Day 24: 47,232 words and more big reveals

“What if we have been thinking about the fires all wrong,” Scottie started. 

Everyone in the room fell silent once more.

“We keep thinking that the fires were all set for a specific reason,” she continued. “Like, the hairdresser owed money to someone. Or Shmuel Farhi is an dick. Or the café owner recently won a heated ‘best café in London’ competition and the losing competitors were angry. Or an employee at the souvenir shop was having an affair. Or a supplier for the bakery was disgruntled because there was a late payment.

“While these things may be true, I’ve been starting to think that the fires are a part of something even bigger than the dramas of the Wortley Village Small Business Association. I do think that those businesses and buildings were chosen for a reason—because there was always something that an investigator, if they were looking into it, would think was the reason that the building burned down. And then as more and more fires were happening, any investigator would get bogged down with all of the details and would never see the forest for the trees. 

“I think they’re a distraction from something else—something that we haven’t figured out yet. Oh, the hair salon is on fire, oh, the empty building is on fire, oh, there are more fires at cafes and bakeries and souvenir shops. We run around like assholes trying to figure out all of these little fires, wasting our energy. We go around and around and around, trying to figure out why the mini militia is following us around and why the police seem to think that there have been two fires instead of four. They can do this. All. Day. Meanwhile, we aren’t paying attention to something else. Something else that I can’t out my finger on, but I think I know how we can figure it out.”

Scottie, after having said what she needed to say, stepped aside. To everyone’s surprise, Jackie stood up and grabbed the dry erase marker. 

“I think that I might have some ideas,” he rumbled. 

“Now that’s a fucking leader,” Jake thought to himself approvingly. 

“I’ve had my suspicions about the fires as soon as they started,” Jackie began. “I’ve been investigating the Murtaugh family for some time now.”

“As part of the RCMP?” Scottie asked. 

Jackie scoffed. “I was hired by the RCMP to aid in their structural investigation as part of the international anti-corruption team, which is what I have been doing. But I work alone.” 

The entire room was squinting and nodding at the same time. 

“I’ve noticed a trend as News Media Corp takes over other companies,” Jackie continued. “It seems like whenever there is interest in acquiring another company, someone has recently been installed as CEO who does a horrible job. They run things into the ground, and depreciate the value of the company so that News Media Corp can swoop in and buy it at a discount rate.”

“No way,” Scottie gasped. “So that’s what happened with the Toronto Star. Why the CEO has been forcing us to run at lunchtime no matter how much news is happening. He wanted to tank us so that News Media Corp could easily come in and take over. And remake the media landscape considerably in the process.”

“It’s definitely not the first time they’ve tried to do this, but it’s going to be the last time. I almost have what I need to shut them down,” Jackie said triumphantly. “The family has gotten way too sloppy. The kids especially. Using your influence to get onto the Australian men’s Olympic swim team is messy. The ways that Chadwick Moneysworth has been depleting morale at the Toronto Star is incredibly messy. Using your influence to make attractive hockey players look like they have cheese power on their faces is even messier, both literally and figuratively. Convincing idiots like the Pettipiece cousins in London to cover up your crimes was messier than everything. They think that they can do whatever they want, but they can’t.”

“Why the fires? I feel like I have been asking this over and over again. What would that have to do with trying to buy the Toronto Star?” Scottie asked. 

“They’re coming after me,” Jackie said simply. “I’ve worked to keep a low profile, to stay off the grid. But I think that their people—and Joe Murtaugh—figured out that I was close to exposing the entire family. So they wanted me gone, or at least too intimidated to continue my investigation. They’ve just tried to do it less directly this time.”

“How would serial arson in businesses that are not your business convince you to stop investigating the Murtaugh family?” Jake asked. 

“This is their attempt at a cover-up. To light too many fires that the motive would be unclear because there are a million different potential motives,” Jackie explained. “Then, when they finally target my bar, there will be too much confusion to know that I was the real target all along.”

“Do you have enough to put them away?” Scottie asked. “I certainly don’t have enough to expose them in the Toronto Star. And at this point I’m worried about whether I would even have the freedom to do that, with Chadwick Moneysworth driving us into the ground.”

“I don’t have enough yet,” Jackie said. “But I will after they try to burn down Jackie’s Place tomorrow night.”