The midnight intruder
This is the first
instalment
of a mystery story. In each instalment there is one
puzzle
. All the information to
solve
the puzzle is in the story. Can you solve it?
P.S. an intruder is a person who comes into your house (or any place) without an invitation.
P.S. an intruder is a person who comes into your house (or any place) without an invitation.
Andy Collett woke up with a
jolt
.
The room seemed unnaturally silent, like somebody was there listening to him. He didn’t sit up, but instead lay there listening, trying not to breathe. The silence was screaming at him to get up and explore the apartment. He slowly pulled the duvet back, placed his feet on the carpeted floor, then crept to the open bedroom door and looked out. He could see the outlines of his furniture and TV in the moonlight. The clock above the sofa said quarter past two - it really was the middle of the night. He slipped silently across the living room to the kitchen - nothing - and then to the bathroom - also nothing. With a sigh of relief he turned the light on. Why had he felt so strongly that there was somebody here?
And then he saw it! On the living room table there was a briefcase that wasn’t his and hadn’t been there when he had gone to bed. He froze . His blood had gone as cold as ice and adrenaline had filled his throat. He’d already turned the light on, so if somebody else was here, they knew he was awake.
“Hello?” he called into the nothing. He waited for some reply, but none came. On top of the briefcase there was a small hand-written note and a battery. Andy moved to the table, picked up the note and read it.
You don’t need my name to play my game.
You just need a number.
I hold my hands up to my face for you to see whenever you please.
But you only look at me when you have something else to do.
The room seemed unnaturally silent, like somebody was there listening to him. He didn’t sit up, but instead lay there listening, trying not to breathe. The silence was screaming at him to get up and explore the apartment. He slowly pulled the duvet back, placed his feet on the carpeted floor, then crept to the open bedroom door and looked out. He could see the outlines of his furniture and TV in the moonlight. The clock above the sofa said quarter past two - it really was the middle of the night. He slipped silently across the living room to the kitchen - nothing - and then to the bathroom - also nothing. With a sigh of relief he turned the light on. Why had he felt so strongly that there was somebody here?
And then he saw it! On the living room table there was a briefcase that wasn’t his and hadn’t been there when he had gone to bed. He froze . His blood had gone as cold as ice and adrenaline had filled his throat. He’d already turned the light on, so if somebody else was here, they knew he was awake.
“Hello?” he called into the nothing. He waited for some reply, but none came. On top of the briefcase there was a small hand-written note and a battery. Andy moved to the table, picked up the note and read it.
You don’t need my name to play my game.
You just need a number.
I hold my hands up to my face for you to see whenever you please.
But you only look at me when you have something else to do.
What was this - some kind of
riddle
? The battery was the standard AA type. He put it to one side and
inspected
the briefcase. It wouldn’t open and the three-digit combination lock was set to [0,0,0]. Who left this here? Who had been in his home? Andy
set
the case back on the table and went to check outside. He lived in an apartment building and the corridor was empty. He checked the street below from his window - no one. Finally, he turned his attention back to the riddle. ‘You don’t need my name, just a number.’ So he should not be thinking about who did this; he should be thinking about the number which
presumably
opened the briefcase. ‘I hold my hands up to my face for you to see whenever you please, but you only look at me when you have something else to do.’ It sounded like the writer was a sad or shocked person, and somebody that Andy knew, but he usually ignored. Who could that be? But the answer is not a ‘who’, it’s a number. How could he get a number from this puzzle? He checked the time again: it was about quarter past two.
Can you
solve
the puzzle?
When you think you have the solution , click the button below to see the answer and read the end of this instalment.
When you think you have the solution , click the button below to see the answer and read the end of this instalment.
