I walked into the room and the first thought that hit me was the strange choice of wallpaper. Then I looked closer. It was all Post-It notes. The room was the size of of a large gym, and every square inche of it was covered in tiny, yellow pieces of paper.

“It looks like this guy had an organizational problem.” I looked back at the familiar voice and saw my partner Sam, or as most people call him, Samurai.

Walking over to one of the notes and looked at it. “It seems he was as eccentric about his organization as he was about telling us about this place.” I showed him the note, which had two characters on it, a letter and a number.

“What do you expect from a guy who calls the police, tells them the addresses of where he is at, and where his ‘greatest achievement’ can be found, and then blows his brains out bfore hanging up the phone? What do you think this is, anyway?”

“I think this is his suicide note.”

“Well,” he said, with a huge grin on his face, “I’ll take this side, you take that side.”