Tell no one, trust no one. Not even the police.
That was it, the end of the letter. That was it, all my father left me. A small rusty key and a cryptic letter that i didn't understand. I would of much rather of had the house and the £20,000, but I'm not that lucky.
I really didn't know what to make of it all, why would he give everything to my brother and nothing to me. What did he mean trust no one, not even the police? If you can't trust the police who can you trust?
I couldn't work out what to make of it all. To say i was intrigued would of been an understatement. to say i was worried would of been an even bigger understatement. I was bricking it, what had my dad gotten himself into. What kind of trouble was he in? Did this have anything to do with why he was acting so strange? Or why he was murdered?
well there was only one way to find out, i had to go to the lock box. I didn't want to go alone, hell no. Not with the thoughts still fresh in my head that this might be the key to my fathers murder. Part of me didn't want to go at all. It took me eight days to decide what to do, who to take with me. All the time thinking to myself "Trust no one".