up with a list of twenty possible codes that he thought might open the safe.

‘I can say with some confidence it is one of these numbers,’ he said.

And, I’ll give Ibrahim this, he did say it with some confidence.

In the end Elizabeth got the better of him, and you could see he was disappointed. Imagine how furious he would be if I cracked Nick Silver’s code. It would be like Venezuela all over again.

How clever though. The phone number was the code. Jamie Usher was a fraudster, but he had absolutely no connection to Holly other than six random digits.

If I’d known when we met him that he was a fraudster, I would have asked him why someone was trying to hack into my Gardeners’ World account. Or maybe ask him to look up my password for me.

It was nice to see Donna yesterday. She was coy about where she was heading next, and I do understand why.

If she was dropping in on us, she was heading north.

And a long enough journey for Donna to say yes to cake, but a short enough journey for her to skip using the loo before she left.

So you’d guess London, wouldn’t you? And I can think of only one person she might want to question in London, and that’s Paul.

Of course somebody should question him, I’m not a fool.

I’ve investigated enough murders now to know who’s a suspect and who’s not a suspect.

But if he’s involved, why were Nick’s texts sent to him?

And why did he show them to us? Also, I trust Joanna’s judgement.

I may not like the paint colour in her new hallway (too dark – a hallway should be welcoming) and she is wrong about sushi, but she has her father’s head on her shoulders, and if she doesn’t suspect Paul, neither do I.

I note as well that Donna is not investigating this case, and so someone else must have asked her to speak to Paul. My guess is Elizabeth. It’s not even a guess, I know it will have been Elizabeth.

This whole case is buzzing around me, and lots of other things seem to be too. I feel a bit useless. Perhaps the adrenaline from the wedding has finally left me?

Alan is wagging his tail at me, but heaven knows why.

I haven’t contributed a single thing to the case.

Ibrahim has a house full of guests and no one is telling me why.

My best friend doesn’t trust me enough to tell me she’s questioning my son-in-law.

My brownies were too heavy. I forgot to tell Joanna I love her.

What use am I? I’m not going to discover Nick Silver’s code. Some women make history, and some women make tea. I will never be Elizabeth.

I might go online and order a nice tea set for Jasper. That is something useful and practical I can actually do.

Life isn’t all about solving murders, fun though it is. Sometimes you have to help people before they’re dead.

I will never be Elizabeth. But, then, she will never be me. Perhaps I have my own job to do.

Let Alan wag his tail, and let Ibrahim crack the code instead.