It took me away across the channel to France, chasing down criminals, subverting their organisation. I haven’t had to play a man in years, it was exhilarating and I have to admit that I haven’t lost my touch. Nobody suspected me, not until the very moment I wanted my cover blown.
I’m sure Jane is already writing up the particulars on her blog, pandering the details to the masses in a way I never would. But I suppose that’s why she blogs about the cases and I don’t.
The cases interest me, but that interest is fleeting. It lasts as long as the riddle does, until the end of the pursuit, the last moments of adrenaline as I corner the culprit. When it’s all over, I find myself home again. It used to be alone, the only friend I had were my ownsoothers.Eventually those were taken away from me and I was faced with the insurmountable boredom that followed the inevitable end of my cases. Then I found Jane.
Home after a case isn’t the death sentence it used to be.