The Investigator's Journal - posted on April 23, 2016 by

The Firehills Investigator – Episode 4

My visit to Maidstone had left me tired and drained. The drive back to London is long so I pulled over in a nearby wood and slept in the back of the car. I found it difficult to get to sleep and my mind would not settle. Nothing about this case made any sense and I found it difficult to sleep. After a while my mind gave up and I drifted off.

I awoke in the morning feeling cramped and my back was killing me. I climbed into the front seat of the car and drove to where the Firehills shot the first music video. The woman I spoke to in Maidstone gave me the address in a hurry and I got the feeling she wished she hadn’t. The garage is an important lead and I needed to follow it up.

I pulled into the yard of the garage and began to look around. The place looked run down but clearly still in business. Eventually I found my way into the main workshop to discover a mechanic working there. He didn’t seem pleased to see me but I showed the photo of the band anyway.

“I am looking for the members of this band. Have you seen them recently? They shot a music video here a few months ago.”

The man continues what he is doing but after a short pause speaks up.

“You and everyone else,” is his short but to the point reply.

“I am not to sure what you meant by that. Has anyone else been here looking for this group?”

The man continues with his work.

“There was a fat man here a couple of months ago looking for that lot. He said he was their manager or something like that and that it was important that he found them.”

“And what did you tell him?” I asked impatiently.

“I told him that I allowed them to use the workshop and they left after a few hours. I never saw them again.”

This line of inquiry was quickly going nowhere and I began to grow frustrated.

“What did this man look like?” I asked.

“He was a big balding chap. He left me his card and told me to call him if they ever came back.”

The mechanic reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. On it read: ‘Lemech Cain head of Leviathan records.’ I was not expecting this.

“Do you mind if I keep this,” I asked the mechanic.

“Sure, go ahead. No good to me.”

I thanked the mechanic and headed back to my car. My mind started to fill with more questions. I began to wonder if the people who had hired me were from this record company.  Clearly they wanted to find the band Firehills but I found it odd the head of the Record Label would come out to a place like this to find them. Surely they would send a junior member of staff for such a job. I thought on this a little longer and realised that is wasn’t the record company that had hired me but Lemech Cain.  That is why he had come here personally. This all seemed strange to me.  Firehills must be important to this man.  The question is why are they important?