TWENTY-FIVE
It was two o’clock, and clothing regained, just an afterglow and a disorderly pile of paperwork as evidence of their exertions. They had eaten their sandwiches and Jack had his phone on the deceptively tidy desk, the latest message from Moriarty displayed.
No longer legless, Jane
But where is the top half?
On a fizzer?
Perhaps;
You have until 8 pm
Mor.
He was thinking on the riddle whilst squeezing his legs together, enjoying the sensation, ‘Think like Len,’ Mandy suggested.
‘Well, in the little time we had, I would bet this is not a direct clue, so I am guessing we are not talking about a bomb, and the deadline is to get us excited,’ he looked at her, and raised his eyebrow.
‘I know, Jack, I can’t think of anything else. I’m like a teenager, my body is still tingling
