The Sudoku Inheritance

Part I - Foreplay

But Jasmine's clues were cryptic in the extreme. They weren't simply general knowledge or logic, they were... downright bizarre.  

And I was still stuck on number one:  

To start with how many gods were there truly 

A question mark had been pencilled in a few inches to the right of the question. Quite right too. A comma after with might not come amiss too. And shouldn't gods start with a capital? Perhaps not. Even with correct punctuation I was still stumped and I hadn't even considered Buddha and Allah yet? Where did they fit in the great scheme of past and present deity? What about the Chinese, they must have had gods that were aeons old? And the Mayans? The Aztecs? And Africa - where man started off - why haven't the Africans got a big bunch of gods of their own? 

So how many gods in total?  

Lots.  

Maybe the pencilled question mark alongside the first riddle simply meant haven't got a bloody clue, mate. 

Chapter 5.  

Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries is a stirring piece of music, evocative of great battles and pregnant with anticipation, so it was a fitting ringtone for my mobile. Ironic in the circumstances, I thought, that the Valkyries were beautiful young Norse women, mounted upon winged horses, armed with helmets and spears; minor deities serving the big chief god Odin.  

My head was beginning to ache, partly from Phil's earlier lecture about father and son relationships, and partly from the intractable riddles, and just possibly from too much vodka. The stirring call of the Valkyries was a welcome distraction. I only gave this mobile number to my friends and important contacts. A glance at the display showed me the caller was Jim from one of the big banks and one of my big customers. Jim only called when he had a problem. A big problem. 

"So what have you broken now?" I greeted. Jim and I went back a long way. 

"Good evening to you too, Nathan. Got a minute?" 

"If you're paying." 

Jim explained succinctly that the IT system that controlled the bank's credit cards was giving problems. "It's running like a three-legged dog, with two tied together, and getting slower as we speak." 

In real terms this meant that customers in shops, garages, restaurants, hotels and other retail outlets, would be queuing to pay with their cards and no doubt getting stroppy with the wait. 

"I've got the new Ops Director breathing down my neck." 

"I'm sure he thinks that'll help you concentrate." 

Jim went on to explain that they had just installed a new version of the database software that underpinned a major part of the credit card computer system. It was software that I had helped write in a previous life. Banks test everything to destruction, they have to, so it was likely that something in the new installation had either been done incorrectly, or more likely, the installation instructions were plain wrong. Unfortunately, software doesn't always do what it says on the tin. 

"Presumably that's version four-point-three, Jim? And you've compiled the queries and optimised the buffers...?" I was referring to detailed parts of the software process, which to a layman would be nonsense, but Jim was no layman. 

"Of course I have." 

Ouch! Jim wasn't usually that tetchy. Guess the new Ops Director must have dragon's breath. 

I walked hurriedly into my study, stabbed the enter-key on the computer keyboard and instantly the huge wall-hung monitor obediently leapt into life with a stunningly crisp picture of the Bosses piste in Meribel, a spiteful black run with arse-high moguls, that I still hadn't mastered.