There was a knock on the door.
“It’s too early in the morning for visitors.”
The knocking continued, becoming increasingly impatient.
“Bloody Mormons”
Grant begrudgingly got out of bed and answered the door.
Nick K, Kyle and Britin stood outside of Grant’s Potts Point store front and abode. They demanded a clear explanation of his abacus workings. Grant informed the group that the store is closed on Saturdays and to come back on Monday, “And by the way, Britin, I need two abaci to calculate your numbers”, and he closed the door.
The trio went their separate ways. Nick K headed straight for Town Hall to cast the first vote of the day again, this time against Brianna. Catherine was next with a vote against Kyle.
A lot of discussion was had amongst the town. Alisha was at the centre of a lot of it and seemingly defending people she had previously been outwardly suspect of. She was pushed for reasoning. She took a deep breath, and climbed the steps of Town Hall and paused, her back still facing the people. As Alisha slowly raised one hand to her head, murmurs died to whispers. Alisha turned to face everyone and removed the wig from her head.
“I am police Commissioner Jim Mitchell. I have been working undercover to investigate a number of suspect citizens. I hereby clear Grant, Kyle and Melissa as innocent townsfolk. I hope this narrows the field in our collective search of criminals. We must end the infighting and unite to make the streets of Sydney safe again.”
An applause went up, and cries of exaltation were heard far and wide! “JIMMY BOOOIIIII!!!!!”
With this revelation, Michael was the name on everybody’s lips, and the votes poured in.
Michael was lynched in front of Jim Mitchell. Michael was the alias of James “Big Jim” Devine, husband of Tilly and killer of Lillian Armfield.
It was a massive win for Sydney! Tomorrow, the streets of our great city will be significantly safer with both Devine’s now pushing daisies.
That afternoon, Jimmy boi celebrated with several enthusiastic admirers at a small bar in Crown Lane, Darlinghurst. It was approaching 6pm, when bars, pubs and bottleo’s must close due to a state wide night booze ban. So the Commissioner thought nothing of it when the building door was shut and the sign turned around to officially close the bar for the day.
As Jim lifted his pint to empty the remains of his last beer, the coaster caught his eye for the first time.
Panic shot through his body. The Commissioner rose to his feet in a fuss, in doing so bumped his stool to the floor. As he turned to exit the building, his leg caught on a stool leg and he fell to the ground. His fellow admiring patrons moved as swiftly as he did. Two ran towards the door to block any exit, while three others piled on top of Jim. “We’ve got him!”, one shouted.
In answer, Kate Leigh appeared from a back room of the building smiling at the helpless Commissioner with cold blue eyes. It was the last face Jim Mitchell saw. He had unknowingly been lured into one of the Devine’s former sly grog bars, where he was murdered on a day that he had celebrated as a victory for the city he held so close to his heart.
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