Page 60 - double revenge 3.

Eye recognition was OK. Of course, that was normal and I entered my card into the slot for the lift
doors to open. Up to now, I could have got this far without alterations to my security level as
indeed I could the next step, which was to descend to lower three.

Now was crunch time! I had to offer my card to the door mechanism and if it rejected it as “ACCESS
VIOLATION”, the lift would automatically return to the ground floor with doors locked. I would then
have to explain to security, who would be waiting for me guns drawn, that I had gone to lower
three instead of upper three as I had had a tiring day.

I felt ashamed of my lack of trust in Albert when the doors smoothly opened and I was met by
security and ushered into the Purple Room.

Security took my ID, scanned it and handed it back.

‘Thank you Mister Bryant.’

I had never been down here before and the Purple Room was certainly true to its name. The walls,
ceiling, chairs, everything was purple. It’s a colour regarded as a colour of mourning in many
countries and by many Catholics and perhaps it had been chosen with this in mind to mourn the
loss of the written word. Communication in the building was now by computer and everything
communicated went via this room.

I sat at the keyboard and first clarified that Anne’s computer had been written out, it had.

I then brought up the printer programme. There was no possibility of tracing anything Anne had
sent to the printer I had instead to check the printers daily tasks. I punched in the date, Monday
th
16 March, the day Anne had been murdered, and I would have to work back from there. The
tasks for that day appeared and spooling through countless files that had been sent for printing was
mesmerising. I checked my watch, at this rate I would struggle to find what I was looking for before
I had to leave. On my third date I found it, an update on Project Black sent to Alfred Barker.

I started to read but it was difficult to come to terms with the fact that this was a report from Anne
who I could no longer visualise in our home, could no longer see as the person next to me in bed or
walking beside me in the country but could now only visualise as a body trapped in a burning car.

I was cooking a King Prawn Curry, Anne’s favourite when I saw the car headlights sweep across the
kitchen as she drove into the courtyard. I crossed to the window to look and saw small flames
coming from underneath the car. Something was clearly very wrong and I ran down the stairs and
into the courtyard where Anne had stopped while she waited for the garage door to open. The
flames beneath the car were getting larger and suddenly there was a huge explosion, which blew
me off my feet.

I raced to the car but already it was an inferno. Through the flames, I could see the outline of Anne
still sat in the driving seat, not moving.

‘Get out! Anne get out!’ I cried.

I tried to get near the car to open the door but the heat was so intense. Somehow, I determined to
ignore the heat and managed to get my hand on the door handle but someone was pulling me
away.
‘Get off me! Let go!’ I shouted.