Episode four. By a strange quirk My watch had stopped at twenty to eight, Strange because at that precise time I was standing in the doorway Of the downtown bookstore Named Twenty 2 Eight. It was like being in Thurso in drag. What a night. Thursday usually rained, Tonight was no different. I'd forgotten my coat collar And so the edge of my shirt Was soaked to my skin. I found this to be of benefit, As the cooling effect Eased my troubled mind The case was still very much open. This is not good, When you are standing In a doorway, Tomorrow's laundry All over the ground. I'd been away just three nights. Still on the plus side, this dampness Would make things Easier to press. The case was still a mystery. Very much wide open, And very open to question, Mostly from the Chief. It would be another four hours Four long hours. Before Twenty 2 Eight Would open at nine. Why I pondered Is it long hours? If ever short hours were available I'm certain they'd be a hit. Unless you are a resident of death row. I had left the office alone As sharing my idea with Anyone, including Little Luck May have put my plan in jeopardy. As Jeopardy was out of state, I would have had no time To go and collect it. So I preferred to keep the plan secret, Close to my chest. This strategy was flawed. The Thursday rain Had even penetrated through To my plan. To be continued . ? ? (C) 2018 CHRISTOPHER THOMPSON.