Night Melody

The Whistler. I'm the Whistler. And I know many things, for I walk by night. I know many strange tales, hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the shadows.

Yes, I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak. Tonight transcribed, it's the Whistler Strange Story Night Melody. Look as he dialed Helen's number from the phone in the drugstore, a block away from the apartment.

He realized he shouldn't be calling her now of all times. She knew we was coming back tonight, knew every step of the plan. But even though it was dangerous, he had to steal that terrible, unsure feeling in the pit of his stomach.

And just as he expected, Helen was angry. But I told you not to call me, Marshall. I had to, Helen. I had to make sure. Pretices coming home at the same time? Yes, regular as corkwork.

Now, don't be silly, darling. You can trust me. Everything is just waiting for you to walk in. Alright Helen. I'll be talking to Melody in 15 minutes. Oh Marshal Darling, same as ever. Always doing the unexpected.

Surprise? After all, have you bribed in on me this way? One in the morning while I'm supposing you're in Phoenix. I think I know why you've come. Oh? You're going to say goodbye, aren't you?

You're a very direct Melody. Why not? I haven't put much stock in these business trips of yours, you know. Who is she, darling? Anyone I know? I think that's beside the point, Mayor. Of course.

Only feminine curiosity. But whoever your new playmate is, Marshal. I hope she has money. Because you certainly won't get any of mine. We're just talking to my sister this year. Hello? I don't have any other sister's dear.