Hax frowned at the stacks of reports laid neatly across his desk and took another sip of his coffee. He'd spent the better part of his morning going back over the copies of case files Mary had given him during their first few meetings, mapping out each symbol and string of numbers from each crime scene. But he'd noticed very little that might provide any answers, and indeed, seemed to be acquiring more questions.
In each case, an MP had first received an envelope at their office in Westminster. Each envelope contained a cryptic symbol drawn in thick brown ink on a heavy parchment; at the bottom of the sheet was drawn a series of numbers. Neither the symbol nor the number string on any of the six notes thus delivered matched any of the others. These messages were always delivered on a Friday; Hax had been given the dates, but they had no meaning to him. From there, the MPs had each gone to their country estates to find someone -or ones- had gotten past security and vandalised one of the rooms on the ground floor, excepting the MP representing Salisbury, who instead found his prized rose garden decimated.