His daughter was of a different bent. With the sangfroid of a cat burglar she deciphered locks with a bobby pin and left mysterious notes in longhand. These notes, found inside the sock drawer or a microwave, or perhaps in between the pages of some long forgotten tome, were engines of destruction or agents of unification. Following an intricate but extremely idiosyncratic formula employing relative distances of random objects in space and found meanings of that specific moment in Time, the notes she wrote out were almost always discovered by lovers or agents of authority to either compromise or remedy the situation. Relationships were destroyed and cases were solved. As always she emerged from the domicile, silent as a sigh, leaving not one molecule of dust disturbed. When her father died, her notes became a subject of aggravation for people with objects languishing in lost and found bins. As she was unaware of her father’s extracurricular activities, the phenomenon remained a strange coincidence in her mind.