Page 25 of Breaking the Code

Looking for computer investigator to find information on people for an assassin.

How do you broach the subject with someone once you hire them?

I need the names o' all these people so I can murder them.

That will go over well, especially in the press when constables arrest me. I can see the headlines now.

Lord o’ the Realm arrested for murder.

Yet another thing that cannae happen. I already have them on their heels because o’ my appearance. Big, bearded, and a partially shaved head with skull tattoos weren’t something the peerage was used to.

Anyway, having someone help me track these fuckstains down, well, that’s a level o’ trust I’ve only ever had with Simon. Paying for help disnae ensure trust or loyalty. Both are a must in the line o' work I’ve taken on.

Someone is helping.

I dinnae know who, though. But someone sent me information on Maeve last year, right after I murdered Lionel and Rupert. The information I got led me to the States. Back to this place.

Documents I’d found in the warehouse before I torched it told a very different story than the one Simon and I believed all those years ago. The information from the warehouse, and then the information about Maeve, gave me the true story.

The mansion didnae belong to that bastard Graeme Buchanan. Nae. It was the headquarters o’ the Order o’ Death. All those years ago, I assumed the house I killed Graeme in was his and that he was running the Order out o' it. Now, I know better.

Thanks to whoever sent me that paperwork last year.

With the new information in hand, I moved to America to be closer to the Order’s headquarters. I would’ve thought being back here would be strange, but it isnae. I killed Graeme Buchanan years ago inside the big house. I wish I’d known then what I do now because iffn I had, I would’ve killed as many men as I could the night I offed Buchanan.

This time I know what’s what. This time I have a plan. Now, I want the head o' the snake and a then I will go after all the rest o' them. Every last one o’ them will pay with their lives.

I stand in the treeline that surrounds the property watching the house, yet again. I’ve watched this house for hours and days and weeks. The only people I’ve been able to put names to are a man named Owen Black, and another named Samuel Nicholson. Samuel is the man who met with Lionel the night I killed him.

I’ve nae seen the little guy who was with Samuel at all. Given the nature o' the Order’s business, that’s nae surprising. They probably rotate boys like him in and out like the rotating earth does the sun and moon.

Owen Black storms out o’ the house. Something has him in a rage. He shoves the kid who brought his car around out o' the way as Owen steps into the vehicle. The tires squeal before he ever gets the door closed. This isnae an unusual occurrence. Lately, Owen seems to be verra outta sorts.

His wife died several months ago, and his stepdaughter went missing shortly after. The asshole disnae seem to give a fuck at all. Then all o’ a sudden like, his behavior grew erratic, and now the man is volatile where before he was the picture o' cold and calm.

Owen disnae seem to live in the house. Neither does Samuel Nicholson, but they both come and go regularly. As do multiple others, but those others, I dinnae ken. I’ve taken photos o’ them all, hoping I’ll be able to find out who they are at some point in time, but I don’t hold out much hope.

I’ve tried using facial recognition, but nothing has popped up for me. Simon was the tech guru in the family. He would’ve been able to find their names with little effort.

As daylight gives way to darkness, I spot a shadow on the other side o' the clearing where the manor sits. Whoever it is, they’re doing the same thing I am.

Waiting.

Watching.

I hold steady. My focus on the newcomer instead o' the house. He’s joined by several others as the glow o' the moon completely usurps the sun. I’m nae sure what is going on or who has joined me in my scrutiny.

Just when I think they are only going to watch, two o' them embrace and then one o' them turns to embrace what appears to be a woman. Who I dinnae ken, but she’s surrounded by the others and, judging by the size and look o’ them, it’s three men.

The first to show up along with the woman and two others, turn and leave from back the way they came. Confusion colors my vision and thoughts, everything skewing and shifting as all the questions try to puzzle themselves together.

What the fuck is going on?

While I’m still trying to puzzle out what is happening, a car rolls up to the house and Owen Black gets out. The valet moves the car away as Owen charges into the house. The sound o’ the door opening and slamming echoes throughout the clearing.

Moments later, three men, similar size and look o' the ones who had left the tree line not long ago with the girl, step out o’ another car. The driver speaks to the lad who parks the vehicles. The lad scurries away and the men enter the house.

Questions flit through my head, bouncing around like balls in a pinball machine.

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