The Sudoku Inheritance

Part I - Foreplay

Where there's a will there's a way

Alongside some of the lines were pencilled terse comments, presumably indicating possible answers to the riddles - for what else could they be? - but nothing that made any sense to me. At the foot of the page there was a date - several weeks ago - and the signature Daddy, which struck me as rather quaint. Shouldn't it be Dad or Father for someone of Jasmine's age? But what would I know? And as if to reinforce my filial inadequacies, Phil Collins started wailing from the turntable: 

You walked out 

You left us behind 

And you're no son 

No son of mine. 

I snatched up the remote and angrily stabbed the skip-track button several times before realising that vinyl doesn't respond to whimsical selection so I had to endure the lecture. Yeah, thanks, Phil, I know I'm no son - it'd been drummed into me many times over. Perhaps I should be playing "I am a rock" by Simon and Garfunkel: 

I am a rock 

I am an island 

And a rock feels no pain 

And an island never cries. 

And that portrayed fairly accurately how I had cocooned my feelings in order to survive my teenage years. 

Now, as I had proved at the recent games fair, I'm a pretty cool dude when it comes to puzzles. 

But this one? 

I had no idea where to start. 

Chapter 4.  

So how many gods were there in the old days? 

That's the question.  

That's her question.  

In fact, it's only the first of a stack of equally unfathomable, frustrating, baffling, head-scratching, crotch-itching, riddles of hers. 

Goddess Jasmine. She was the biggest riddle. 

"You're so smug, Jeremy, do you know how many gods there were?" 

He seemed oblivious to me. 

"Well, do you?" I shouted. 

No, I thought not. 

Paxman continued to ignore my question and progressively barbecued the undergraduates who had foolishly believed they could outwit him on University Challenge. I skipped to another programme on the BBC iPlayer hoping for something to occupy my mind on this lousy rainy Thursday. I thought it would take my mind of her riddles but after fifteen minutes of fruitless channel surfing I picked up Jasmine's challenge again and re-cued the vinyl. Phil Collins started all over again but this time a few decibels louder. As I said, I'm not a quitter. 

As I recall, in the old days the pagans had a god for anything and everything: the sun, the moon, the sea, the underworld, the earth; war, love, beauty, youth, fertility. Even one for the pre-historic cow. And one for every day of the week and probably two for lousy Thursdays. 

They definitely had quite a few. 

But what exactly did Jasmine's question mean?  

To start with how many gods were there truly 

And who cares how many gods there were in the beginning, anyway? 

The Greeks had a few gods, didn't they?