The Sudoku Inheritance

Part I - Foreplay

The SuDoku Inheritance

A mystery adventure novel 

by Jeff Pratt

Absolutely no SuDoku knowledge 

is necessary to enjoy this novel!

All characters are fictional etc etc.  

Any resemblance to anyone that I know may well be intentional!

Text copyright © 2014 Jeff Pratt 

All Rights Reserved 

Published by Mallaktech 

Version 2014v20-4

The word "Sudoku" is the Japanese abbreviation of a longer phrase,  

"suuji wa dokushin ni kagiru", meaning "the digits must occur only once", 

which is the essence of the SuDoku puzzle. 

It is a trademark of puzzle publisher Nikoli Co. Ltd. in Japan.  

 Fact: there are 6,670,903,752,021,072,936,960 possible solutions to a Sudoku grid.

A Warning from Nathan 

The girls thought that soo-do-koo was a number thirty-nine on the Chinese take-away menu, to be enjoyed with sweet-and-sour sauce and special fried rice. Neither of them had attempted the number puzzle before but that didn't stop them tackling this particular infernal SuDoku. Whether driven by paternal love or simple greed, they would both soon be experiencing its sweet-and-sour aftertaste.

Me? I'm a bit of an expert if I say so myself. Anything that requires a half-decent brain and a shed-load of logic and I'm your man. Somehow that hasn't really helped me this time. 

In fact, it's damn near killed me.

One minute I was Jack-the-Lad: stacks of dosh, a girl a day to keep the doctor away, primed for some new Italian home-cooking - if you take my meaning; the world smelt fresh and promising; no worries, mate. Next minute I was Jack-the-had: sued for zillions of pounds, sniffing around the foul arse-end of Southwark SE1, hounded by the fuzz, and with enough problems to wear out even titanium worry beads.

My career has careered right off its tracks. My so-called colleagues have screwed me, good and proper, with size-twelve cross-head self-tappers. Unemployed. Unemployable. Nobody would allow me to empty their dustbins let alone fix their mission-critical software systems.

Then there's plod, trying to feel my size sixteen Hermes collar. Old Bill have fingered me for kidnap but they can't prove it. I've a cast-iron alibi that says I didn't do it. Trouble is, it's beginning to go rusty, 'cause I did. Seems very unfair, especially as they haven't yet found Mitzi, my one true love. Also forcefully kidnapped. I fear for her safety. Alone. Scared.

And then there's the bodies. They keep piling up. Stiffs everywhere. Three so far. Four if you include the rat. Only one was down to me but I sense another in the offing. And one more if you count my imminent suicide, which I'm now putting the finishing touches to.

How did life get so dark?  

One day at a time, that's how.  

Starting with that siren Thursday.